Thursday, 14 February 2013

The last hurrah

Ok, this is where it gets serious. I've signed up for the Michelle Bridges 12 week body transformation program, and I'm determined to ditch the extra kilos. Enough is enough! Loads to tell already, but before I get started on those stories, I think I'd better confess....

The 12 weeks started on Monday and I've been counting every calorie and following the exercise plan to the letter. But last week was...not so good.

You know what it's like, right? You are about to make a change and all of a sudden it seems like this may well be the last time you ever get to eat, say, a whole tub of ice cream. So you don't want to waste that, do you? It seems wrong not to honour all the good times that you and the ice cream have had with one last precious night together. For me, ice cream didn't actually come into the picture (damn - why didn't I think of that?!) but Tim Tams, Anzac biscuits, and half a chocolate cake certainly did. 

Not to mention the Creme Eggs. I love these little guys. You're cruising around the supermarket or stopping to grab a newspaper and there they are, staring up at you from the counter as if to say "Hey there, had a tough day? Want a little pick me up?" It's not as bad as eating a full sized chocolate bar. And it's not too expensive, either. Suddenly it seems like it would be silly not to buy one! So you do, and you are rewarded with a great big mouthful of gooey heaven.

It was while I was chatting to a friend about these very eggs that I came to a shocking realisation. When Easter rolls around this year I will be - gulp - dieting. Disaster!! And it's not just a one-day or one-weekend chocolate fest that I'll be missing out on. Because these days the Easter goodies are crammed onto the shelves before the Christmas food has even left the clearance racks. Now, every year people moan and groan about this ("What has the world come to?! We just had Christmas!" etc etc) But the reality is that stores stock this stuff in January because people buy it. And I am those people. Let's face it, the stores just want to make money however they can. And I for one say "Hoorah for capitalism!" (PS - I am also the person across the store at the Christmas clearance rack stocking up on half price pudding).

But there are more important things in life than chocolate. And being my old, slim self again is one of them. Having the energy to keep up with my kids is another. So farewell Creme Eggs (for now). I'll always remember our time together. And maybe I'll see you again one day. But not for the next 12 weeks!

Friday, 1 February 2013

Down the drain

Oh, the shame of it all! Three weeks into toilet training MM and she is - I can hardly bear to admit it - back in nappies.

I tried. I really tried. I read the "3 day potty training" e-book. I bought a cute little potty with turtles on it. I took MM to buy some underpants and got all excited about her being a "big girl", ignoring the fact that she was alternating between staring blankly and completely ignoring me.

And I did my research! I read books! I searched online! I came up with what I thought was the best of the best - the gems from each of the things I'd read, trimmed of all the nonsense. Sticker charts? Bah! I don't need that! And the "potty dance" that one expert suggested? Well, that was just ludicrous. Those poor mothers, I thought, lowering themselves to the level of silly dances and bribery. MM is a clever little one - I figured I'd just explain what she needed to do and she'd get it. Besides, my friends in mothers group had tried it and their kids were all trained now - no worries! How hard can it be?

It's clear now that potty training falls squarely in the category of "judge not lest ye be judged"...or "don't judge until you've walked a mile in another's shoes"... or another one of those preachy sayings. Five days in and I was doing the fricking potty dance. And covering MM with stickers. And trying not to show my desperation as I pleaded with her to come to the loo instead of wetting herself...AGAIN!

Here is the main thing that I didn't know about toilet training: just because the kid knows how to use the toilet, doesn't mean they will. Teaching her what to do was the easy part. Convincing her to keep doing it now that the novelty has worn off? Impossible!

Let's face it - nappies are pretty handy. You're hanging out, playing with your teddy, the urge strikes and - bam - off you go. A few seconds later and you're back to putting teddy to bed in his cardboard box and life carries on as before. But hang on - now here's mum dancing around waving stickers saying that I have to leave my game and go off with her for that whole toilet palaver? Joke's on you mum - it's not happening!

And the experts say that any force, anger, frustration, or punishment will just set the whole process back even further. So you simply smile, say "oopsie!", and calmly clean up the sixth wee of the day - which she did in the lounge room just after assuring you that she absolutely did not have to go. Then off you go to the toilet to go through the whole routine anyway just to drive the message home about where wee belongs. Nappies were starting to look pretty good from my angle too.

On one such trip to the toilet, around day 16, I let the forbidden word pass my lips. "Sweetie, would you like to put on...a nappy?" "Nappy, nappy, nappy!!!" she said, and immediately ran off to get one.

But we will try again. When I'm ready. It's not like she'll be going to uni in one. I assume she'll be taking her bottle though. But that's another story.