It’s that time isn’t it? Your child is rapidly approaching the age of three. Pre-school looms on the horizon like the gallows but instead of nooses hanging down there are brightly coloured potties and pants with monster trucks and dinosaurs dangling tauntingly as the bells chime… Other children at toddler groups, younger than yours have suddenly got much smaller bums. Time is running out.
I may have been lulled into a false sense of security by my eldest picking up half decent toilet habits within a couple of weeks of turning three. I never had to deal with a ‘code brown’ on the sofa, or a slow painful transition into and then out of ‘pull ups’ (essentially the equivalent of taking a broken leg out of a stiff cast and winding it up in ten layers of bubble wrap – I’m an all or nothing kind of girl).