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Tuesday, 2 July 2013


A change of seasons quite often brings bugs. I am pretty sure a stuffy classroom full of 5 year olds on a cold winter’s day also brings bugs.

A few weeks ago my youngest did the un thinkable, he vomited in the car, all over himself whilst I was doing the school run. It was my own fault, well not the vomiting part, that’s a bug that lurches itself, out of control via the mouth.

The car seat and him, that was my fault. I knew he wasn’t feeling well. I had no choice but to put him in the car though. I had to drop the other two at school. I had grabbed a plastic bag thinking for a split second if he does vomit, he can vomit into that.

Good thinking-Yes….

Only one problem though. I didn’t hand it to him soon enough. Not more than a minute after my eldest got out of the car did it happen.

It starts with a cough and you just know it’s going to get nasty.

I reached and threw the bag to him whilst negotiating a right hand turn. For a split second I could have been rally driving considering the skill that it took to do that..

Have you seen that Ikea ad? ‘GRAB THE CAR, GRAB THE CAR” Yep I sounded just like her except I was yelling “GRAB THE BAG, GRRRRAAAABBBB THE BAG!!!!”

Too little too late, and unlike the Ikea ad, it was not a happy ending. Vomit everywhere. That bag that was meant to save the carseat made it worse. It just served as a slippery platform for the projecting vomit to travel on.

So this brings me to today. Middle child wakes with a funny tummy. Ahhhhh ahhh moment, grab a bag for the car trip.

Grasshopper has learnt well, said bag given to said child early on and what do you know, that lurching out of control bug is contained!

Gastro and cars do not bode well. Although today was a win for me and no carseat to clean up either!

School Yard tales

Toilet training and the turmoils we face.
Hands up who has been through this? We all face challenges with having children, but this topic is one that we can laugh about, and often. You’d be hard pressed to find no one with a tale to tell.

I was waiting at school the other day for my 5 year old. As the minutes rolled by more and more Mum’s congregate outside the door, waiting patiently. As one topic turns into another toilet training pops up. It soon turns into sharing hilarious stories about our own children and their training days. The roar of laughter was infectious.

J- “My daughter always chose to poop in her pants at a particular friend’s house. Why this friend? No idea, but invariably we would be visiting and the old catch phrase of G has pooped we gotta go became too common!”

G-“My 2 year old decided to poop in her pants. I just throw them away now. Who wants to clean that up?”

Whilst talking, J notices out of the corner of her eye something unfolding. She makes the mad dash, leaping through the school yard, dodging kids with ease to reach her son who had decided the small patch of grass was perfect for doing a wee on. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…. Not at school….please!!!!

Snigger, chuckle, snort.

My three were all quite good with toilet training. Besides a few little hiccups and washing of clothes we got through the training relatively un scathed.

My eldest did have an incident once at the shops though. And yes, it involved a particular favourite pair of jocks….

I was in the supermarket. I always say to my children before leaving the house, go to the toilet as there may not be one whilst we are out. Fortunately for me on this day there was one.

I had taken my time, exploring the aisles with my then 3 year old. We get to the check out and he proclaims. “Mummy I need to do a poo”

Ah geez, really? Now? Can you hold on for 5 mins whilst we get the shopping loaded and paid for?
Please just 5 mins… 5 lousy minutes was all I needed to scoodaddle out of there.

No he could not wait, who was I kidding, this kid was in training. He hadn’t got to the mastered stage yet. The nappy stage was still fresh in my mind and obviously his because from the time it took for me to grab him and abandon my full trolley barely having time to push it out of the way whilst telling the checkout chick I would be back-it was done.

We scramble into the toilets and make the mad dash to sit down….too late… favourite jocks were tainted. I cleaned him up and threw the jocks into the bin much to the disgust of my three year old.

“MUMMMY!!!! They are my favourite jocks”

How to explain to a three year old the thought of tucking them into my bag for the trip home was NEVER going to happen?!

I am pleased to say, he wasn’t scarred by the incident. He also never did it again.

At the time these incidents make you cringe. Don’t let them, embrace the toilet humour and laugh!

What stories have you got? Was it smooth sailing or a bumpy road to travel?