As you’ll probably remember, Hannah is not so into pooping on the toilet/potty. But, she wears underwear and had absolutely no issues with doing all of her pooping in those. Sigh.
In the morning, she excitedly told me that she could open the door because she is a big girl now.
Sure enough, she toddled over to the bathroom door, fiddled with it for a bit and to my surprise, it opened (we have very high door handles, she can only just reach them. And only on her tippy toes). She was delighted. And I made a huge fuss.
“Good job Hannah! You’re such a big girl now!!”
Related post: Poop in the shopping centre
Well, she turned three yesterday. She had a fantastic day. She helped me make waffles for breakfast (at her request).
We went to McDonald’s for lunch. Again, her request. Not the she ate anything. She did eat a few chips, but Daniel ate all of her nuggets. Yeah, my little chubba at 4.5 nuggets. He had a go at all 6, but he dropped some on the ground. She played on big slide thing there with YaYa and found rat poop all over the top of the slide. Awesome. Just what you want your kids playing in. YaYa told the manager who looked about 12 years old, but he just stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language. Seriously, he didn’t say a word when she told him. Just that what-the-f$*#-do-you-want-me-to-do-about-it, why-don’t-you-clean-it-up-yourself stare. Great managing, McDonalds.
Aaron got off work an hour early so that he would get home at 5:40 instead of 6:40. But then the trains were all delayed and he got home at 6. Stupid Cityrail….
She opened a million presents (because Grandma got her way too many. As usual.) whilst wearing the blue party hat that she really, really wanted.
She is obsessed with Mickey Mouse, so The Jess and I made her a Mickey Mouse cake. Ok, Hannah and I baked it, The Jess decorated it. She’s all skilled like that. She told me she wanted a pink cake and a chocolate cake, so we made strawberry cake and mudcake and swirled them together. YUMMY!
We (and by we, I mean me) put all of the used wrapping paper and paper from the presents, and paper bowls from the cake and ice cream (what, I didn’t want to wash up 7 bowls. I don’t even have 7 bowls!) in a garbage bag and put it in the kitchen. Which, I might add, is on the other side of the baby gate. The side Daniel is not allowed on.
I didn’t give Daniel any cake. He’s not even 1. He doesn’t need cake. Next thing I know, he’s sitting next to the fence with a paper bowl covering his whole face. He was slurping what was left of the ice cream out of that bowl and squealing in delight.
“Daniel, NO!” I told him. How he even managed to get the bowl, I’m not sure. Boy’s got skills when it comes to food. I took the bowl from him which prompted screams and revealed a nice layer of ice cream in his hair.
It was a busy, fun day. But did she poop in the toilet or potty? No. She didn’t poop at all.
So never goes 2 days without pooping. So today was p-day. Poop on the potty day. She told me she would because she’s “a big girl now.”
We drove an hour to see some friends today. She didn’t poop. We came home. She didn’t poop. Had dinner. Still no poop. Had a bath. I got them ready for bed.
“Did you poop?” I asked Daniel. It smelled like his brand. A quick sniff of his clothed butt (sometimes as a mom, I kinda feel like a dog) ruled him out.
“Hannah, did you poop?”
“No.” She told me in that weird I-really-did-but-don’t-want-you-to-know-I-did voice.
And then I jumped out the window.
Ok, not really. But that’s what I felt like doing.
Instead I lost my marbles and told her she has to wear a nappy until learns how to poop on the toilet. She screamed and cried and kicked, but she’s wearing a nappy.
One day, she will poop on the toilet. One day.
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Copyright 2012 Sheri Thomson