It turns out having an infected wisdom tooth is not ideal when potty training. The second day has been something of a catalogue of mishaps, which means I am currently upstairs drinking hot, sweet tea whilst H and Zee play trains downstairs.
This morning started off promisingly again, with Zee showing lots of interest in wearing his pants and even sitting happily up and down on the potty and being very keen to get more stickers for his chart.
Unfortunately, the fact I have been in denial about a painful wisdom tooth all week, meant I had to break one of Gina’s golden rules after only 24 hours into potty training. I had to take Zee with me to the dentist, and I could not see how it would work with him in pants and me in a dentist chair, should he need to go. I didn’t want to put him, me or the dentist in that situation, so I resorted to a pull-up nappy. This is apparently meant to confuse things wholeheartedly, but I was pretty stuck.
And then followed a series of events, which gave me a SERIOUS sense of humour failure:
- Dentist diagnoses ‘massively infected wisdom tooth’ (owwwww) and gives me a prescription. Makes some mention of it needing to be stamped, but I wasn’t concentrating because, you know, pain and Zee was about to fall off his chair whilst heavily engrossed in Thomas
- Drive to pharmacy. I’d forgotten wallet. Leave prescription there and drive home.
- Return to pharmacy. The prescription hasn’t been stamped.
- Drive all the way back to dentist’s and have to park two roads away as parking is a nightmare. Zee is tired and hungry, so I carry him.
- Return to pharmacy, it’s lunchtime. Can I come back after 2pm? Excuse me for a moment, can I just slump over the counter and cry a bit here?
- A few hours later, Zee and I return to pharmacy, fourth time lucky; the drugs are mine.
Back at home, potty training resumes, and I never knew the words ‘Mummy, I need to sit on the potty’ could make me SO HAPPY. But alas, whilst he’s still happy to sit on the potty when he doesn’t need to go, when he does, it’s a whole different situation. Tears, accidents, he’s very distressed, which makes me feel AWFUL. He’s now asking for his big boy pants so he can use those instead of a nappy. I do not know what to do about this as he refuses and screams when I try and help him onto the potty. I won’t go into any graphic detail, but it’s a good job I love that kid so very, very much, because only a parent could (literally) handle what I just did and not ask for the nearest bucket to be passed.
I’m trying my best, he’s trying his and we’ll get there. I’m very grateful to have nursery’s help next Mon-Weds to carry on my (hopefully good by then) work. In the meantime, I am continuing to curse this infection. A stiff G&T would be seriously nice this evening.