Why I know nothing about potty training

Potty training was always something I feared; I simply decided that for a child with a learning disability it was worth waiting for her to be older and have a better level of understanding before even attempting such a task… but also I hoped she might just magically figure it out for herself.

Before she was two, Audrey started to shuffle off to corners of the room to poo in her nappy. She often signed for a nappy change. We were attending Whoopsadaisy around this time and Audrey was learning to stand and walk, they encouraged sitting on the potty and subscribed to a different method to me – get them on the potty early and chance a pee here and there, hopefully she’ll get the idea. Well she did a wee on the potty a couple of times by chance, but it didn’t make sense to me work at it so early on.

I guess found it odd to encourage a child that couldn’t walk or stand to use a potty and once she was two and a half, Rex was born and the last thing I wanted to do was potty train! A discussion with a helpful health visitor made me feel better about that – she said “do not try to potty train whilst dealing with a newborn”. So I didn’t.

Time went by. Pull up nappies were used, potty books were read… it felt like we had so much time (since we deferred Audrey’s school start). Yet she started school in nappies.

We had many wee successes, but she was wasn’t consistent. I knew she didn’t need to be in a nappy all day because she could go hours without a wee, but I wasn’t convinced she actually knew when she needed a wee. I had some discussions with healthcare professionals about her being constipated quite a lot and they said this could mean she feels “full” all the time and that it wouldn’t be as easy to identify needing a wee.

With little effort, it wasn’t long before we switched the pull ups to knickers because Audrey decided to hold her wee all day – she would just do a wee  in her nappy in the morning and a wee on the toilet at home before bedtime. Great that she was dry, but unhealthy and stressful for me (worrying about urinary tract infections!) and she also had a couple of accidents at school, wetting herself when falling over.

We’ve had the Christmas break and suddenly Audrey has been really getting it. Asking to go for a wee (even out about) in the morning and afternoon and successfully having a wee. Oh how we celebrated! She’s been back at school over a week and they’ve only seen one wee from her…! And so we are back to where we are started, but at least she is consistently dry.

Well, I have a second child. Did I mention? Ha. He is 3 next month. And… I know nothing about potty training!! Rex requested to wear big boy pants and I thought “Wow, it could be this easy, maybe I don’t need to actually do anything to potty train this one either…” – that was before 3 wee accidents and a quick return to nappies.

He does hide in a corner to poo (in his nappy!), he responds well to rewards, so we could be on our way, however he doesn’t seem to quite “get it” yet and the thought of wee every where just puts me off. Both are in nappies at night time. I thought that was fairly common, but after a chat here and there with other mums, I find many have nailed the night time training too by 3 or 4 years old.

Advice I have heard…

  1. “Don’t leave the house for a week.” Not an option. Rex is feral at home, we’d go mad.
  2. “Take in a potty about 10pm and put the sleepy child on for a nighttime wee.” This maybe in our future, BUT, Audrey is very sleepy and I’m not sure she would wake enough to wee, Rex is the opposite and I fear we’d wake him up and not get him back down.
  3. “Take them to the toilet every 15 minutes.” Well this is practical if we follow advice number 1. But if we want to live a normal life, going outside, doing things… I just don’t know how I would get Rex to the toilet that much.
  4. “Reward them with chocolate/a sticker for every successful toilet visit.” Ahh yes the bribe. This one is interesting as Audrey had a chocolate button for a wee for a while and Rex would get one too (or face his wrath!) and now it’s his turn, he doesn’t actually seem that fussed. I suspect that off the back of Christmas-let’s-have-chocolate-everyday he doesn’t feel he has to work for it.
  5. “Put pants on with a nappy over the top.” We did actually try this one with Audrey for a bit, but she didn’t seem to care that she was wet and she got sore. I think Rex would get confused by the double.
  6. “Let them run around with nothing on their bottom half.” A great one for summertime. Rex would gladly do this, but I’m also sure he’d wee everywhere!

Part of me feels like it really doesn’t matter once both my children “nail” this toileting malarkey, another part of me feels huge pressure to get them there. Both are really great (chatty!) communicators and they are both very aware of the process of toileting (we have an open door policy!), but I am lost in the world of potty training.

This could be the secret of course; do very little and the kids get it anyway. Fingers crossed.

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Audrey Starts School!

Audrey holding a picture of me at primary school

I’ve just dropped off a piece of me in a classroom with lots of people I don’t know. The little lady has started reception at primary school.

My daughter is friendly, kind and gentle. She loves imaginative play and reading books. She likes routine. I have no doubt that she will enjoy school, I’m just not sure how much I’ll enjoy her being there!

Anyone who knows me that I will cry at TV programmes, songs that come on the radio and a fleeting thought about someone’s sad situation, so it was a huge surprise that I didn’t cry today dropping Audrey off at her first day of school.

Several factors helped – school drop off is not a romantic, sound-tracked moment.; it’s carnage! We went as a family, with a child in a buggy and one on the loose, we battled through a crowd of legs and shouting and hugging and hellos and goodbyes to get to her class. Also, Audrey was very excited. She managed to (almost) walk all the way there (major achievement) and she jumped, sang and hugged her way down the road, she was genuinely happy to be going to school. It’s tricky to feel the true emotion of a momentous occasion when you are in it. It’s actually easier for me to be tearful anticipating it or reflecting on it.

And so, here I am in a cafe. Ted and Rex are off shopping (typical boys!) and Audrey is in her school classroom, with her teachers.

Of course I can’t help but reflect on 5 years with her. 10 months of maternity leave of just us, followed by a mix of us and nursery, us bump and nursery, us Rex and nursery… and now Audrey has her own thing, she is a schoolgirl!

“They” say it goes in a blink of an eye. I don’t know if  I feel quite like that, but I do feel immensely proud of Audrey and how far we have come from tiny baby on oxygen to confident 5 year old.

As I analyse my feelings, I can see what is creeping in… I felt it during maternity leave with Rex. She had her nursery days and we went to groups but I was suddenly a different mum, I was seemingly a mum of one typical child but that was not my whole identity. She is a part of me, a part of me that I am truly proud of and it can feel very strange to be out and about without her. What a mix of emotions this brings and a new chapter for us all – I have handed in my notice at work and plan to work on freelance writing. I am very lucky to have a supportive husband allowing me to take this leap and it also means that I can be there to drop off and pick up Audrey from school.

Happy September and good luck to everyone in their “firsts”, I love autumn and I’m feeling so very happy that its crisp and sunny outside and the leaves will soon be crunchy under our feet. My favourite time of year.

Alike, But Different.

On Wednesday night I woke around 1am to find myself being sick on and off through until 8am. It goes without saying that Thursday was not a great day for me. Thankfully Ted worked from home and my children offered me plastic cups of “medicine” and gave me hugs and kisses (that I should have fought off due to my potential contagiousness!), they also whined a lot and ran around arguing. Being ill as a grown-up with kids is the worst. The best time to be ill is when you are a kid and a parent looks after you.

Brighton Pride 2018

Anyway, I felt a lot better on Friday and we had a good day with the kids (some top secret modelling, but will share more about that at some point!), we took them to the park in the afternoon and met a lady with a 4 year old son who has special needs. We got chatting and we found ourselves in a position we’ve been in before – struggling to empathise with someone who thinks you can. She sees another “special needs family” and shares her story, but we feel, well, like we occupy a different space; Audrey isn’t “severely” special needs, but she’s not typical either. She sits in a space in between the two. I’m not denying Audrey has special needs, she definitely does and you only have to spend time with other 4-5 year olds to know that she is “different”. However we often find ourselves chatting to someone who is offloading about their child (with some form of special needs) constantly waking in the night, struggling to communicate, challenging behaviour, interacting with other children (hitting, tantrums)… for the most part I can only really apply some of these challenges to Rex!

This lady said she was surprised we had chosen to have another child after our first had special needs! Ha! How we laughed about that one on the way home. All children are hard work and of course, children with special needs present a different set of challenges, but Audrey made us feel very comfortable about doing it all again. Rex, however, well and truly scuppered plans for any more kids!

That evening I was very much looking forward to a decent sleep (as even Thursday night I was restless). As discussed with the lady in the park, Audrey is a good sleeper, but Rex sometimes shouts in his sleep.

Around 2am the dreaded sound of Audrey retching reached my ears – I was out of bed like a shot. There she was, sat upright, sick in her bed and bright and chatty “Sorry Mummy” she said as I wiped up the sick. And after vomiting in the bucket I held for her, “Phew! That’s a lot of sick!” She said, brushing her hair back.

She literally couldn’t get any better. After returning to bed and several more leaps back out to her aid with the bucket, I decided it would make more sense for Audrey and I to sleep in the spare bedroom together. So I scooped her up and laid next to her in the double bed, bucket at the ready.

As soon as I laid in the dark with her, I felt around to find her face and gently stroke it. She did exactly the same and stroked my face. She whispered that we were in “Uncle Graeme’s bed” (because he stayed in our spare room for a week during his chemo this year). She has a snotty nose at the moment, so within minutes she was asleep but snoring like, well, like her Uncle Graeme. I realised that I was really going to struggle to sleep, but do you know what? I strangely didn’t care. I could smell her sicky breath, but I could also feel her warm body right next to me and I felt so lucky to be her mummy. To be her protector.

In the morning I was awoken by many things (Audrey’s feet kicking me, the light coming through the half-closed blind, Rex thrashing about in his cot), but it was magical to wake to the sound of Rex saying “I want Audrey back!”.

Person-First Language is Important

I’m writing this to elaborate on a quick post I did on Instagram explaining/reiterating (I’m sure I’ve said it before) that Audrey is Audrey first; a child with Down’s syndrome second. So she is never a “Down’s kid” she isn’t a “Down’s syndrome girl” she is a child who happens to have Down’s syndrome. My little Instagram rant stemmed from the following…

I arrived for the open evening at Audrey’s school on a sunny summer’s evening, listening to Desert Island Discs, feeling excited about my little girl’s future in mainstream school.

I joined a queue to buy school uniform, chatted to some mums I had met before and gleaned information from these pros (with kids already attending the school) on what to expect.

I sat down clutching the welcome pack with Audrey’s name and class on the front and by chance sat behind the mother of one of Audrey’s nursery friends – (I could see the name and class on her welcome pack) and I could see they were in the same class. Everything was falling into place.

The teachers spoke at the front of the assembly hall and took us through the basics; uniform, PTA, after school club, forest school (so on trend). And then we all got up and filed into our specific classrooms to mingle and meet our child’s future teacher.

For some strange reason, I was quite focused on meeting Audrey’s teacher, but the thought of her 1:1 had barely crossed my mind… at least I thought it hadn’t, but I realise now I had already pictured her – in her 20s, enthusiastic, dedicated to children with special needs, passionate about it, a Makaton pro, a bit quirky.

So I guess it was a surprise to meet the lady who was older and not physically the picture I had in my head. And then, as surprisingly as she’d appeared; she made a bad impression. I asked about her experience and she told me how she had been working with a “Down’s boy” at the school and then she’d been at a special school a few miles away which had “loads of Down’s kids”. Outside I was smiling and nodding, inside I was crushed. How could this be someone passionate about people with Down’s syndrome? She doesn’t even know how to speak to me without offending me! She doesn’t understand person-first language. How can this person be the chosen 1:1 for Audrey? It made no sense.

I was awkward and made some comments about regretting not preparing with questions and I moved to the queue to meet the teacher.

The 1:1 popped up again, asking me about Makaton signing and why Audrey’s nursery had corrected her (she showed me the sign, I corrected her too). Such a minor “hiccup” you might think, but at this point I was getting anxious inside, imagining Audrey bonding with a woman who was seemingly getting everything wrong.

The thing is, people get person-first language wrong all the time and most of the time it doesn’t bother me that much. I don’t like to be pedantic (ok, I kind of do) but hey, I was made that way… in the same way that a cafe might list “sandwich’s” for sale and I will despair (but not run in asking them to correct the laminated menu), I despair a little over someone saying “a Down’s kid” but rarely take the time to correct them.

However. This was meeting a professional in a school. Someone who has clearly worked with children with Down’s syndrome for years and someone who has been employed to spend a lot of time with my daughter. So in this scenario, I should have said something, but because awkward conversations are not my thing, I ranted at other mums, had a rough night’s sleep, ranted a bit more to friends the next day and finally sent an email to the Head of Inclusion at the school to explain what happened.

What really gave me the confidence to write to the school, was the support I had from mum friends (those with typical children), who agreed this language was not on. They made me feel like I wasn’t over reacting.

This all happened last week and having had some time to calm myself and reflect, I had a meeting at the school this morning and I’m pleased to say I feel reassured that this was an unfortunate mistake and that they (the school) are more than versed in the correct language and will be ensuring all the teaching assistant are reminded of the correct terminology.

It was also helpful to hear that the 1:1 had come to the open evening off her own back because was excited to meet me, because she is excited to be Audrey’s teaching assistant. I can step back now and know that she does care, she will learn from this and that this bad experience can help the school, parents and teaching assistants learn something moving forward.

In fact I’m already discussing with another mum from the T21 crew (who was my immediate “What would she have done?” thought when I was faced with the dodgy language) a way of using this experience to create a “going to school pack” that can help schools and families learn from this dodgy experience.

Hopefully no one is reading this wondering what all the fuss is about, but if you are, then please just know that words are important. Audrey is so very precious to me and I want her to have the best start at school as she can possibly have and this begins and ends with her being treated as an individual.

Party time

The first time Audrey was invited to a birthday party (by a child who’s parents we didn’t know – a nursery friend), it was a real example of how she was accepted and liked by her “typical” peers. It was a big deal.

When we went to the party, we all had a good time overall but Audrey did show signs of being “different”. She wouldn’t eat (and the food on offer was the stuff of dreams: crisps, blueberries, chocolate cake, sausages…) and she asked to go home. She wasn’t crying, distressed or upset, she was just… uncomfortable.

We had a couple of other party invites and basically decided it was important to always get out of her comfort zone and see how she got on (rather than say no and miss out through fear). Again, we saw Audrey not eating (despite the selection of food being perfect), asking to go home or complaining it was too loud, but we never let it stop us trying, because she often enjoyed a little dance and she always left happy.

And then it happened- she ate at a noisy party. She joined in. She didn’t complain. We had a great time.

Now both our kids live for parties! (Because they love music, presents and cake).

So we were pumped last weekend to be offered a chance to go to Big Fish Little Fish at Stanmer Park for a – wait for it – family drum n bass/jungle afternoon rave. As we set off to drive up the road we realised that (yet again), we had left the kids’ ear defenders. We have them for events just like this and we literally never remember to take them, so the kids just have to make do and deal with the noise.

We arrived on a very sunny day to the amazing marquee of bubbles and play tunnels and a very loud sound system and I admit, I was a little worried. But Audrey (and Rex) bossed it. They came in, ran about exploring and got stuck in. Audrey showed a wobble initially when she had no interest in having some apple juice (funny this is a measure of how uncomfortable she is, but it is!), once she had settled she took a sip and I knew we were ok.

She showed enthusiasm for the face painter, again, something I shamefully would associate as something she “might not like because she has special needs”, but I knew she had dabbled a little at nursery and she seemed keen, so we queued up. When I sat her in the chair, the face painter asked me if Audrey had had her face painted before and she was just very considerate and gentle with her. Audrey was a really good girl and the face painter was so fast that before I knew it, I was looking at the most beautiful tiger in the world!

Aside from dancing, drinking juice, climbing through tunnels and rolling out play dough, there was also the fabulous outdoor space filled with “rustic” climbing frames and slides for the kids.

Audrey was unsuitably dressed for this in her fabulous Tootsa McGinty dress and Next tiger wellies, but oh how she surprised me with some supreme climbing! Rexy too (but it’s extra tough for Audrey with her low muscle tone).

As someone who regularly sticks to routine, taking the kids to the same groups/parks/cafes that I know “work” for us, it seems a little crazy to be saying this, but it’s good to step out of your comfort zone sometimes. Kids love routine and it can be hugely stressful if you do something new and they hate it or misbehave, but you’ll never know unless you try.

Last Sunday we went to see my Nan (the kids’ Great Grandma), which I thought would probably be stressful/chaos, but was actually great. She has just been moved to an old people’s home and she is almost 99 – Audrey’s middle name is Emily, after this nan. Emily lit up seeing Audrey and Rex, but so did all the other old people in the home, they looked so happy to have children running around, it was great. The kids loved the piano there (and made quite a bit of noise, but no one minded).

That same day, we were going to the seaside, the kids were excited (because, despite living by the sea we rarely go down there). I thought that would be a really fun activity, but instead, the sun disappeared as soon as we pulled up (literally, a weird sea fog arrived and the temperature dropped). We got down onto the sand and Audrey’s nose was running, the cold wind was blowing and no one was having any fun, we were all shivering. But at least we tried!

Next week are trying a new dance class at the marina. Watch this space!!

Let’s Talk About Rex, Baby


Typical kids. No exclamation mark, no tut or eye roll; I’m talking about “normal” children (what I would have called them before learning comfortable language for those of us with “special” children), they just “get on”. They just “do”. It’s amazing and annoying at the same time.

Before 6 months Rex was commando crawling, at 6 months he had mastered proper crawling. At 7 months he could pull to stand. At around 8 months he was cruising the furniture. At 9 months he could easily walk with a walker or even the lightweight toy buggy. At 10 months he took his first independent steps, said “Da Da” at his daddy and signed “milk” before bedtime.

At 10 months Audrey could roll, sit with support and er, not sure if she had mastered anything else by then… She was still in 3-6 months clothing bless her. Ahh, but she was sleeping through! Take that Rex!

I’m proud of both my children. In many ways I’m more proud of Audrey because everything she learns she learns after a lot of hard work. And so it feels like Rex is privileged somehow, which I know is ridiculous. But wow, his walking. He takes a few steps, we celebrate and then he keeps taking those steps. He needs no encouragement and there’s no complaining, because he wants to walk, he is good at it, so he likes doing it.

So here we are at the 12 month mark – Happy Birthday Rexy!

You walk. You’ve already fed yourself with a spoon, signed:

Milk

More

Blueberries

Banana

Audrey

Mummy

Daddy

Finished

Er, I think that’s it, but wow.

You’ve been a challenge (into EVERYTHING),  but you are a beautiful boy and I just know that once you stop pinching and hair pulling, you and Audrey will be best buds.

You can dance like a good ‘un.

You love tickles.

You’ve got 4 teeth on the top and 3 on the bottom.

Actually, you get a very sore bottom. I’m looking into creams… oh and you always play with your winky when I change your nappy… can you tell I’m embarrassing you on purpose now?

You have already hinted at tantrums (not something I’m used to), you don’t like giving up toys or sitting in a still buggy. You don’t like having your face wiped and you get frustrated by toys.

We love you Rex.

Typical challenges

It’s early to acknowledge this (given we only have 3 months of experience with a “typical” child), but I’ve started thinking about how different this journey is going to be in comparison to our experience with Audrey.

We’ve joked our house is Audrey-proof, but not child-proof. Audrey picks up things and hands them to us… “Daddy’s” she says, passing me some headphones, “Mummy’s juice” she says proudly, pointing at my glass of drink (not touching it). She is gentle, she is careful and she can barely reach/climb/have the strength to pull things over. Rex will be very different and it’s scaring me already. 

So funny to feel like parenting a “typical” baby is a pain in the bum. “He’s so sturdy!” we exclaim, with worried looks. “He’ll be an early walker” people tell us, and we exchange terrified glances. We are used to slow-mo growth; example – Rex is nearly 4 months old, he is wearing age 3-6 months (stands to reason) and Audrey wore these clothes around 10 months! It really puts into perspective how small she was. How small she is.

And with that we have an almost 3 year old who can’t walk. She started bum-shuffling at 18 months, all that time we had a “baby”. Rex is going to seem like a fast-forward monster child! I already call him chunk and he’s just a reasonable size, poor kid.

I say “poor kid”, but he’s still a real challenge, so it’s “poor us” really. He wakes a lot, still only sleeps well in the sling for daytime naps and can be generally unhappy just hanging out on his play mat. I am really banking on solids and sitting up changing him, I think he would prefer an upright view and he would enjoy some food, but God help us if that makes no difference! Eek.

I still recognise that people must think it’s nuts that I talk about our experience with Audrey as easy (Down’s Syndrome, oxygen canisters, tests and appointments and worries about her future…), but that Rex is hard. But no one has a baby expecting that much of your time together is stressful and he can make things stressful just being so whiny and needy. 

That aside, he is beautiful and he loves a laugh – I can already see that his sister is going to be such a great friend to him- he looks at her with love already and she makes him smile. They are fabulous children and one day Rexy, one day we will look back and laugh about how difficult you were!