Last week my daughter decided she is no longer a baby and ditched her night time nappy.
Just like that. No screaming matches, no endless nights of bed wetting, no trouble at all.
She declared “I’m not wearing that anymore” with a look of disgust on her face like I’d dragged that nappy though the gutter and let the cat play with it before handing it to her.
I wasn’t so sure she was ready. I mean she was only out of nappies two weeks previously. Surely this is too soon? Ok ok, I was thinking of myself really. Do I really want to spend the next three nights stripping the bed down at 3am and being too tired to do it properly so the whole house smells of wee when we wake up.
So I managed to get that nappy on her in the end.
But that night, when I went in to check on her before I went to bed, there was the nappy on the floor in the middle of her bedroom.
Just lying there, like she had put it in the postion mummy was most likely to see it as she opens the door.
She had obviously taken it off, thrown it away and got herself dressed again.
Of course in my mind, she had mapped out the distance to the door, decided on the best possible position for maximum mummy heartfailure the minute she clocked eyes on it and then got back into bed with a big grin on her face.
But for all my worrying, that was that. She’s been dry ever since. I can’t believe how easy it’s been.
However, this is my tearaway two-year-old we’re talking about so it’s not going to be as easy as that is it? It’s NEVER as easy as that.
She now won’t do anything she considers remotely babyish.
Booster seat at the dining table (that I splashed out on only recently from Mamas & Papas)? No.
Car seat with 3-point strap. No.
Bib. No way.
Holding hands. Uh uh.
Hubby says it’s only a phase. Oh how I hope it’s only a phase.
How many other mums and dads weather the turbulent storms of parenthood desperately telling themselves that? I think I might have T-shirts made up with that printed across and sell them at the nursery gate.