Wednesday 23 May 2012

Hot and Bothered

I won't go on about how hot it is.  Those of you who have witnessed my heat-induced malaise at first hand do not need to be reminded, and the rest of you do not need to be bored.  Suffice to say, pushing a heavy poussette with about 25 kilos on board in temperatures edging 30 degrees is enough to make one expire.

I think I'm having a bit of a meltdown, which may or may not be heat-related.  I think it's more likely shit-related.  The Big Girl refuses to use a toilet and I've had some extremely loose stools to clean off her.  It makes me feel actually sick, and desperate, and scared that I will have to do this forever.  When she asks for a nappy I feel like I'm locked in.

So many people in Brussels have a firework display of languages to their name, and have degrees and degrees and possibly degrees.  All I've done is work hard and learn a lot.  In the UK this seemed to be enough - I worked for directors in a couple of jobs.  Here, I'm not so sure.  All I can hope is that the people with the sparkly languages and degrees in being fabulous will not be applying for the same jobs as me. 

I don't want something sparkly.  I just want a desk, a mug, some fairly interesting stuff to do and people to talk to, and to make myself quietly indispensable.  I would like a proper lunch break rather than ten minutes in Square Ambiorix shovelling something from Carrefour down my face.  I'd like never to look up someone's bumhole ever again.

I know, I chose this.  Still there are no regrets, and I don't want to go back.  I only want to go forward.  I just need somewhere to go.




 




6 comments:

  1. How old is she Jane? I think this could be a kind of deliberate rebellion against her mother not giving her enough attention? It's a bloody horrible job though, cleaning other peoples' kids shitty bums..bad enough when it's your own kids.

    At the risk of having people criticise me, I'd actually let her wait a bit before changing her..let her get used to how uncomfortable it is. Oh but maybe that's abuse? Anyway I'd do it.

    You really need a different job...good luck with that xx

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  2. I think she's at least three, isn't she? Getting near the time when she should be able to ask to go to the toilet...so on the positive side, you probably have less time ahead of you than you have behind you. So to speak.
    Don't let the bastards grind you down.
    Sounds like Brux has gone from wet to hot - it's not an easy switch - hope the weather is kind to you in the coming weeks. And keep your eyes and ears open for something non-sparkly but more attractive than arse-wiping. There's got to be something! Axxx

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  3. Hey, I'm inclined to agree on the delay in nappy changing tactic - sitting in her own shit for a while may encourage the kid to gain an interest in the potty and stop being a little madam.

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  4. Heat and Shit, not a good combo. Can't remember how long mine took to toilet train, but I do remember pooing the pants was used as a protest; it only occurred when they were with friends and not when I was there. Seriously embarrassing. What I also can't remember is if those people remained friends! I'm keeping my fingers crossed for you Jane; hope something better comes up. Martha x

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  5. She's three and just over a half. Apparently has never done number twos anywhere except a nappy. The trouble with leaving her in it is I've only just got her to tell me when she's finished and needs changing. She will quite happily wander around with a load of shit adhering to her, stinking the place out.

    Sorry so many of my posts are about poo.

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  6. Does the child not wear pants during the day? I remember being so annoyed with my daughter, who had taken to toilet training with no problems... Except for poo. She would regularly do that in her pants and I would be so cross with her. Until the day I caught her hidden behind the TV cabinet, in mid-poo. And I finally realized that all she wanted was a bit of privacy in whch to do her business. That being said, it will be impossible for you to do any training if the parents don't follow through when they are at home. You have my sympathy.

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