There was a stand off this morning – and, as usual, I came off worse. You see, my youngest twin daughter may only have been on this planet for a grand total of 28 months but she has an ego Mariah Carey would be envious of. From refusing the pick up her own teddy that she just dropped, to wanting you to hold her straw whilst she sips to only sleeping with the grey heart pillow and pink cellular blanket – it’s safe to say, she’s a bit of a madam!
Our eyes locked in the middle of the lounge and in that moment, no words were needed – her eyes said it all:
“You’re expecting me to sh*t in that plastic thing. In the middle of the living room. Interrupting Mister Maker? PUR-LEASE MOTHER”
I sighed as the familiar whiff of cack wafted under my nose as I knew yet again, she had won and refused to use her potty favouring Aldi’s finest pull ups. I know she knows that she needs a wee or a poo – she even tells me but when it comes to actually performing it’s a big old no show.
I genuinely think this little lady will not poo on plastic. She thinks she needs a gold plated porcelain throne poo castle to do her business, preferably with multiple TV screens showing an array of CBeebies finest whilst someone fans her and feeds her grapes as she goes about her business. She definitely thinks that doing the deed with a) an audience b) on a cheap basic IKEA potty c) for a round of applause is beneath her; and Lady Muck (the irony) is going to prolong this toilet training malarkey for as long as humanly possible as she literally wants someone to wipe her backside for her.
From our 13 week scan twin 2 as she was then known gained a reputation as a wild one. From never staying still for measuring, to giving me multiple frights when refusing to comply with heartbeat monitoring to the quite unbelievable moment we saw her lying her feet over her sisters head on the sonogram! Yep, she was always going to be a monkey.She almost got me blacklisted in the pregnancy day unit as a 5 minute trace used to take up to 2 hours with all her jiggling and wiggling around!
Despite the diva behaviour she’s actually bloody hilarious. With her break dancing, loud singing of Frozen songs, breaking into my make up bag, cheeky glint in her eye as she gives you ‘the look’ and the endless cuddles – she may be a little toad but she’s such a character.
But now, how do I go about sourcing a potty fit for a Queen with a private screening area and treats galore? Hmmm. If ever we do crack it she is going to have a right shock when she goes to nursery and sees the state of those bogs – grim!