Freddie is still refusing to use the toilet, and this morning he thumped me in the eye while I was helping him to put on his trousers.

My gut feeling (if you’ll excuse the pun) is still that constipation as at the root of his attitude. He is beginning to show physical signs of discomfort now, too. Following our doctor’s instructions we have increased the dose of laxatives, but with no result as yet.

So the name of the game today is to help him feel as warm, content and relaxed as possible, in the hope that this will be conducive to ‘productivity’.


Big Sister made him a cup of warm, and very, very milky tea in his favourite mug. She gently warmed a bean bag too, and encouraged him to hold it on his tummy while she fed him the tea, cuddled up a nest on his bed watching a DVD.

And, dare I say it, waiting for s*** to happen.


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