I cannot contain my excitement…the children have gone back to school! Quiet days will return and I can have the telly back for my chat shows. As I snuggle down for my morning coffee I notice that I am resting my mug on something unfamiliar. Almost having a heart attack I realise I have managed to attach a rather decent sized spare tyre of chub around my waist.
I am not sure how it got there, or where it came from, I just assume that the ‘fat fairies’ came to visit me during the festive period and unlucky for me I had not noticed them attaching it, being far too busy with my mince pie munching. It is only now in the cold light of the new year that I have caught the horrifying sight. .
Okay, I am not going to panic. To shift this new found friend of mine I guess I will have to have a couple of lifestyle changes.
Number one - to rid this flat of all selection boxes, sweeties wrapped in coloured foil along with any other festive nibbles that might be lurking.
Number two - Start getting some exercise as lifting remote towards telly is no longer being classed as strenuous movement (apparently).
And Number three not allowing the devilish creamy taste of a certain liqueur to pass my lips for at least another year. Trust me that will be harder than it sounds.
By the end of the afternoon I have managed most of the first lifestyle change. Using a repeating pattern of eat one choc/bin one choc I get through the unwanted nibbles pretty quick. Okay I had intended for them to all go in the bin but waste not want not - there is no need to throw away decent chocolate, especially as my body will be a chocolate free zone for the next year. Eating a box in front of the box can hardly make it much worse..??
I am impressed that by the time the man arrives home from work that I am up to date with all my soaps and programmes.
To celebrate the last evening of slobbing, I decide to finish it off with my creamy liqueur as the perfect ending.
By bedtime my spare tyre is left full to the brim, and admittedly feels quite cosy.
Lifestyle changes two and three? They start tomorrow...
Sunday, 11 January 2009
Perfectly Potty
I have read the books, watched the DVD and asked fellow Mummies for advice, but I have finally hit a wall, with my head.
I am trying to potty train Toddler son. Unfortunately the only person going potty around here is me. I have even invested in a flash super funky potty that cost a bomb to try and encourage my little rat - to no avail.
In my struggle over past few weeks I have been reassured by other mothers ‘ you never see a grown man walking around in Pull up’s’ being their support. I am starting to think that they may have to retract that statement. Toddler could well become that man at this rate.
I must give toddler credit where it is due. He has come up with many other inventive ways to use his trendy potty,
Monday it became his hat, Tuesday it was his portable toy box,
Wednesday Potty became a scary monster and was banished to the bathroom for the day, Thursday it was his dinosaurs house, and Friday it is a bin for his empty raisin packets.
Funnily enough the whole week it has stayed dry, yet to see any liquid whatsoever.
I am becoming quite bored of this dancing around the potty game. I am also feeling quite poor after investing half my life savings into character pants to try and encourage some ‘big boy’ toilet behaviour. Broken willed and broke of money I decide that I will just give it a break for a while. Surely he will learn with time.
Just as I sit down with a cup of tea I hear a sneaky tinkle noise coming from the bathroom. Almost knocking my cup over, I run in to find toddler sitting upright on trendy potty. In my excitement I grab him and praise his achievement.
In my overjoyed state I don’t realise that toddler was in fact mid flow. I have been sprayed as has the rest of the bathroom. Toddler is distressed at my interruption. I clean up quickly and reward him for his potty efforts with some chocolate. It is only as he is chomping down that I think - what if he thinks that he is being rewarded for weeing on me?
Two steps forward a wee one back.
I am trying to potty train Toddler son. Unfortunately the only person going potty around here is me. I have even invested in a flash super funky potty that cost a bomb to try and encourage my little rat - to no avail.
In my struggle over past few weeks I have been reassured by other mothers ‘ you never see a grown man walking around in Pull up’s’ being their support. I am starting to think that they may have to retract that statement. Toddler could well become that man at this rate.
I must give toddler credit where it is due. He has come up with many other inventive ways to use his trendy potty,
Monday it became his hat, Tuesday it was his portable toy box,
Wednesday Potty became a scary monster and was banished to the bathroom for the day, Thursday it was his dinosaurs house, and Friday it is a bin for his empty raisin packets.
Funnily enough the whole week it has stayed dry, yet to see any liquid whatsoever.
I am becoming quite bored of this dancing around the potty game. I am also feeling quite poor after investing half my life savings into character pants to try and encourage some ‘big boy’ toilet behaviour. Broken willed and broke of money I decide that I will just give it a break for a while. Surely he will learn with time.
Just as I sit down with a cup of tea I hear a sneaky tinkle noise coming from the bathroom. Almost knocking my cup over, I run in to find toddler sitting upright on trendy potty. In my excitement I grab him and praise his achievement.
In my overjoyed state I don’t realise that toddler was in fact mid flow. I have been sprayed as has the rest of the bathroom. Toddler is distressed at my interruption. I clean up quickly and reward him for his potty efforts with some chocolate. It is only as he is chomping down that I think - what if he thinks that he is being rewarded for weeing on me?
Two steps forward a wee one back.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
