After two days of riding to work, catching the train felt harder. It was a weirdly balmy day, end-to-end. The train home wasn't too packed: there was a 2-week old baby mewling near us while Milla commandeered a seat and ate cheese and crackers. But the big win was that I only had a tiny bag of soiled goods to cart home: one change of undies. We got home and went to bathroom together. Two more wees and poo and no, as they say, 'accidents'.
No Charlie this week and houseguest out late. It's been Mum n Milla. She's tired, clever and gorgeous.
Not dead yet. Day two of three. Not particularly encouraged. Not giving up. We did have more 'wins' today than yesterday. Less undies washed, no poos in undies, a few big wees in potty and poo in toilet. High fives and olives as a reward. She didn't sleep, howled in cot for an hour instead, while I took a turn outdoors, which felt miraculous. House arrest.
Only four hours in. Listening to Milla howl from bed. She was really exhausted by morning one of toilet training. As am I. She's on undies #5 and likely wee-d in bed now.
We drilled her on the idea, she was on board. This morning when she came into bed I said "it's undies day" and she replied "no more nappies".
One big wee in the potty was the highlight of the morning. It followed her wee-ing on my lap and being in between undies. She took herself to potty in bathroom and filled it, coming out to kitchen declaring "I did it!".
First blossoms on our Silver Princess.
She also wee-d in bed when I'd just put new sheet on, wee'd on my slipper as she tried to see saw and a big wee at the door of her tipi.
She's exhausted, we've just started. We have the weekend and Anzac Monday to get this. Tuesday then marks day #1 of moving into the toddler room at childcare, hoping this will help not hinder the #ttod project.
These days. A barista told Milla she was too big for the stroller. She talked about the truck and its engine, dazzling Charlie when he asked about her day. This week, screaming after going to bed, and crying upon waking "mummy, mummy", not a name I'm known by.
Picked up from childcare today and she had a baby doll in arms and a carrier sling. Apparently needed her hands free to go to the shops. Wanted to walk to station, howled down Elizabeth Street, strapped in stroller.
Says "tiny" in the cutest way. Scrunches up her nose in a gesture of negativity, hard to explain. Loves going under bridges, loves circles, loves sitting at her desk and drawing on an already full page. Drinks her milk from an open cup, seated on couch, usually 7:30pm.