Before I had a baby, the main contact I had with children was vicariously through the clones of child obsessed mothers at work.

These clones of child obsessed mothers have only one topic of conversation ... their children.  From the minute they conceive a little switch flips in their head that blocks out all other thoughts but that of the child and pregnancy.

Husbands and boyfriends turn into annoyances who serve no purpose other than to be a hindrance and are constantly complained about for "not helping out", "not understanding their needs" or heaven forbid "wanting sex!"

Any conversation about the evening or weekend turns into a list of achievements for their little darlings at ballet, football or school, or showing off about  how many parties they have attended.

New recruits come in the form of unsuspecting expectant mothers who proudly announce their joyful news.  The clones of child obsessed mothers flock round the victim to turn them into a clone as quickly as they can. The victim is bamboozled with a series of questions ...

How many weeks are you?
When are you due?
Was it planned?
How long were you trying?

The victim (soon to be cloned into a child obsessed mother) can not help but be flattered by the attention, and enjoy being a membed of this popular club.  It is easy to get sucked in as an expectant mother.  So much is happening to your body, life will never be the same again, it is good to have someone to talk to who has been through if before.

Some dads form their own child obsessed fathers club.  I overheard one last week showing off to an expectant father about the performance of his newborns poo.  He enthusiastically explained about the contence of his sons nappy from birth to present age of 6 months, including how the nappies leak, and how far up the babies back the poo travels.

These conversations are facinating for parents, however mean nothing to single folk, and must be depressing for anyone desperate for a baby but not fortunate to have one.

I try hard to resist the charms of the child obsessed mothers, doing my best to remember what it was like before i became a clone.  I don't want every conversation i have to be about Little E.  I am more than just a mother, i have a social life, a fabulous boyfriend, hobbies and crazy neighbours to talk about.

I would love to pretend that i am the perfect role model of a working mother, however i fail most days.  Sometimes all i want to do is talk about Little E, what he said, what he ate, i even read out texts from the childminder telling me how long he slept for and if he snored!  I make excuses to myself that it is not my fault.  People should be honest and tell me i'm boring, but they don't.  I get encouraging noises and requests to bring Little E  into work to meet everyone.

Maybe it is time i was honest with myself, and admitted that i am a fully fledged signed up member of the group of child obsessed mothers, however i think i i will resist just a little bit longer if i can and keep living the lie.

The Daddy showed Little E how to wee wee standing up yesterday.  We have been encouraging Little E to wee wee on his potty for some weeks.  Little E always seems very enthusiastic, runs and mounts his potty as though it were a horse, sits down for no more than 2 seconds and then runs off to wee wee on the floor.

 

Little E's reaction to the Daddy wee wee standing up demonstration was "wa-owww!!!" followed by lots of laughing.

 

This gave us some hope that Little E now understood what he should be doing and would enjoy sitting on his potty to wee wee.

 

The next night, in the bathroom.  Little E was ready to get out of the bath. 

 

The Mummy ... "Little E would you like to get out of the bath and do a wee wee on your potty?"

 

Little E, climbing out of the bath with great effort ... "Yeh. Yeh. Wee wee"

 

The Mummy helped Little E out of the bath.

Little E ran over to the Potty, mounted it, sat for 2 seconds.  Stood up, moved less than one foot.  Grabbed his willy saying "wee wee" and wee'd on the floor!

 

Little E seemed so pleased with himself, he tried to do more wee wee.  By the time his bladder was empty the Mummy had 2 puddles to clean up, and Little E was quickly dunked in the bath with the Daddy for a final once over.

 

The Daddy ... "Little E did you do a wee wee on the floor?"

Little E ... "Yes, dhat" (Pointing to the puddles, very proud of himself)

The Daddy ... "Very good, however try in the potty next time"

Little E ... "Yes, wee wee dhat"

 

In order to prevent too many more puddles on the floor I suggested that the Daddy should do another demonstration of wee wee, only this time wee wee into the potty.  The Daddy was not too impressed with this, saying it would be too weird.  I think he may be right!

 

 

The best Mummy moments are made of this ...

Hot sunny weather.
Driving with the windows down.
Listening to Little E giggling in the back as the wind blows the magazine he's holding up and down, to and fro.

Last night Little E stayed up late partying in his cot.  Over the monitor we heard lots of singing ("ba ba black sheep" and "Twinkle twinkle"), chatting ("where's teddy gone?","What is that?"), Animal noises, and bouncing.  I was impressed that he is so able to bounce so much in his gro-bag, however we did hear the occasional bang as he crashed against the side of the cot.

 

All was revealed this morning, when I went to wake him up only to find him looking rather pleased with himself, holding his toe-toes and telling me that he had undone the zip himself!  The conversation went a little like this ...

 

The Mummy ... "did you undo the zip all by yourself?"

Little E ... "Yes, zip zip"

The Mummy ... "Clever Boy"

 

Aside from being impressed as any Mummy is when their baby does something for the first time, I was also filled with the realisation that this was the beginning of the end.

 

The beginning of the end of quite adult filled evenings, whilst Little E is happy to play in his cot for up to an hour before falling asleep.

 

The beginning of the end of undisturbed, sleep filled nights.

 

Soon Little E will have mastered the art of removing the gro-bag, climbed out of his cot, opened his bedroom door (something he has been able to do for several months), and get up to lots of mischief.

 

I confided in the childminder, partly to show off how clever Little E is, and partly to see what advise she gave.  The baby brain must be very deep routed, cause she stated the blindingly obvious that she always hides the zipper puller behind the safety popper.  A function on the gro-bag that is designed to prevent the very occurrence I was worried about.

 

So tonight, I will show Little E that the Mummy will tuck the zip away, and we will have no more escaping (fingers crossed)!!!