It's been four whole days since I resigned and it is now the night before I go back to work for the first time since I resigned. Before the rumour mill could begin to set itself in motion, I made sure that those colleagues whose friendship and support has been invaluable to me over the past 4 and a half years knew of my intentions in that very personal form of a text message.
My plans.
Well, I am busy planning my leaving drinks, James' 1st birthday and a camping trip for next weekend. For the first time in my life I have absolutely no idea what I am going to do after these very important fixtures which reside proudly on my Gruffalo Family Planner (which was free and has actually changed my life). It's bloody scary I can tell you!
Not only do I have to consider the financial implications of this decision, I also have to consider that other very important facet of my life: my sanity. However, I refuse to get completely caught up in these first world worries. As I said to my Headteacher, the worst thing a person can go through is seeing your child fighting for their life and as Rob and I have already been through that, I figure that everything else will work itself out.
Having said that, I can't completely say that the decision to resign hasn't bothered me or weighed heavily on my mind. I think you can probably tell, blog, that the fact that I am still wittering on about it suggests that I am far from being nonchalant about the whole thing.
This anxiety manifested itself in my actions when, on Thursday morning, I decided to take the kids to Music and Rhyme (a fabulous group that my friend runs) to take my mind off things only to find as I was reversing that I had put the children in the wrong car seats. Bethan was shouting, "mummy, I hurt" whilst James looked like he was the cat that got the cream as he embraced the gift of space that he had been granted by my mistake.
I started to laugh like a hysterical shrew which further unsettled Bethan who kept repeating, "What's mummy doing?" to which I replied, "I'm loosing the plot". As I was swapping the children and correcting the natural order of things in the back of the car, Beth kept saying, "Are you loosing the plot, mummy?"
It would have been more reassuring for my three year old child if I said no and she actually believed me which was hard considering I did the exact same thing on Saturday morning on the way home from her ballet lesson.
Indeed, Beth, when you read this entry in twenty years time, mummy was definitely loosing the plot but as you well know, that is a pre-requisite for survival at chez Hillier.
(As an aside, Cath Kidston replied to my tweet and favourited my comments on Twitter. That was the second best 30 seconds of the week. The first was Bethan doing a big poo in her potty this evening :-)
Showing posts with label Potty Training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Potty Training. Show all posts
Wednesday 17th April 2013
Is it normal to still feel 'liverish' as m'mam would say, two days after going out? I honestly can't remember. Saturday night's 'Date Night' was the first that Rob and I had been on since January...2012.
We did go out another time last year but to be fair that was at Droylsden Catholic Club where we played bingo with a dobber, watched the in-house entertainment whilst getting 'smashed' (their words, not mine) with my parents' cronies. A good time was had by all but it didn't really set the romantic ambience that I had been looking for.
That's why Rob and I dressed up, put on some tunes whilst getting ready (I put my foot down at Neil Diamond though), and went to an elegant bar on the quayside...
Yes...(wistfully)...Saturday night...
Aargh!!...(pouring the Alka Seltzer Plus into a glass)...Sunday morning...
Note to self: next time you arrange a babysitter for your annual romantic night out with your other half, also book them for at least 4 hours the day after. Cleaning up the aftermath of potty training is difficult when sober but positively nightmarish when you've got your sunglasses on, in the house, and can see two potties and spillages in front of you.
Lesson well and truly learned!
We did go out another time last year but to be fair that was at Droylsden Catholic Club where we played bingo with a dobber, watched the in-house entertainment whilst getting 'smashed' (their words, not mine) with my parents' cronies. A good time was had by all but it didn't really set the romantic ambience that I had been looking for.
That's why Rob and I dressed up, put on some tunes whilst getting ready (I put my foot down at Neil Diamond though), and went to an elegant bar on the quayside...
Yes...(wistfully)...Saturday night...
Aargh!!...(pouring the Alka Seltzer Plus into a glass)...Sunday morning...
Note to self: next time you arrange a babysitter for your annual romantic night out with your other half, also book them for at least 4 hours the day after. Cleaning up the aftermath of potty training is difficult when sober but positively nightmarish when you've got your sunglasses on, in the house, and can see two potties and spillages in front of you.
Lesson well and truly learned!
Saturday 13th April 2013
Battered, bruised, exhausted and that's just my ego. It's been exactly one week since I last blogged but it feels like a lifetime has passed.
This week has been a blur, a haze...It's been one of those weeks where I've been so tired that I put the butter in the microwave because I thought it was the fridge (that was messy); it's been one of those weeks where I've thought I need to take some annual leave from this job and thought crap! I can't; it's been one of those weeks that I've thought, I probably need to consider resigning and let someone better have a go only to realise, once more that, crap! I can't.
Baby-led weaning has turned into a game of Subbuteo where, for the sake of peace, I have become the goal keeper. Potty Training: Part 2 The Return of the Singing Potty has been even more stressful than last time because Bethan's bowels are constantly on my mind. However, the most tiring and guilt-ridden thing that has been plaguing me day and night for the last 7 days is this: I can't wait to go back to work for a break.
Only three weeks ago such a thought would have horrified me; I was kind of getting into that whole earth-mother vibe and 'livin of the fatta of the land' ;-). Now I'm thinking, who am I kidding? I'm far too neurotic to be an earth mother! I'm just going to admit it: 24/7 with my two beautiful children for 14 days, 18 hours and 36 minutes has been very difficult.
This pill is even more difficult to swallow because I know how bloody lucky I am to have them. When Bethan was a couple of days old fighting for her life in an incubator my mum said to me, "She's strong; you're going to be nose to nose with her". I was hysterical saying that even thinking such a thing was too much because she could die at any moment.
As ever, m'mam was right. Bethan is strong; not just physically but also strong of mind.
As I was on my knees on one of our daily sojourns to the naughty step this week, I looked up into Beth's water-filled blue eyes and her mottled face from the amount of frustrated crying and had a very vivid flashback of sitting beside that incubator and having that conversation with my mum. It was at that moment after looking at Beth and then James did I realise that I'd hit a wall and needed some 'out time'. Following this epiphany I've had many sleepless, guilt-infested nights culminated in the following assertion: I can't justify why I need to work; it just feels like the right thing to do.
Mind you, once I'd come to terms with this 'feeling' (for now at least), chez Hillier has been back to its completely mad and frantic self today.
Desperate not to miss our first swimming lesson after the holidays, I started getting us all ready quite early this morning. It came as no surprise that we were still stuck in traffic 5 minutes before the lesson was supposed to start (Note to self: Put a brown paper bag in the glove compartment. This will help with 'why are we on the drag again?' hyperventilating). Once parked, we went rushing into the private building where the pool is, started to frantically get ready until,
"Liz, why are we the only ones here?"
I turned to Rob and went,
"Oh crap!"
Oh yes; I'd got the wrong pool on the wrong week. Many apologies to the residents of Cardinal Lofts in Ipswich. We saw the security camera whilst swimming alone in your pool but what is an Alpha Mum to do when you're dressed for the party and have nowhere to go?
This week has been a blur, a haze...It's been one of those weeks where I've been so tired that I put the butter in the microwave because I thought it was the fridge (that was messy); it's been one of those weeks where I've thought I need to take some annual leave from this job and thought crap! I can't; it's been one of those weeks that I've thought, I probably need to consider resigning and let someone better have a go only to realise, once more that, crap! I can't.
Baby-led weaning has turned into a game of Subbuteo where, for the sake of peace, I have become the goal keeper. Potty Training: Part 2 The Return of the Singing Potty has been even more stressful than last time because Bethan's bowels are constantly on my mind. However, the most tiring and guilt-ridden thing that has been plaguing me day and night for the last 7 days is this: I can't wait to go back to work for a break.
Only three weeks ago such a thought would have horrified me; I was kind of getting into that whole earth-mother vibe and 'livin of the fatta of the land' ;-). Now I'm thinking, who am I kidding? I'm far too neurotic to be an earth mother! I'm just going to admit it: 24/7 with my two beautiful children for 14 days, 18 hours and 36 minutes has been very difficult.
This pill is even more difficult to swallow because I know how bloody lucky I am to have them. When Bethan was a couple of days old fighting for her life in an incubator my mum said to me, "She's strong; you're going to be nose to nose with her". I was hysterical saying that even thinking such a thing was too much because she could die at any moment.
As ever, m'mam was right. Bethan is strong; not just physically but also strong of mind.
As I was on my knees on one of our daily sojourns to the naughty step this week, I looked up into Beth's water-filled blue eyes and her mottled face from the amount of frustrated crying and had a very vivid flashback of sitting beside that incubator and having that conversation with my mum. It was at that moment after looking at Beth and then James did I realise that I'd hit a wall and needed some 'out time'. Following this epiphany I've had many sleepless, guilt-infested nights culminated in the following assertion: I can't justify why I need to work; it just feels like the right thing to do.
Mind you, once I'd come to terms with this 'feeling' (for now at least), chez Hillier has been back to its completely mad and frantic self today.
Desperate not to miss our first swimming lesson after the holidays, I started getting us all ready quite early this morning. It came as no surprise that we were still stuck in traffic 5 minutes before the lesson was supposed to start (Note to self: Put a brown paper bag in the glove compartment. This will help with 'why are we on the drag again?' hyperventilating). Once parked, we went rushing into the private building where the pool is, started to frantically get ready until,
"Liz, why are we the only ones here?"
I turned to Rob and went,
"Oh crap!"
Oh yes; I'd got the wrong pool on the wrong week. Many apologies to the residents of Cardinal Lofts in Ipswich. We saw the security camera whilst swimming alone in your pool but what is an Alpha Mum to do when you're dressed for the party and have nowhere to go?
Monday 1st April 2013
So happy! Not only is Bethan now fully potty trained, she can also wipe the seat down of her Fisher Price 'toilet' with the Dettol wipes and put some toilet duck under its rim :-)
Only joking - April Fools!!! There's 6 minutes left until midday and I couldn't resist. Besides I'm bored. Stuck in the car on the M6 Southbound on the chevrons that are supposed to keep 2 cars apart (yes, like that's going to happen) and thought I would have a go at writing my blog.
Had a top Easter weekend with family and friends. Highlights include: a trip on Tommy the tram; shopping in the city; Bethan's first wide-eyed visit to the Disney Store; eating tapas and drinking good wine; James getting more confident in his intrepid crawling adventures; laughing and spending time with the Kirwins and the Sheldons; celebrating Easter services in the church I grew up in.
Lowlights include: 1. A near death experience; this happened when my mum convinced us all that a road which we were crossing to get to Deansgate was 'No Entry'. That was until a taxi came hurtling around the corner and nearly took us all out. Thank God Rob is nippy with the pram and buggy board. 2. James the Ripper's Pooey Bum: James' perchance for ripping up the weekend supplements and envelopes and then eating them meant that the two Easter Sunday poos were challenging to say the least. Sat in the snug in the Club changing his bum was a rite of passage for our son as all Kirwin descendants have been privy to that experience (Rob said it was more like a rite of a back passage). Anyway, the various bits of coloured paper that we found in the nappy told their own story. Rob said that all James needed to do was swallow some sticky back plastic and it would have come out gift wrapped. 3. Saying TTFN to our loved ones.
Had to laugh before we left my mum's this morning though. As my dad saw us packing our car with way more stuff than we actually needed he said, "Good Lord! No wonder you got a bigger car!".
This made me think about a beautiful Indian Summer during October half-term 1984 when my parents, three older siblings, myself and a week's worth of food climbed into our white Austin Allegro (equipped with a roof rack) and travelled from Manchester for a holiday on the Norfolk Broads. One of my earliest memories is when we all had to get out of the car so my dad could drive over the bridge at Wroxham because the car couldn't take the weight. No one batted an eye-lid as it seemed like the most normal thing to do.
Like I said, I couldn't help but look in our car this morning and giggle when I saw all of the crap stuffed into the back. If I took out Bethan's portable DVD player and asked her to play with a pack of cards she would look at me as if I was daft. On the other hand, James would probably be in his element because he could rip them up and eat them.
Only joking - April Fools!!! There's 6 minutes left until midday and I couldn't resist. Besides I'm bored. Stuck in the car on the M6 Southbound on the chevrons that are supposed to keep 2 cars apart (yes, like that's going to happen) and thought I would have a go at writing my blog.
Had a top Easter weekend with family and friends. Highlights include: a trip on Tommy the tram; shopping in the city; Bethan's first wide-eyed visit to the Disney Store; eating tapas and drinking good wine; James getting more confident in his intrepid crawling adventures; laughing and spending time with the Kirwins and the Sheldons; celebrating Easter services in the church I grew up in.
Lowlights include: 1. A near death experience; this happened when my mum convinced us all that a road which we were crossing to get to Deansgate was 'No Entry'. That was until a taxi came hurtling around the corner and nearly took us all out. Thank God Rob is nippy with the pram and buggy board. 2. James the Ripper's Pooey Bum: James' perchance for ripping up the weekend supplements and envelopes and then eating them meant that the two Easter Sunday poos were challenging to say the least. Sat in the snug in the Club changing his bum was a rite of passage for our son as all Kirwin descendants have been privy to that experience (Rob said it was more like a rite of a back passage). Anyway, the various bits of coloured paper that we found in the nappy told their own story. Rob said that all James needed to do was swallow some sticky back plastic and it would have come out gift wrapped. 3. Saying TTFN to our loved ones.
Had to laugh before we left my mum's this morning though. As my dad saw us packing our car with way more stuff than we actually needed he said, "Good Lord! No wonder you got a bigger car!".
This made me think about a beautiful Indian Summer during October half-term 1984 when my parents, three older siblings, myself and a week's worth of food climbed into our white Austin Allegro (equipped with a roof rack) and travelled from Manchester for a holiday on the Norfolk Broads. One of my earliest memories is when we all had to get out of the car so my dad could drive over the bridge at Wroxham because the car couldn't take the weight. No one batted an eye-lid as it seemed like the most normal thing to do.
Like I said, I couldn't help but look in our car this morning and giggle when I saw all of the crap stuffed into the back. If I took out Bethan's portable DVD player and asked her to play with a pack of cards she would look at me as if I was daft. On the other hand, James would probably be in his element because he could rip them up and eat them.
Wednesday 20th March 2013
It's back and this time it's here to stay...
No. I'm not talking about the snow and the crap weather (By the way mam, didn't you once say that March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb? If that's the case, why did it come in like a very cheesed off rhino who couldn't find a free spot in the swamp to bathe and will probably go out like an incredible angry baboon at the zoo because everyone is taking the mick out of its red arse?).
No, no - I'm talking about the lurgy: Voice gone; chest like Deidre Barlow's is back and the humidifier is going full blast in the night. On the plus side, it seems to only have infected me. Fortunately, the bairns and hubby are at present, lurgy free (fingers crossed).
I don't think it's a coincidence that I'm back on the Sudafed, paras and Hot Toddies at the same time that I have gone back to work. My hands are perfectly shriveled from the amount of antibacterial gel I keep applying before I open doors, touch books, take back pens that I have given out to the kids etc, etc...I mean, the teenagers I work with are lovely, lovely people but let's face it, they are teenagers who, when institutionalised in a school environment, spread the lurgy quicker than Twitter spreads litigation.
Being tired and feeling so crappy has made me feel even more guilty about leaving Beth and James on a Monday and Tuesday; I mean, by last night, I literally walked through the door and keeled over; I had absolutely no energy. Bethan came running up to me saying, "Mummy! Mummy!" and my heart melted. She followed the statement through with, "Mummy's got the Cinderella phone!" (the iPad) and the nanny put even more salt into an already large, open wound by saying, "Oh, she has been so funny all day saying that 'Mummy will bring the Cinderella phone home!". In my delirious state I wailed to Rob whilst in the kitchen (out of the children's sight of course), "My child has missed an Apple product more than she has missed me!".
Again on the plus side, looking at the iPad whilst sitting on the potty has meant that Bethan is weeing like a trooper and setting off the music which tells us she has done a number one. She happily sits there either reading the Cinderella story or watching 'Falling Overs' on the ITV player app. Talk about giving a new meaning to reading on the toilet.
I find it ironic that it is a product from the deceased Steve Jobs that helped Bethan gain the confidence to relax whilst on the loo and not the 101+ other tips that we have been given on our intrepid potty training journey. There is even a Potty Training app but she isn't at all interested as she is so fed up of being shown what to do that we now just leave her to it. We're still not there yet but it's miles better than it was because we are a lot more relaxed about it.
Anyway, I'm offsky to bed now and hoping to watch the programme "16 and Counting" on 4OD. A good friend of mine recommended it to me and I am finally getting round to watching it. Just hope I can keep my eyes open long enough to watch it all.
No. I'm not talking about the snow and the crap weather (By the way mam, didn't you once say that March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb? If that's the case, why did it come in like a very cheesed off rhino who couldn't find a free spot in the swamp to bathe and will probably go out like an incredible angry baboon at the zoo because everyone is taking the mick out of its red arse?).
No, no - I'm talking about the lurgy: Voice gone; chest like Deidre Barlow's is back and the humidifier is going full blast in the night. On the plus side, it seems to only have infected me. Fortunately, the bairns and hubby are at present, lurgy free (fingers crossed).
I don't think it's a coincidence that I'm back on the Sudafed, paras and Hot Toddies at the same time that I have gone back to work. My hands are perfectly shriveled from the amount of antibacterial gel I keep applying before I open doors, touch books, take back pens that I have given out to the kids etc, etc...I mean, the teenagers I work with are lovely, lovely people but let's face it, they are teenagers who, when institutionalised in a school environment, spread the lurgy quicker than Twitter spreads litigation.
Being tired and feeling so crappy has made me feel even more guilty about leaving Beth and James on a Monday and Tuesday; I mean, by last night, I literally walked through the door and keeled over; I had absolutely no energy. Bethan came running up to me saying, "Mummy! Mummy!" and my heart melted. She followed the statement through with, "Mummy's got the Cinderella phone!" (the iPad) and the nanny put even more salt into an already large, open wound by saying, "Oh, she has been so funny all day saying that 'Mummy will bring the Cinderella phone home!". In my delirious state I wailed to Rob whilst in the kitchen (out of the children's sight of course), "My child has missed an Apple product more than she has missed me!".
Again on the plus side, looking at the iPad whilst sitting on the potty has meant that Bethan is weeing like a trooper and setting off the music which tells us she has done a number one. She happily sits there either reading the Cinderella story or watching 'Falling Overs' on the ITV player app. Talk about giving a new meaning to reading on the toilet.
I find it ironic that it is a product from the deceased Steve Jobs that helped Bethan gain the confidence to relax whilst on the loo and not the 101+ other tips that we have been given on our intrepid potty training journey. There is even a Potty Training app but she isn't at all interested as she is so fed up of being shown what to do that we now just leave her to it. We're still not there yet but it's miles better than it was because we are a lot more relaxed about it.
Anyway, I'm offsky to bed now and hoping to watch the programme "16 and Counting" on 4OD. A good friend of mine recommended it to me and I am finally getting round to watching it. Just hope I can keep my eyes open long enough to watch it all.
 |
| Here is the Peppa Pig plaster that I had to use tonight after chopping through my thumb with a pair of scissors. I actually prefer them to the fabric ones that we have. Firstly, they are bright and secondly, they keep water out unlike the fabric ones; you don't just end up with a sore thumb but a sodden one too! |
Wednesday 27th February 2013
Bethan did her first wee in her potty! Yay! :-)
Unfortunately it happened whilst I was at work, Boo! :-(
When I got Rob's text I started shouting with happiness in the English Office; I'm sure my colleagues were confused and thought I was getting overly excited about meeting my new Year 8 class. When I explained why I was so euphoric I got the customary "Aww!"
Bethan's first wee on the potty isn't just a rite of passage for her it's also a huge confidence boost for me because I had got my knickers (no pun intended) in a right twist. I had started to convince myself that there was a problem when all I really had to do was promise Beth a trip to Snakes and Ladders at the end of her toiletry exploits and voila! It comes and goes for Bethan - she does it when she can be arsed to be honest. It's exactly the same as when we were waiting patiently (not!) for her to walk.
I suppose this is something most working mothers have to get used to. You do all of the ground work and the moment your back is turned and you are trying to explain the difference between a transitive and intransitive verb to a group of confused looking 13 year olds, your baby or toddler decides to take their first step or crawl or wee in their potty.
The kids are definitely as unsettled as I am, as is the cat but she's always pissed off to be honest. Besides the guilt of leaving them I have a) the guilt of missing important rites of passage b) the guilt of not being as entertaining as the nanny when I am off work and c) the guilt of being a Roman Catholic (I was a HUGE Alanis Morissette back in the day).
Another thing that cheesed me off today was that bloody woman famous for being on 'The Apprentice' again. Not content with offending parents who have children called Charmaine or children who have soft play birthday parties (to summarise, she is a snob and assumes these children have no academic rigour) one week later she is telling Phil and Holly and a rather large lady who is well-qualified and looking for a job, that she "would not employ a fat person because they are lazy and lack ambition". The This Morning team in their sub-heading labelled her a "fattist".
This was then followed by a commercial break where MacDonalds are claiming to be the Kofi Annan of the 21st Century non-nuclear family. Apparently all a young teenage boy needs to do is share a Big Mac with their prospective step-father and bang! Peace will reign in your household.
I give up.
Unfortunately it happened whilst I was at work, Boo! :-(
When I got Rob's text I started shouting with happiness in the English Office; I'm sure my colleagues were confused and thought I was getting overly excited about meeting my new Year 8 class. When I explained why I was so euphoric I got the customary "Aww!"
Bethan's first wee on the potty isn't just a rite of passage for her it's also a huge confidence boost for me because I had got my knickers (no pun intended) in a right twist. I had started to convince myself that there was a problem when all I really had to do was promise Beth a trip to Snakes and Ladders at the end of her toiletry exploits and voila! It comes and goes for Bethan - she does it when she can be arsed to be honest. It's exactly the same as when we were waiting patiently (not!) for her to walk.
I suppose this is something most working mothers have to get used to. You do all of the ground work and the moment your back is turned and you are trying to explain the difference between a transitive and intransitive verb to a group of confused looking 13 year olds, your baby or toddler decides to take their first step or crawl or wee in their potty.
The kids are definitely as unsettled as I am, as is the cat but she's always pissed off to be honest. Besides the guilt of leaving them I have a) the guilt of missing important rites of passage b) the guilt of not being as entertaining as the nanny when I am off work and c) the guilt of being a Roman Catholic (I was a HUGE Alanis Morissette back in the day).
Another thing that cheesed me off today was that bloody woman famous for being on 'The Apprentice' again. Not content with offending parents who have children called Charmaine or children who have soft play birthday parties (to summarise, she is a snob and assumes these children have no academic rigour) one week later she is telling Phil and Holly and a rather large lady who is well-qualified and looking for a job, that she "would not employ a fat person because they are lazy and lack ambition". The This Morning team in their sub-heading labelled her a "fattist".
This was then followed by a commercial break where MacDonalds are claiming to be the Kofi Annan of the 21st Century non-nuclear family. Apparently all a young teenage boy needs to do is share a Big Mac with their prospective step-father and bang! Peace will reign in your household.
I give up.
Thursday 3rd January 2013
Potty Training Aborted!!! I repeat Potty Training Aborted!!!!
All the books, websites, Health Visitor info, leaflets, other Alpha Mum advice, my mum's advice, fancy potties (of which we have 3 which have all received rave reviews) are up to no good when your nearly 3 year old daughter says to you three times in one day,
"Mummy, I'm sad"
:-(
Nothing is worth that - I know that Bethan will do it when she is ready and not when I want her to. She didn't walk until she was 19 and a half months but she did eventually learn to walk. I do not believe that my wee girl will be in Pull Ups by the time her dad walks her up the aisle!
Already, the house is much happier.
:-)
All the books, websites, Health Visitor info, leaflets, other Alpha Mum advice, my mum's advice, fancy potties (of which we have 3 which have all received rave reviews) are up to no good when your nearly 3 year old daughter says to you three times in one day,
"Mummy, I'm sad"
:-(
Nothing is worth that - I know that Bethan will do it when she is ready and not when I want her to. She didn't walk until she was 19 and a half months but she did eventually learn to walk. I do not believe that my wee girl will be in Pull Ups by the time her dad walks her up the aisle!
Already, the house is much happier.
:-)
Wednesday 2nd January: Potty Training: Day 1
Potty Training: Day 1 in the Hillier house
Number of wees in potty = 0
Number of poos in potty = 0
Number of wees on the rug, carpet and James' toys = 1
Number of wees on bed and rug and carpet in Bethan's room = 1
Number of wees on stairs = 1
Number of wees in the cupboard under the stairs = 1
Number of times James tried to eat the potty = 3
Packet of Dettol wipes used = 1
Tearful phonecall to Mum = 1
Numbers of Gin and Tonic consumed before going to bed = 0 (Now that's strength!)
Number of wees in potty = 0
Number of poos in potty = 0
Number of wees on the rug, carpet and James' toys = 1
Number of wees on bed and rug and carpet in Bethan's room = 1
Number of wees on stairs = 1
Number of wees in the cupboard under the stairs = 1
Number of times James tried to eat the potty = 3
Packet of Dettol wipes used = 1
Tearful phonecall to Mum = 1
Numbers of Gin and Tonic consumed before going to bed = 0 (Now that's strength!)
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