The view from the cell

Perhaps the title is a little melodramatic? But this is the view from our back garden today. A glorious, crisp winter day. There is frost everywhere that the sun has yet to touch. The air is clear and inviting. It is the perfect day for a walk.

Yet I am stuck indoors potty training the Little One. It is not going well. I started writing this post at 11.30 this morning and we were onto the ninth pair of pants by then. We are still averaging a new pair every half hour (we have given up on trousers, and besides - there are no clean, dry ones left). I stopped counting once we got past ten.

Who is the person who said now was the time to start? Me. Who said he was ready? I did. Who said he's such a clever little fellow and he's ticking all the boxes of the 'is he ready' list? Yes, that would be me too. We are on day three of potty training and still there is no sign of any moisture of any sort in any potty. I'm surprised the spiders haven't set up home in them yet. I can't go outside, or change my mind. I have to keep plodding on so he knows there's no way out. But he's stubborn. And I'm FED UP!

PS In my defence, I have been remarkably good natured, patient and kind about it all up to this point. But there is only so much goodness in a parent and mine seems to have gone in the wash along with twelve pairs of pants and every pair of trousers the Little One owns. I think my marbles might be in there too.