Poo; Of People, Birds and A Bear of said Name...

The tiny one is sound asleep, tucked under my arm.

My Headache has been reduced to a dull throbbing.

The Snot Queen and her daddy have long since retired to bed and the radio is playing a mad mix of sounds that are supposed to be ambient and chilly - outie but instead just sound like church.

Time to rehash the best and worst bits of my day...

The tiny one has been making a lot of noise about poo for the last few months. For a brief spell last November, she even got into the habit of doing a poo in the toilet each day for about a week. So this morning, after three weeks of house arrest and a not so charming deposit on the white carpet in the spare room after her bath yesterday morning, I decided to take a gamble and leave her nappy free for the day with the potty nearby if she wanted it.

There was much initial excitement and plenty of 'trial sits' where she'd call out "Baby Poo!" run and sit on the potty for five or so seconds, announce she was, "All done!" and proceed to gaze expectantly into the empty potty, wondering where the hell the poo had gotten to.

The morning continued on as normal with the exception that the Tiny One's daily poo seemed to be taking a holiday. No worries though, it was just an experiment after all.

Then the Snot Queen announced that she had to poo and that she wanted to do it on the potty.

Cue WWIII.

The second her bottom touched the potty, all hell broke completely and utterly loose. The tiny one was in hysterics.

"NO LILY POO!!!!! BABY POTTY!!!!! BABY POO!!!!! NO LILY!!! NOOOO!!!!!!"

Thinking she might get a kick out of seeing a real poo in the potty, I took her over to see it when her sister was done.

I thought wrong. Very wrong.

" NOOOOOOOO LILY POOOOOO IN BABY POTTY!!!!!!! NOOOOOO!!!!!! MOMMMMMMMMYYYY!!!!"

At this point, the Snot Queen wandered off to a quiet corner to read a book and get away from the poo shrieking madness.

The Tiny One followed. And as is normal behaviour for an upset child at naptime, she was quick to transfer her outrage to a new target.

"NOOOOO LILY BOOK!!!!! BABY BOOK!!!! MOMMMMMYYYYYY!!!!! BABY MOKIES (*code word for milk. A little less obvious then her previous cry of "BOOBIES!!!")

She then proceeded to turn towards me and walk smack into a kitchen chair.

Just when you thought the meltdown couldn't get any worse, it did...

It was about this point that I decided enough was enough and called out the magic word, "OUTSIDE!!!"

On went the nappy. On went the clothes. On went the boots and out we all went into the garden where the girls jumped off their escess energy on the trampoline and I cleaned bird poo off of the garden furniture and hung out a load of wash on my freshly made clothesline.

At some point, the Snotzer disappeared back indoors, but I kept calling out and she kept answering so I assumed all was well.

Beginner's mistake.

I went in a few minutes later to find her happily playing away in the bathroom with both taps running and a good inch of water on the bathroom floor.

I'm actually quite impressed with how well I handled the situation. There was no shouting, no swearing and no tears (after 3 weeks of isolation I'm pretty well institutionalized at this point.) Instead, I calmly closed the door on the floodlands and through on a Pooh Bear video, thereby buying the little darlings a reprieve and myself thirty minutes of sanity in which to restore order to the disaster zone that was once my house.

Floods dried, muddy floors mopped and children fed, we had just cracked into the play dough when a miracle occurred.

An imposing figure in head to toe motorcycle gear appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

Daddy was off early.

And now I am off as well, to bed.

Good Night! x