- This morning, Sweeney was running around without his nappy on and announced "I want to go to the toilet". I nearly wept with joy, even though I was desperate to finish getting him dressed and out the door. He wanted to do it "all by myself", so I did a few other things while he busied himself with the toilet seat and so on. After a while I wandered in to find him sitting on the toilet, his seat beside him and a puddle on the floor in front of him. Gleeful cries of "I did it!". Seems he got tired of sitting on the toilet waiting for a wee to arrive, so he mixed things up a bit and let loose on the floor, then back to the toilet;
- I had to reschedule a couple of hours of work this afternoon, felt all cold-y, frightened it was going a bit flu-y. Came home, did a crossword, had a shower and a hot Panadol drink and felt almost normal again;
- Dinner felt nothing short of triumphant - more chicken soup and Sweeney helped me knock up a batch of cheesey scone pinwheels. He chatted away to me as we did the dishes, told me some stuff about his day and a few of the bods at preschool;
- He got into his pyjamas and we worked together to draw up this week's reward chart. I can't really believe the thing works, but it does. And it's spilling over into my habits also;
- He headed up to bed when I first mentioned it was time, played with today's favourite car for a bit and was happy with less than fifty stories before I came back downstairs in time to watch 30 Rock for the first time in ... a month, I think.
Long story short - Result!! Why do some days go so much easier than others?? Even the wee on the floor was handle-able. And we have a lovely, clean toilet as a result.
In other news, a sweet bit. On our way home tonight, we were talking about how it wasn't dark yet - it was 5.15pm - and then we turned the corner and we could see the moon up in the still-a-little-bit-blue sky. Sweeney said "my dad's in the moon" and we chatted for a bit about how he might be spending his time. Sweeney really loved mucking around with the controls on Martin's hospital bed, and Martin let him think that he needed help with it, but eventually he was in too much pain to handle the jiggling and we had to stop the playing. Sweeney reckons that his dad will now have the hang of how to raise and lower his special bed with a button, because he's not sick or sore anymore, and he's had a bit of time to work the buttons out. Also, Sweeney's pretty sure that his dad will be watching Bo on the Go every day.