High on the list of things that someone should tell people before they have babies (not that they'd believe you), is the bathroom issue. Sandi, I hate to admit it, but I seem to recall that even in your wonderful book, no mention of the Bathroom Problem is included. I gaze upon you and the others who pregged before me, with that slightly sad, disappointed gaze that only a mother can bring to bear.
Right, then the Bathroom Problem. (At this point, certain readers might want to stop reading. Such as my father. And possibly the MIL and FIL. I'm not going to be graphic here, but I will touch briefly on issues that might make them uncomfortable.)
(My father now throws his hands up and stalks off muttering about daughters who nag him to read the blog and then tell him to stop. Right then, I think we're ready.)
Okay, so what you are not told is that, unless you are ruthless about your playpen usage, your child will want to accompany you into the bathroom. Which means that, while you are attempting to focus on your business, the baby is wandering around the bathroom, scattering tissues and - in one notable case - pulling up loose tiles.
Our babes loves toilet paper. We keep a basket of tub toys in the bathroom, but he disdains these in favor of good old t.p. He shreds the t.p., chews on it (I worried briefly about pica, but I think that's just him playing around), and flings it about. At this stage in the game, he is starting to understand me when I say things like 'not food,' or 'not for you.' It might not stop him, but he does look up and take note.
Some days ago, I was busy while he played his usual shredding games. He popped some toilet paper in his mouth, and I told him 'no, that's not food.' He considered this, then offered the t.p. to me. 'Nope,' I told him, 'that's not food for me, either.'
He thought this over for a while, and then crawled over to my knee. He stood up, and waved his bit of toilet paper between my knees. I laughed and hugged him. 'Yes,' I told him. 'That is what toilet paper is for. But Mummy likes to do it herself, okay?'
Clever widget of a child, that one.
Right, then the Bathroom Problem. (At this point, certain readers might want to stop reading. Such as my father. And possibly the MIL and FIL. I'm not going to be graphic here, but I will touch briefly on issues that might make them uncomfortable.)
(My father now throws his hands up and stalks off muttering about daughters who nag him to read the blog and then tell him to stop. Right then, I think we're ready.)
Okay, so what you are not told is that, unless you are ruthless about your playpen usage, your child will want to accompany you into the bathroom. Which means that, while you are attempting to focus on your business, the baby is wandering around the bathroom, scattering tissues and - in one notable case - pulling up loose tiles.
Our babes loves toilet paper. We keep a basket of tub toys in the bathroom, but he disdains these in favor of good old t.p. He shreds the t.p., chews on it (I worried briefly about pica, but I think that's just him playing around), and flings it about. At this stage in the game, he is starting to understand me when I say things like 'not food,' or 'not for you.' It might not stop him, but he does look up and take note.
Some days ago, I was busy while he played his usual shredding games. He popped some toilet paper in his mouth, and I told him 'no, that's not food.' He considered this, then offered the t.p. to me. 'Nope,' I told him, 'that's not food for me, either.'
He thought this over for a while, and then crawled over to my knee. He stood up, and waved his bit of toilet paper between my knees. I laughed and hugged him. 'Yes,' I told him. 'That is what toilet paper is for. But Mummy likes to do it herself, okay?'
Clever widget of a child, that one.
1 comment:
I am ruthless in my play pen usage. I am horribly "private" when it comes to bathroom time and so from the very beginning it was, no, this is mom's private time. Sometimes #1 can not be helped, such as in public restrooms but #2... he is four and a half and has never been in the same room for that.
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