Potty Training is Pants

Potty training is pants 

Ok I confess I am a lazy bitch. When I can opt for the easy option I will. And I do. And I probably shouldn't.

Boy is 3 now. And still in pull ups. And he probably shouldn't be. I mean if Super Nanny popped round for a cuppa in my best Laura Ashley cups no less, I would be hanging my head in shame or making up some bull about having a hand disability in the shape of pulling pants down and lifting someone onto the toilet. Mind you, that would leave her wondering why I didn't piss myself on a daily basis - who pulls my pants down? 

(Usually my credit card company to be fair) 

Anyway, he's not potty trained because the effort it involves is mental! 

How long can it take one miniature individual to grasp the concept of needing a wee or poo, take themselves to the potty or toilet and let it go let it go.. (Can anyone utter those 3 little words without breaking into song these days?)

Well I'll tell you, fricking ages..! 

There aren't enough public conveniences in the world to make this achievable when you're out and about, and I go out and about a lot. Mainly because if I didn't I would probably have to vacuum or dust. 

Add to the lack of toilets in general, those shops that say you can't possibly use their toilet unless you buy something and you're left with a nightmare. 

Incontinent miniature person with no bladder control to squeeze it back, Pretty soon you will find yourself stood with piss on your uggs (every lazy bitch's staple footwear) and a boy in wet clothes. 

If you're of similar lazy or plain incompetent breeding like my good self, you will find yourself regularly without spare clothes, because you used the last set on the last 'little accident' and forgot to replenish the stocks in your handbag, which is now not a handbag anyway, it's a backpack. 

That causes a whole new dimension in potty training, because boy ends up with a new outfit and I end up £15 poorer each excursion. 

What's a mum meant to do? Stay in for the month until miniature person masters his craft? Imagine what that would do to a person. I'd be Jeremy Kyled up to the eyeballs. 

As it stands, it's a work in progress. He dribbles in his pants more times than a nun in a cucumber field, he has a great wardrobe of new clothes, I have a built in toilet finding radar, I've recorded myself saying "do you want a wee wee, are you sure you don't want a wee wee" to play at regular intervals throughout the day just to save my voice and I've just invested my life savings (roughly £10) in Andrex. 

I'm sure there's light at the end of this incontinence tunnel because I can't recall anyone at University in Cars 2 Pull Ups.. Or stood in the canteen queue with wet trousers - well except the ancient lecturers.. It comes back round you see, we start and end incontinent. Except no mummy to guide you through it later on. 

I think I've started already, I laughed too hard the other day and a bit of wee came out. And I'm not even going to tell you about trampoline-gate. So really, am I qualified to guide boy through potty training?? 

Now I've started I best finish the job though, he's doing ok for a beginner. He presents me with each poo poo as it happens, fresh and warm. 

*Mummies eating her tea* 

oh look, fresh steamer right under my nose. I live in fear of him dropping it as he lifts it from the floor to the table so I get a front row view- what's that for tea.. beans, mash and fresh dump. 

But, I'm sure this will pass, he'll soon be in his big boy pants, toilets trips will just occur, no one will feel the need to display their last supper and I can go back to being lazy, unless of course my need for Tena lady presents itself and I have to start the process all over... With myself!!