We have finally cracked it – Eliza is toilet trained!
We first attempted toilet training this time last year and it was soon very clear that she was not ready. We have been trying every couple of months since then and I was starting to despair that she just didn’t understand the feeling of needing to use the toilet.
Just before Easter we attempted toilet training again. We had 3 days of no success but I was determined not to give up. When she finally managed that first wee on the toilet something just clicked and she has been brilliant. We have had a few accidents but dry days now outweigh wet ones. We did give in and had to go out for emergency nappy supplies at Butlins though, as there was far too much going on for her to concentrate on knowing when she needed the toilet.
Toilet training is keeping me fit too. She refuses to use the downstairs toilet – I think because she has a plastic toilet seat that’s cold, whereas upstairs she has a nice padded one. I did try to swap them over but sadly the padded one doesn’t fit the downstairs loo.
What worked for us:
- Fabulous knickers. She demanded Disney Princess ones and is determined not to get them wet.
- Sticker chart – we started off with a sticker for every attempt, but have now decided a sticker for every dry day is enough. She is saving stickers for a My Little Pony
- Praise, praise and more praise
- Not shouting if she has an accident. I take plenty of clothes out with us on a day out just in case.
Just to counteract one success we are having issues of another kind.
From nowhere she seems to have turned into a wailing banshee!
The witching hour has become a running joke in our house because by 5pm the younger kids are in meltdown because they are tired, but she has suddenly started taking it to a whole new level.
From the moment she gets up she screeches as soon as something doesn’t go her way. It is no longer a whine or a whinge, but a scream that penetrates every bone of your body and nothing we do will make her stop. I got lots of sympathetic looks in the middle of Sainsbury’s last week when she went into meltdown because I said the dreaded “N” word. By all accounts she is an angel at pre-school so she just does it at home.
I remember the boys having tantrums but not the screeching and I am starting to feel sorry for our neighbours. Is it a girl thing?