I’ll be straight with you. When I was first asked to participate in Mama Lama Ding Dong’s UK Virtual Book Tour, I wasn’t totally convinced.

For a start, I don’t do parenting memoirs – I enjoy keeping up with internet friends’ parenting experiences via their blogs, but that’s a far more interactive affair. If I actually get time to read a book, I’m looking for escapism – the last thing on my reading list is something which relives my normal every day life with two small children.

Secondly, what on EARTH would I (a routine-loving, organised, fairly conventional Brit living in an obscure and fairly average English town) have in common with Ayun Halliday (zany, spur-of-the-moment, bohemian attachment parent living in the heart of Manhattan)? What if I hated the book and couldn’t force myself to read beyond the first chapter?

What persuaded me to participate though, was Ayun’s insistence that I could completely slate the book if I so wished. Now that sounded like fun.

Actually, it turns out that we have a fair bit in common after all. We both have two children aged almost exactly 3 years apart (a bit of a weak link, I know, but I appreciated it all the same), we both passionately adored breastfeeding, we’re both city lovers (only I get to regret having moved away from my city), and we both reacted to the stifling tedium of being at home with small children by writing (I have my blog, she has her zine – the East Village Inky, a sort of low-tech blog with artistic doodlings and longer deadlines). She also isn’t afraid of appropriate swearing for emphasis and has a tendancy to plunge into far too much gruesome detail because, damnit, it’s funnier to watch you squirm.

I love this woman.

It also turns out that I love this book. Could hardly put it down in fact, which completely wrecked my plans to trash it. I spent most of my evenings sniggering incontrollably and annoying Akra by reading the choice bits out; the choice bits being whole chapters at a time. At the risk of using up all my adjectives in one go, I would say Mama Lama Ding Dong is light-hearted, vibrant and verging on the knicker-wettingly funny. Even during the serious bits.

Even though the language hasn’t been “translated” from US English, the humour travels well across the pond, being self-depreciating and brutally honest. (By the way, for my US readers, the book is being sold under its original title of The Big Rumpus over there. WHY they didn’t call it The Big Rumpus over here, I have no idea, but there you go) This is Ayun Halliday warts and all, during her triumphs and her less successful ventures. She’s a real live human being and not selling us the Super Mother dream or showing us up too much in our own failings. And, despite her irreverant flippancy, this isn’t someone whose life has always gone smoothly. Her chapters describing life in the NICU with her daughter, Inky, are particularly poignant and vivid. While she’s still laughing, it’s laughter through tears.

I asked Ayun about her experiences in the NICU, and if there was any advice she could provide to new parents who find themselves there:

The NICU was like this bizarre little cocoon, a not-quite-parallel universe I had no idea existed until I desperately required its services. Very few of my friends and acquaintances had had children when Inky was born, and apparently, all their babies came out right as rain, because I’d never heard tell of any instances where the baby didn’t come home with the mother or extreme procedures: CAT scans, high contrast MRIs, the ol’ Space Monkey IV in the top of the head. Now that I know lots of people with kids, I realize that the NICU is hardly an uncommon experience, but still, it’s exceptional enough to knock just about everyone who winds up in there for a big emotional loop. That’s true even if the only thing wrong with your baby is an easily addressed case of jaundice (strip em to their diapers, strap on a tiny pair of felt eye shades and throw ‘em under a sun lamp, where they bask like 1940′s movie stars).

I’m going to tailor my advice for families who wind up in the NICU, because that’s the only hospital experience I have. I had an extensive hospital stay when I contracted listeria while pregnant with Milo (read all about it in my most recent book, Dirty Sugar Cookies), but he came out healthy, emerging underwater in a free standing birthing center, a few weeks after I was discharged from the hospital. They let us go home after a few hours. It was glorious. I must admit to some feelings of gratitude that that happy, hippie dippie birthing experience was my second, and not my first. I’m sure I would have been insufferable if everything had gone so smoothly on the first go round, certain that anyone who encountered difficulties in labor was just not as open to the experience as I! Live and learn.

So, here’s my advice for parents, particularly first time parents, who find themselves in the NICU:

1. If your baby looks like he or she is shaping up to be a non-short-term guest, Mama needs to move on in. This won’t be an issue if Baby gave Mama a vaginal hematoma on the way out and additionally one of the stitches from Mama’s episiotomy has become infected – if that’s the case, they’ll hang onto your ass in the maternity ward for five whole days. (Tell your friends to bring you a couple of picnic baskets’ worth of good food and look out for that intern with the bottle of hydrogen peroxide!) But if the hospital gives you your walking papers while Baby’s still in the Big House, you need to infiltrate that NICU 24-7. I was permitted to stay in an isolation room, with the caveat that I’d get the boot if the room was needed for its stated purpose– I spent a lot of time wondering about babies with contagious diseases, though I think that room is also used for families whose baby’s death is imminent, to offer them such privacy as is available. Fortunately for all involved, there was no need more pressing than mine. Once when I mentioned how grateful I was to be able to stay, a nurse remarked that this option should be available to all nursing mothers. Not every baby in the NICU will be permitted or able to nurse, but even so, it’s still your right to advocate for the right to stay. Ask your partner or whoever else may have attended the birth to argue on your behalf, too. He or she might be able to present a more coherent, less histrionic case (I’m assuming that nothing traumatic has happened to Partner’s genitals in the last 24 hours.) Hopefully the staff will be happy to accommodate you, but don’t let yourself shrink like a spider on a hot skillet if they’re not. Tell them you’ll sleep in a chair beside your baby’s bassinet. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to act like a mouse-shaped doormat when your kid’s of school age, so act like a lion now…
2. …a lion who remembers to say “please” and “thank you”. Nurses get it on both ends. (There, Pewari, that ought to increase site traffic from male Internet users in the 14 – 30 year old age bracket!) What I mean is, from everything I’ve observed and heard, nurses are overworked, underpaid, and responsible for performing an unending cycle of unsavory but essential chores. You’re in something that feels like hell, but that hell would be a lot worse without all these good helpers. One thing that I didn’t quite manage to get into “Neo Natal Sweet Potato” was the evolution of my relationship with one of the NICU nurses. Unlike the other nurses, who exuded tenderness and concern, this one had a really harsh demeanor. She was probably twenty years older than me and was openly critical of all us mothers, how we handled our babies. She would mutter things like, “Why are you being so stupid?” Every time she came on shift, my heart sank, because I was very in need of babying myself, wondering what had gone wrong with my baby, whether she would ever get out, grieving the disparity between how I had thought it would be and how it was. I didn’t think I could feel any worse than I did, but this nurse seemed to have made it her personal mission to prove otherwise, and boy, was she succeeding. So, one morning, about four days into our ordeal, one of the neonatologists finds me weeping beside Inky’s incubator, and although she tended to be a fairly brisk fish herself, she paused to ask me what was wrong. I (melodramatically) snapped that I had a sick baby; It is to her credit that she didn’t roll her eyes and move on, given that among the many patients in her care were two crazed crack babies, an abandoned preemie, and at least one permanently and severely damaged child whose immigrant parents didn’t speak English and appeared to be living well below the poverty line. Instead, she lingered and within seconds, I was tattling on the mean nurse. “I’ll speak to her,” the doctor said, making a note on her clipboard. The next morning, when that nurse came on shift Greg had himself braced to spring to my defense, knowing that I was a gossamer thread away from nervous collapse. But lo and behold, she walked right up to us, made this funny little bow and very formally wished us a good morning. It felt like a miracle, given that she never greeted anyone, not even her fellow employees. Well, that was better, but I didn’t feel inclined to let go of my grudge. Righteous indignation made a pleasant change of pace from abject misery, you know? Soon, Inky was showing great improvement, and I started to let my hair down a bit, reassured that we’d be discharged as soon as she completed a full course of antibiotics. So, one afternoon, I was chatting with this younger nurse whom I really liked and I started busting on the mean nurse, saying that I thought she should be fired because of her lack of bedside manners. I’d expected the younger nurse to side with me, because nobody likes a bitchy coworker, right? But instead, she said, “Yes, I know the parents have problems with her, but from a technical standpoint, she is the best nurse on the unit. I really respect her medical knowledge. She’s an excellent nurse. Believe me, no one is equipped to give your baby better care.” Touche!

   After that, I started being a little nicer to the mean nurse, who in turn started becoming less mean and more mother-hen-like, telling me to take a shower and shaking her head, laughing, over my determination to institute The Family Bed. I guess I was reminded of Nurse N. when you brought up “Space Monkey”. She got a big bang out of how I called that final IV Inky’s “antenna”. On the day that we left, she told me to come back and visit. She said that she probably wouldn’t remember my name, but that if I said the word “antenna”, she would know who I was. So… that was a very long anecdote to say, be nice to the nurses, and remember that they’re people too, with lives outside your personal hell. Just as sometimes, some of them need to be reminded that their job is being carried out on the battlegrounds of someone else’s worst nightmare.

   I should add that when I floated the 3 pieces of advice I’m giving here past Greg, he took issue with this one. I’m a “catch more flies with honey” type, but he says that the overwhelming evidence is that “the squeaky wheel gets the grease.”

3. Carry a pad of paper and a pen with you everywhere. Be ready to jot down the essentials when a doctor rushes through an unfamiliar litany of tests, diagnostic information or treatment plans. You’ll also have a place to record some of your tumultuous emotions, or to describe the events of birth, which slip so easily from memory if the grisly specifics aren’t recorded within that first week or so. Select one of the many friends and family members who are aching to do something nice for you to buy you a nice hardbound journal, not some flimsy, spiral-bound memo bad that’ll go all to tatters and eventually disappear amid the household flotsam. This is a document you’ll want to hang onto. Try to snag a copy of the medical records from this period now. They’ll come in handy if your pediatrician has need of a complete medical history further on down the line.

As a special added bonus, here are 3 tips for friends and family members of parents who find themselves in the NICU. I reckon this advice might even hold water around parents of older kids who wind up in the hospital for an extended stay.

1. Don’t call asking for an update every couple of hours. That jangling phone really stressed me out after awhile, especially if there was no news on my end, or no good news, or news that was sure to blow the caller’s cool. (Most grandmas freak at the very mention of “spinal tap”.) If you are going to explode if you don’t call at least once a day, make it brief. Say something like, “I just wanted to let you know that we’re all thinking of you and we’re so excited to meet that amazing little baby.” If the new parent wants or needs to talk longer, he or she will let you know. Don’t take it personally if he or she needs to hang up right away. The doctor whose visit has been hotly anticipated all day might have just walked into the room, with all of 45 seconds to spare before proceeding onto the next patient.
2. In the age of the Internet , you could offer to set up a blog where other friends and family members could receive status reports and offer words of support. If it’s a situation where one parent is in the NICU with the baby round the clock and the other parent (if there is another parent) is not, offer to let the parent who’s not hospital-bound author the updates and either email them to you or plug them into the template you’ve set up. (This is one blog you won’t get a book contract out of, pal.) They might prefer for you to handle the whole shebang, filing reports after checking in by phone, or they might find it therapeutic to write some or all of it themselves.
3. Rather than asking a stressed out new parent whose brain is being fried in fifty different directions, “Is there anything I can do to help?” make concrete offers that can be fulfilled immediately. Still at a loss?
• If you have laundry that’s piling up, I could swing by this morning to pick it up, then drop it off tonight. I might even wash it! Ha ha!
• I was thinking maybe your (neglected) older child might like to have a sleepover with me on Saturday night. We’ll rent a movie and stay up late eating nothing but sugar.
• You know how I always say that I hate that filthy dog of yours? What I really mean is that I love him, and if you’d entrust his care to me, I can take over his care and feeding. I’m even prepared to pick up shit in a plastic bag, that’s how much I love you, I mean that filthy animal. If you don’t feel comfortable with that, I would be more than happy, nay, delighted, to pay for a professional dog minder for a week.
• I know you think hospital food is totally yummy, but I was hoping maybe you’d let me bring some sushi to the hospital at 5:00 – or wait, you tell me what time would work best for you. I shouldn’t bring any for the baby yet, should I?

Thank you Ayun, best of luck with the launch of your latest book. Come back to the Prattle for a book tour any time…

… um… clothes. Of some description.

I was at a friend’s daughter’s birthday party recently, which was held in a popular soft-play location. Lovely lady that she was, both my boys were invited, leaving me free to sip cappuccino and gossip while Akra Jr and Li’l Bhaji flung themselves into ballpits with abandon and courage rather than clinging to my leg and wanting me to come and play.

Half way through the party, I realised I could see Akra Jr on the big wavy blue slide, but Li’l Bhaji was nowhere to be seen. I wasn’t too worried – the play area was fully enclosed, he wasn’t likely to be far away from his brother and he wasn’t screaming at the top of his lungs – generally a good sign. I casually asked the table of mums and dads if anyone could spot where Li’l Bhaji was, while simultaneously remembering that he was quite short, the ballpit quite deep and I started scanning the ball surface for any fingertips waving folornly before slowly slipping under.

“Is that him? There? With the red shorts on? What’s he wearing?” One of the dads helpfully pointed to an obscure bit of the play area where a padded ceiling joist blocked my view.

My mind went blank. I had no memory whatsoever of what Li’l Bhaji was wearing that day. It hadn’t registered at all. This is not very clever, I realise. How was I going to provide a description for the police to read out on the Six O’Clock News?! “And Li’l Bhaji Naan was last seen at the soft play place wearing a blue t-shirt and black shorts… if anyone has any information please could they call our hotline”. What sort of mother was I, not being able to remember what my kids were wearing? Fortunately, I spotted him shortly afterwards (green t-shirt and blue shorts, for the record).

In my defence, I don’t dress either child, so there’s limited time for their clothing to make an impression. Akra Jr dresses himself in the mornings and has done for some time. Akra generally gets Li’l Bhaji up, changes his nappy and picks the clothes out for him. As a result, they sometimes have odd clothing combinations (perhaps that’s why I can’t remember them – by mind blanks them out to protect itself!) but having a fairly utilitarian attitude towards children’s clothing, it doesn’t bother me too much.

I do wonder though, do most parents know what their children are wearing at any given moment? What about you, if you have kids, without looking round to see – what are they wearing today? Do you know? Is it just me who has a shorter memory span than the tropical fish I keep?

… I’d never have believed it.

Akra has put in an incredible amount of hard work this week and finally cleared the hell hole that was our garage.

The Conway Cruiser (folding camper for those who haven’t been following my beginner camping adventures) JUST fits in through the door and takes up most of the garage, but at least I can now park my car in front of the garage again!

Now on to planning our next adventure…

As a final word (until further developments at least) before I go pay my own children some attention again, I thought I’d do a brief round up of excellent blog postings and quotes from around the ‘net on the Gina Ford vs. Mumsnet issue. This list is in no way exhaustive, and I forgot to bookmark many excellent posts so if I’m missing a great one, I apologise. However, it should give some considered, well-written reading material on the case for those who are interested.

Second Child Syndrome: Gina Ford has a hissy fit – “Ford needs to sit on the naughty step and think about what she has done”.

Eeore’s Missing Link: Let Her Cry – “That is the point of the internet. It is a medium of instant and fleeting communication. Which is why the law is an arse.”

Blaise Grimes-Viort: Gina Ford vs Mumsnet – Flippettyflop – “Either there’s some frantic backtracking going on or I’ve finally lost my marbles and don’t understand English anymore.”

James O’Neill’s blog: Not technical for once – “WEB 2.0 recognizes an attack and fights back.”

The final one is not strictly a blog post, but an article by Justine Roberts (co-founder of mumsnet) in the Guardian – Keeping mum on the net – essential reading and as such deserves a much longer quote:

For now, though, MorningPaper, the rather admirable Mumsnetter who wrote the Lebanon comment, deserves the last word. She posted an apology on the site yesterday. It read: “I apologise profusely to any childcare guru that I may have offended by suggesting that they are involved in military action in Lebanon and to her followers for suggesting that she/they strap their babies to weapons of mass destruction.

“I have read her book many times and I can confirm that this IS NOT suggested as part of any childcare guru’s recommended routine.

“I apologise to any new mums who may have been confused by my post, and would advise that if you are considering utilising your baby in any sort of warfare or military conflict, please speak to your health visitor first.”

You have to laugh. Don’t you, Gina?

Today I’m commenting.

Over the last 24 hours, I have watched, listened and read many of the news reports surrounding the Gina Ford vs. Mumsnet fracas. What I find interesting is that many news outlets seem to be missing the main point and are turning this into a discussion of Ms Ford’s methods. So I thought I’d summarise the actual implications of this case to emphasise that this is not trivial and something we should ALL be watching very closely, parents and non-parents alike.

1. This is NOT about whether you agree or disagree with Gina Ford’s methods.

   As has been said before many times (to those who will listen), Mumsnet has as many Gina Ford devotees as it does detractors. This is partly the reason why so many robust debates have surfaced on the site – any negative opinion is fairly swiftly followed with a positive one and vice versa. Something blatantly untrue (whatever the debate) isn’t allowed to stand unchallenged for long on our message boards!

2. The issue is that in the UK, the Internet is treated as a newspaper or a magazine and as such the publisher is liable for any libel, not necessarily the author of the libellous comment. The worrying part of this case is that Mumsnet’s talk policy (which removes any potential libellous attacks the instant they are made aware of it) is thought not to protect it. The libel has still been published, for no matter how short a time, and as such damages are being sought.

   The implications are quite stark for any message board owner or blogger who does not pre-vet any comments published on their site. With Mumsnet receiving over 10,000 posts daily, it simply isn’t possible to pre-vet all comments before they are published – so does this mean that these sites cannot legally function in the UK?

   This issue alone is why I’m asking as many bloggers as possible to run with this story – particularly those who reside and publish their blogs in the UK. We need to get the law brought up to date with the technology as so many other countries (including the US) have done.

3. There is also an issue of freedom of speech.

   The legal requests have been completely disproportionate to the offence. Whereas Mumsnet’s talk policy has meant that any offensive post has been removed as soon as they have been made aware of it, the lawyers have demanded whole threads to be removed instead, effectively silencing up to 350 posters voices and opinions when only 1 post has been potentially defamatory.

   They have also declared posts to be defamatory on a seemingly spurious basis – the quote most often used in the popular press yesterday is fairly obviously meant to be satire and not to be taken seriously even OUT of context (by the way, in context it was even funnier and could actually be argued to be defending Ms Ford as it was parodying previous debates and how silly they had become).

   The end result is, that one side of the debate (the negative side) has been consistently demanded to be removed. As we know, a one-sided debate is no debate at all.

4. I also think it should be made clear that the legal threats have not been aimed at Mumsnet the limited company (with all the protections that bestows) but the individual owners of Mumsnet. It is THEIR homes at risk, their families at threat if they are made bankrupt by huge damages claims, through something they have no realistic control over.

   Do you think that many sites will fight in the courts even if they are in the right with that risk? Two of the owners have just had babies – you can imagine their stress levels at the moment. This effectively becomes justice for the rich – those with the deepest pockets wins.

5. Ms Ford’s lawyers have recently issued a statement to say that she was not trying to close the website down. I would ask you to read again the letter they sent to Mumsnet’s hosting company and decide for yourself.

Apologies for the lengthy post, but I wanted to set the record straight and clarify why this is so important. Please, if you’re a blogger, particularly if you live in the UK, please run with this story. Let’s get awareness up and the law changed.

UPDATE: Gina Ford’s recent statement in full with Mumsnet’s response following.

Further to yesterday’s post, one or two headlines this morning you may be interested in:

Times: Childcare guru goes to war over website
Daily Mail: The baby guru who threw her bottle out of the pram
Independant: Mothers’ website falls foul of Queen of Routine
Guardian: Childcare expert threatens to have website shut down
Telegraph: Baby expert stamps her foot at website chat

Also has been reported on the Today programme in the ‘What the Papers Say’ segment this morning (about 13 minutes in), and apparently it’s even reached the Gulf Times (the daily paper in Qatar).

There has been a petition set up to ask for an update in libel laws to reflect modern internet and message board usage in line with similar protective laws in the US.

Will update with more as I find them.

Again, no comment except to say, remember the adage about a woman scorned? Well, 60,000 women are currently a bit pissed off…

Update: okay, I’m losing track of where it’s getting aired now, but it’s fair to say interest is exploding. Currently airing on various talk shows including Jeremy Vine (Radio 2), Five Live (Radio 5) and TV news on Channel 4 and ITV1.

Mumsnet has recently issued an important statement regarding their position about Gina Ford and her methods being discussed on their parenting boards.

I don’t want to say too much here (for reasons which will become clear if you click on the link) but I do want to say how much Mumsnet‘s message boards have helped over the years – they have stopped me feeling isolated, provided invaluable advice, made me laugh and cry, and most importantly given me an incredible sense of connection to parents from many different walks of life despite lots of differing opinions and parenting styles. Its closure would be a huge unnecessary loss in my opinion.

I will now be removing all references to Gina Ford from this site, despite previously being a fan of her routines. I apologise for the backwards editing – I don’t usually like removing things I have written, even if my opinions change along the way.

As an aside, does anyone spot the irony that a parenting expert is asking not to be discussed on parenting websites?

Update: looks like The Bad Mother’s Club are also having issues.

Update 2: James O’Brien on LBC has apparently just interviewed Justine (co-founder of Mumsnet) on the show. I’m hoping it’ll get added to the podcast so I can hear it. Apparently highlighted the issue in the UK that free speech is actually only available to the rich.

Some random thoughts after our first weekend away in our “new” folding camper:

• We need to find better ways of dealing with the children during stress points – setting up, packing up and bedtimes. Would be interested to know how other parent campers get around this.
• It is probably unrealistic to expect young children to fall asleep much before sunset and to wake much after sunrise.
• Apologies to those campers in Bracelands this weekend who were woken at 5.30am to the sounds of squealing excited boys. We did attempt to get them away from the site and on a walk as fast as humanly possible so you could return to your slumber.
• Would highly recommend a Forestry Commission campsite. Great facilities kept clean and in good condition, lovely surroundings and friendly wardens.



• It’s amazing how much time flies by just pootling about getting meals cooked, leisurely washing up, strolling around the neighbourhood, kicking a ball around. Plenty of time to relax without being able to do chores or fritter time on the internet.
• CHEAP! Family of four, two nights, height of summer holidays – £28.
• I ROCK at Scrabble!
• There’s not many evenings that beat sitting outside with a glass of red wine in hand, watching the most beautiful sunset over the Wye Valley without a care in the world.
• When can we go again?!

Yes, I realise that it’s not even the end of the second week, and there’s still lots of school holiday left to go, but I’ve had enough. Can the school open up a bit early, please?

We’re out of the first enthusiastic week, where the boys were excited by the new freedoms, the novelty of being able to play together all the time and the potential of lots of exciting things to come. I had lots of plans for interesting activities, people to see and places to go. It was going to be a great summer.

However, this week, the novelty of being together has already worn off. Akra Jr and Li’l Bhaji have been bickering constantly all week with Li’l Bhaji perfecting a particularly high pitched blood-curdling scream should Akra Jr dare to pick up a toy that Li’l Bhaji has suddenly decided he wants after all. I’ve run out of activities already.

All this is compounded by Li’l Bhaji not taking a nap anymore. Akra Jr is having to adjust to not having that time in the middle of the day where he can play a board game with me or get his K’Nex down from upstairs. I’m having to adjust to not having some down time in the middle of the day to recharge.

At best, I parent in attention “bursts” with small activities with the children between getting chores done and sitting down with a nice cup of tea. Now I’m finding I have even less interest in the short burst times with them and I’m bone-numbingly tired with having them around all the time.

Frankly, I’m a pretty poor example of motherhood right now and my guilty feelings weren’t helped when an Oprah newsletter dropped into my inbox extolling the virtues of quality family time during the summer holidays. Gee, thanks Oprah.

I was chatting to Lisa about it all during a brief respite where I’d given up and stuck a Toy Story DVD on and she’d given up and stuck Cbeebies on. She lamented that although the break was nice, the extra television would mean poor sleep later as Maggie wouldn’t burn off enough energy during the day. While empathising, I idly wondered if there would be a market for a toddler-sized hamster ball or maybe a Swingball conversion so the kids could run safely round the garden in circles. Surely a device like that would bound to be an overnight commercial hit?

Still, tomorrow is Li’l Bhaji’s nursery day and Akra Jr has a party to go to in the afternoon. Maybe the time apart will be enough to restore some brotherly love and (if I can persuade Akra Jr to let me leave him at the party for the first time ever) maybe a small parcel of motherly sanity.

I’m not saying that I had a particularly traumatic potty training experience with Akra Jr – it’s just that I wasn’t in any rush to repeat the ordeal anytime soon, opting to think about training Li’l Bhaji when he was nearer to 3 or at least showing heavy enthusiasm for training himself without any intervention from me.

That was the plan. Only problem is, I didn’t actually factor in the “second child” factor.

Yes, Li’l Bhaji thinks Akra Jr going to the toilet is absolutely fascinating and has taken to demanding to be sat on the toilet too. At least he seems to be skipping the whole plastic portable cesspit (aka potties) and going straight to the proper receptacle – Akra Jr was terrified of sitting on a proper loo for months after he was “trained” and I had to drag that damn potty with me everywhere. I still can’t quite muster enough enthusiasm for the task ahead, though, no matter how keen my poor little boy is – he wasn’t allowed to be even considering this grown-up skill for at least another year, damnit.

So, I’ve bought him pull ups (yes, I know they’re not the best for potty training, that they can delay them being dry – but that’s kind of the point – I want to slow this down!) so at least he can try if he feels like it or treat them like a normal nappy if he doesn’t. We’ve bought integral child loo seats to make using the toilet easier for him (and cleaning minimal for me), but true to our apathy we haven’t got around to fitting them yet.

I just wish I could find a reliable way to put him off for six months or so – do you think putting barbed wire around the toilet would be a bit over the top?!