So, you know when...

Yesterday took the piss. Literally.

It started when (unknown to me) the toddler used the potty, put down the lid and merrily went about his business. Some time later he arrived back in the living room to tell me the potty was full and he needed to use it. I was a little suspicious when I realised that his socks, trousers and jumper were wet through and went to investigate. He had obviously decided that he needed to use the potty again whilst watching Paw Patrol and carried the full potty through from the kitchen to the living room, depositing said contents all over himself and the floor in the process.

He was incredibly pleased that he managed to move the potty such a distance without spilling any(!) so I dutifully stripped him, emptied the potty and left him to refill it whilst I spread towels across the floor and powered up the Vax steam mop.

I checked on him every few minutes but was told very firmly to ‘go away’ on each occasion. I carried on making the tea (which on his request were chip butties and cut up veg). Twenty minutes later, tea was ready and he was still firmly attached to the potty. Bearing in mind he had been constipated for a while I had been gearing myself up for the outcome. As he stood up I looked on in what can only be described as part horror, part confusion, part pride. A horse would have been proud of what his little body had produced.

Despite it being only 5pm he decided it was PJ time. Not one to argue at times like this I got out his minion onesie and steeled myself for the task ahead. As I executed the clean up operation he went to join the 7 year old at the table. The toddler then declared he didn’t like chips and so tea consisted of a slice of bread, a baby plum tomato and a Thomas the Tank Engine jelly.

Hours passed, the kids were in bed, beer had been consumed, film watched. (The Great Gatsby - amazing film). It was five minutes to midnight and I was ready to climb into PJ’s and snuggle under the duvet when a thought suddenly occurred. Turning to hubby I asked if he had put a Pull-Up on the toddler before bed. ‘No. Thought you had.’

I ran upstairs to find everything soaked. The sheets, the mattress, the onesie and the toddler happily sleeping in a puddle of his own making. Not only that but (for reasons which seemed relevant at the time but I can’t quite remember now) the toddler is sleeping with his brother in the cabin bed and there is now a puddle of wee creeping slowly towards his outstretched leg. So, here we have a situation where, in a somewhat cruel twist of fate, both boys are fast asleep and we have to not only wake them but relocate to other parts of the house and time is against us!

It’s midnight on a Friday and in a slightly twisted parenting version of The Crystal Maze here’s what’s happening:

Step 1: Lift toddler out of a cabin bed almost as high as my head. Strip him. Apply Pull-Up’s and new PJ’s - all against his wishes. He definitely perfected his sleepy evil eye look last night.

Step 2: Wake up the 7 year old as there’s no way we’re lifting him off the cabin bed. Tell him he’s sleeping with Mummy tonight. Cue bleary eyed confusion, turning into delight.

Step 3: Make up sofa bed in living room and find spare duvet, pillows etc.

Step 4: Relocate toddler from mummy’s bed to sofa bed, replace with 7 year old. Send hubby to sleep with toddler downstairs.

Step 5: Kiss hubby, 7 year old and toddler good night. Secretly wish you’d had another beer.

Step 6: Wake up at 6.15 with a 7 year old pretending he’s not trying to wake you up and remember there’s a soaking cabin bed mattress and a pile of wet clothes and sheets/duvets to deal with. Turn over and hope it goes away.

And that was my Friday night, ladies and gents. Have a great weekend!