Aloha, let's get lei-d,
Welcome to Poo Poo Island. A place infested with all manner of wipes, papers, pull ups and training pants. A scary place, where the bathroom floor must be mopped daily and finding poo on the carpet is a semi-regular occurrence. An atoll ruled by a small, very cute, almost-three-year-old tyrant child. A child who, when inquired "Don't you want to start using the toilet like Mummy and Daddy?" replies by screeching "NO! Not going to the toilet, ever, EVER!!".
Awesomeness. Sounds pleasant, doesn't it...? They assure me there is an escape plan in place. I'm thinking it has to do with a hatch and lotto numbers and Others. Or eating grubs and winning immunity and voting people off. Or something.
*Ahem* *cough* I'm having a hard time toilet training the Chop, can you tell...? I am toilet-training the un-toilet-trainable child. May the Gods of Poo Poo Island have mercy on us all. Any advice, practical or otherwise, will be greatly appreciated if not necessarily followed.
Anypoo. I got together with a few other mummies at this erm... picturesque... location recently, courtesy of Kleenex Mums, to discuss being a survivor of Poo Poo Island. You can view the whole thing here.
Or, if Poo Poo Island sounds terrible and you don't want to visit (why on Earth not, I ask...?), I've recorded a postcard. It's Postcard number three, under the groovy tropical video screen. I'm wearing my daggy grey cardigan. I really should've taken that off. it tells the true story of how the Man deals with stinky nappies when I'm not home.
I only wish I were joking.
Enjoy. Or.. something.
Anywee. I know some people can't watch these video thingies (sorry River). Don't worry, this isn't becoming a video blog. We return to regular programming tomorrow. Don't miss it. This post is...well.. electrifying. It demonstrates what happens when the Man goes all Tim the Tool Man Taylor on the household appliances.
And, I promise, whatever you're thinking.... that ain't it.
See you then!