Not sure where to start today, you know, not much has been happening, I don't have much to talk ab... oh wait... wait, yes, something is coming through... ah yes... HE'S TOILET TRAINED!!!!
God, it felt good to get that out.
Christmas shopping... cold, damp, dreary, crowds of people, long queues... the sort of experience that normally leaves me wearing down my teeth and swearing never to do it again. This year, however, I found myself floating around a packed, grey superstore, blissfully unaware of my surroundings. The reason? Discounts on cases of vodka? No! No, it was a little thing that set me off. A little thing stuck into the wire seat on the trolley. A little thing in welly boots looking up at me and saying 'toilet?!'. I extricated him and took him to the loo reluctantly, figuring that either it was a simple ploy to get out of the trolley or that he would have let go by the time we got there but no - total success! I tell you, when we came out of that loo, it was like Miracle on Aisle 34. I mean, I could actually SEE Santa crossing me off his list with a big 'Ho Ho Ho' as he scampered across the drop-tile ceiling scattering potty cheer to one and all.
We've now had two days of no nappies and, despite the fact that we purchased a potty for him when he was 18 months old and have been gently persuading him that this was the way forward ever since, it actually feels as though it happened by magic.
I am of course drawing a discreet veil over the fact that we can only count on a certain amount of success outside of the house, having not quite mastered our fear of actually sitting on a big-people's loo however when it comes to the number ones, we have even mastered our aim.
I tell you, Christmas is all down hill from here...
Ho ho ho!