I don't want to boast or anything, but....
MORE WEE IN THE POTTY TODAY! (From Boy #2 that is, not me. I'm not wee'ing in the potty so I can tell you that there was wee and not be specific about who put it there. That would be sick...)
So yes, rejoice! The pull-up nappies are in use, the sanitising wipes are installed in the bathroom to regularly clean out said potty, and... What? Why the wipes? Well, I said there was wee in the potty. It is also visited on a regular basis by comfort blankets, cars, trains, the occassional book, and even the odd flannel thrown out of the bath in a rage (or to wind up mummy. But that's another post). So the wipes are used after the wee has been disposed of to ensure things don't get even smellier and more disgusting than they naturally are with two boys in the house and a mummy who's contact lens prescription probably needs updating...
But stop. Calm down, Potty Mummy. I think this may have been yet another triumph of timing, and that my beloved Boy #2 has just been lucky in producing the goods 2 nights in 3. Why? Because of the following comment, said in wonder-struck tone as he sat on the potty:
"Loooook! It's. Coming. Oooouuuut!"
Celebrating too soon, do you think?
Still, Boy #1 and I high-fived each other anyway. And if you're asking why he cares, well, for pity's sake, isn't it obvious? He has to share a bath with his younger brother...
In other news...
The birthday party season is well upon us. After spending Sunday morning at one celebration in Gambado on Chelsea Wharf, and Sunday afternoon at another in Kensington, I had only one thought on Sunday evening.
I need a flotation tank.
I've never been in one, you understand, but the thought of complete silence along with an absence of; flashing lights; rushing, shouty and hysterical children; fatty salt and sugar rich snacks; and party bags, is strangely appealing.
And yes, I know that the parties are not about me, that the children love them, and that before I know it they will have grown through the stage when my presence is not just expected but wanted. Which is why, although I invariably sit in my car muttering "Never again. Not ever. No, never again" like a madwoman as I drive away from Gambado, the boys will keep going and I will keep taking them.
Besides, in my current existence, when else do I get to have grown up conversation and cake at the same time?