You can call me.....

Mrs Tiggywinkle!
We were doing really well with the little pants all weekend, then something changed when we hit Monday morning....

We were just about to head out to the park when I thought I'd stick a load of washing on to try and get on top of the housework. Whilst unloading the clean stuff, one of the paddle things in the drum came out with a pair of jeans ;/ The raw metal inside looked like it would shred any type of fabric the instant it came into contact with it. My heart sank as I gazed to the Everest like peaks of dirty laundry on my kitchen floor. Nooooooooooooo. It's just over 3 weeks since the warranty expired! PANTS!! (you got it Annie!)

So, I must have been carrying this anxious washerwoman vibe round with me that morning. I had, perhaps foolishly under the circumstances, decided to put M in his undies. Mistake. I managed to miss 3 wees: 3 extra pairs of wet pants *and* trousers to wash. And after M being dry all weekend ;( Poor wee man had no clean trousers at all, I had to go and buy some more!

I think it must've been a combination of my anxiety rubbing off on him, and the fact he was being back carried. As I mentioned before, I seem to be illiterate when it comes to reading his signals when he's on my back. Funny- he tells me, with a jiggle and a sign, when he's on my hip.

And my dirty laundry. Well add to this morning of non-ECing the fact the Esme fell into an enormous puddle of mud at the park, and caked every item of clothing in dirt so I had to drive her home naked from the waist down.....And then into another puddle again outside our house later in the day..... It was ridiculous!

Miraculously I have managed to wash it all. The washer manufacturer sent me the parts free of charge, a kind friend did a load for me and the laundrette was a convenient option of a dreary Tuesday when we had nowhere else to go! Machine is now fixed and merrily spinning the last load as I type..... Thank you for smiling on me universe!

It's just a phase....

It's funny how little phases of behaviour seem so important when you're stuck in the middle of them, and then before you know it you've forgotten they ever even happened.

Like potty "strikes". I'd completely forgotten about the way Esme used to decide she absolutely *was not* going to go on the pot, despite both her and I knowing she really needed to. She'd communicate this by arching her back, crying, sometimes just getting off and bum shuffling away. I always found it a bit frustrating: it was hard to just go with it, when it meant there'd be a wet nappy or puddle on the floor seconds later. The "proper" behaviour would always come back, whether or not I got stressed and uptight about it.

Magnus has served a reminder of the potty strike for me throughout the tail end of 2008, though so far this year he is much less resistant to going (thank goodness!). Happy New Year by the way....

His strikes, pauses, whatever you want to call them, have differed from Esme's. Actually many other aspects of mothering him are very different to how I was with her, but I'll ramble if I try and go into that now... I think I've been a lot more laid back about losing the pottying groove, and also more creative. I discovered his refusal to wee on the travel "bowl" when out and about was indicative of his desire to go like a big boy on the real toilet ;) I've also found that he really likes having a distraction, wherever we are. For Esme this was always a book but Mags prefers something to hold and mess with when I'm holding him on the bucket. Perhaps this is a precursor to holding and messing with his willy when he's a bigger boy!

It's been less irritating for me to witness times when he's flat refused as I knew for certain it was definitely just a phase. And, our groove certainly seems to be back now. The wee man is going when he needs to, on the bowl, the loo, the bucket, in a bush.....wherever. He's also signing for his potty quite clearly and consistently, which is very helpful, and cute. Last night he was dry all night despite me being a bit lazy not taking him to the pot, which really surprised me.

I'm glad this phase of resistance seems to be passing. It's really been OK to go through it, but it's much nicer working together.

Bye bye sweet baby poo

The last couple of weeks have seen big changes in Magnus. He's now blowing raspberries, gurgling away, sighing, yelping, sitting up, rolling, sort of getting onto all fours, commando crawling and eating! Pretty much all these things seemed to start happening at the last full moon. Bonkers.

He was sucking away on the odd bit of pepper, cucumber, steamed carrot etc... but not really getting anything, for a few weeks. Then on said full moon day he demolished an entire banana. With very little mess ;/ Since then he has enthusiastically put away just about everything I've offered him, the one exception being fig! The sad realisation that my baby is getting big fast is dawning ever more rapidly on me. Baby led weaning is great fun though, how come I never knew about this with Esme?!

The big downside to eating "proper" food is that I have to say goodbye to the yummy buttermilky-popcorny breastmilky poos he's been doing and hello to.....well, you can imagine. That's probably waaaaaaaaaay too much information for most people but I'm not at all squeamish, else I wouldn't be so happy to chat about EC'n. Thankfully we are still 100% clean and pretty much dry too so the change of input doesn't seem to have affected output!

I found the potty-bowl I thought I left in the pub. It was in the car, full of stale urine. Which is preferable to in the Peel Arms full of stale urine, in my opinion ;) I hope Granny didn't get around to asking them for it! I've just ordered a portable dog bowl to use as a potty so we'll see how that works when it arrives from Australia.

I've also taken the plunge and ordered a nice babywearing fleece. Contrary to DH's opinion a warm jacket is an essential item for the UK in Autumn/Winter and not a frivolous purchase at all ;) The merino wool elephant hood I plan to buy for Magnus could possibly come into that category.... However, I've saved a packet this week by turning a £5 IKEA tablecloth into a new wrap! So I can cross the Didymos off the most wanted list for now, and, more importantly wash my beautiful Lana wrap (that has become a stinky rag of late)

I've lost the pot.....

I've been having a very successful time with ECing Magnus lately, including quite a few 100% dry and clean days. I don't remember having this with Esme 'til she was much older, he is only just six months old.

I've been feeling pretty upbeat about pottying and my confidence must be rubbing off on him: I've been doing it out and about (on Levenshulme High St waiting for the bus, in public loos, Whitworth Art Gallery!...) and even managed to keep him totally dry throughout the day on Saturday at a family wedding where he was passed about the relatives like a happy little parcel ;) Often when he's not close I lose my sense of when he wants to go but he was holding on for ages and telling me very clearly.

I''ve found my ideal travel potty, in the form of a small IKEA mixing bowl with a lid, part of a set I already owned and hadn't thought to adopt for this purpose. Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced it. After re-tracing my steps, the last place I can think of using it is the Peel Arms in Padfield, where we had pub grub on Sunday before we went to Padfield Plum Festival. Magnus weed in it, impressing his family and raising the eyebrows of a couple of baffled looking locals. I put the bowl (lid on) under the "banquette" thing.... and forgot it. ]

If the pub people have found it they must wonder what sort of strange "not-local" folks have been visiting for their festival. Who on earth would leave a small bowl of urine under a bench in the pub?!! Granny wonders if she should try to retrieve it but how would one go about asking for this back?

As I mention confidence above, I would like to say how easy it is for this to be sapped by others' negative vibes. With EC (and most other things parenting related) I am usually pretty thick skinned. But the same local lady who sneered at Magnus weeing in his bowl in the Peel Arms was staring at me as I santa-tossed him over my shoulder to wrap him on: I had a real wobble, nearly dropped him and couldn't do it. A total physical/mental block on babywearing. Perhaps she was a witch! Or maybe I just felt her thoughts: "how dangerous....." ;(
Must work on strengthening my protective bubble when up in the windy wilds of the peaks!