We're Not Smashing the New School Term… But We Are Present

Wow.

Well, I don't know if we're exactly smashing this new school term...

But we are present.

Everyone is getting to roughly where they need to be, usually wearing clothes, and so far I haven't forgotten to collect anyone.

So I'm taking that as a win.

The start of this term has felt less like gently settling back into a routine and more like being hit by a tornado while holding school bags, a water bottle and somebody else's PE kit.

I think I'm surviving.

But honestly, who knows?

People keep telling me this parenting malarkey gets easier.

WHEN?

Because I'm nine years in now and I'm starting to suspect I've been lied to.

We Finally Took the Potty-Training Plunge

We've also been potty training.

Because obviously the beginning of a new school term wasn't chaotic enough.

Potty training a third child is very different to potty training your first.

With your first, you probably clear the diary.

You stay home.

You have the potty strategically positioned.

You have stickers.

Rewards.

Spare clothes.

You've read an article entitled The 3-Day Potty Training Method and genuinely believe this will all be wrapped up by Thursday.

Third child?

I've spent approximately six months thinking:

"We'll do it when things calm down."

Turns out things never calm down when you have three children.

There was never going to be a magical week where nobody had school, clubs, appointments, parties, work or somewhere they desperately needed to be.

So eventually I just thought...

Right.

Pants on.

Let's go.

And I can honestly say I don't think I've laughed this much during any previous potty-training experience.

I don't know whether it's exhaustion or whether by child number three you simply lose the ability to be shocked by bodily fluids.

But there is something particularly entertaining about watching the absolute terror spread across the older two children's faces when their little sister casually announces:

"I've done a poo in my pants."

Nobody moves.

Nobody breathes.

They just look at me.

I look at them.

And for some reason, at this stage of parenting, my immediate response is no longer to cry.

It's to laugh.

Possibly slightly hysterically.

But laugh nonetheless.

Although, to give her credit, she's actually doing brilliantly.

And there really is something to be said for waiting until they're ready.

It turns out I probably didn't need six months of worrying about finding the "perfect time".

She just needed to decide she was ready.

Typical really.

Has Anyone Else Reached the Laughing Stage of Parenting?

I don't know if this happens to everyone eventually, but I've reached the point where when something goes spectacularly wrong...

I just laugh.

I genuinely think the laughter has replaced the tears.

Something happens and there's a tiny pause where my brain seems to assess the situation:

Could cry.

Could completely lose my mind.

Could laugh.

Yep.

We're laughing.

Which brings me to...

the sea snails.

Of Course There Were Dead Sea Snails in My Sink

My son had apparently brought some sea snails — whelks — home from the beach.

Did I know about this?

No.

He had secretly kept them in his bedroom.

Lovely.

Unfortunately, as living things tend to do when removed from the sea and secretly stored in a nine-year-old's bedroom...

they died.

Now, faced with this situation, there were several reasonable options available to him.

Tell Mum.

Put them in the bin.

Take them outside.

Apparently none of those made the shortlist.

Instead, he decided to crunch them up and push them down the bathroom sink.

Three-week-old dead sea snails.

Down.

The.

Sink.

So there I am with my tweezers, pulling tiny pieces of shell out of the drain.

And laughing.

And gagging.

And laughing again.

Because what else are you supposed to do?

Every time I thought I'd got the last bit...

Another bit of shell appeared.

Nearly two hours later, I finally finished.

Two hours.

Of my life.

Removing decomposing sea-snail remains from a bathroom drain with tweezers.

Show me THAT chapter in the parenting books.

Surely That Was the End of It?

Later that afternoon, I picked my son up from school.

I thought I'd approach the situation calmly.

Very mature.

No shouting.

Just:

"By the way, I found the snails in the bathroom sink. Please don't ever put shells down the drain again."

Simple.

Conversation over.

Lesson learned.

Except my son looked at me thoughtfully and said:

"I was thinking we should bury them and have a ceremony like they do for people."

Sorry?

A what?

A funeral?!

A funeral for the three-week-old decomposed sea snails I've just spent TWO HOURS extracting from the plumbing?!

And this is where I made my critical error.

I said the word.

Funeral.

I saw it happen.

The idea cemented itself in his head immediately.

There was no going back.

We were now having a sea-snail funeral.

Except there was one small problem.

I'd already put the remains in the bin.

And when I went to retrieve them...

I couldn't find them.

So yes.

I then found myself sneaking around the garden looking for an empty snail shell, desperately hoping my son wouldn't see me.

Found one.

Crushed it up.

Presented it as the deceased.

I realise there are probably several moral lessons we could unpack here.

We're not going to.

Every Cloud...

The silver lining?

He had to dig a hole for the funeral.

Which kept him quiet and occupied for a surprisingly long time.

And apparently attendance wasn't compulsory.

So I didn't even have to go.

Honestly?

Five stars.

Would recommend sea-snail funerals as an independent-play activity.

Perhaps not one for the Playtime Pioneers developmental guide...

But you never know.

Maybe This Is Just Parenting

So that's where we're at.

New school term.

Potty training.

School runs.

Work.

Poo.

Dead sea snails.

Fraudulent funeral remains.

And a growing suspicion that when people tell you parenting gets easier, what they actually mean is:

you get better at laughing when it all goes completely wrong.

Maybe that's the secret.

You stop expecting everything to run smoothly.

You stop thinking everyone else has it completely together.

You accept that sometimes you're going to be standing over a bathroom sink with tweezers wondering how this became your life.

And then you laugh.

Because really...

What else can you do?

We're not smashing the new school term.

We're not beautifully organised.

I still don't really know what I'm doing.

But we're present.

Everyone is loved.

Everyone is fed.

The toddler is mostly using the toilet.

And the sea snails have been laid to rest.

I'd say we're doing alright.

Meanwhile, at Playtime Pioneers…

Amongst all of the poo, plumbing and funerals for marine life, something really lovely has been happening at Playtime Pioneers.

We had some truly lovely orders over the summer, and then when we announced that our Scene Setter Kits were finally being restocked...

More orders came in.

And I don't think I'll ever get used to that feeling.

Honestly, every single order normally results in one of two things:

I phone my husband in an unnecessarily high-pitched voice shouting:

"WE'VE HAD ANOTHER ORDER!"

Or I run around the house celebrating like I've just secured a multimillion-pound investment deal.

One kit ordered?

Apparently we're opening the champagne.

It might sound ridiculous, but I truly mean it when I say every single order is noticed, appreciated and celebrated.

Someone has found this little business I created.

They've looked at something I spent hours designing, developing, testing and worrying about.

And they've decided to spend their money on it for their child.

That never feels like just an order to me.

So if you've ordered from us — whether you've been here since the beginning or you've only just discovered Playtime Pioneers — thank you.

Genuinely.

You probably don't realise quite how happy you've made a slightly frazzled woman somewhere in Wiltshire.

And We've Made Some New Bundles

After seeing how much you loved our Summer Survival offer, I've been thinking about how we can make choosing your Playtime Pioneers sets a little easier.

So I've put together some new bundles based on the different ways families actually use our products.

The Sibling Pack

1 Scene Setter Kit + 1 Pioneer Pack

Anyone with more than one child will immediately understand the thinking behind this one.

Duplicates.

More play pieces.

More resources.

And hopefully considerably fewer arguments about who had what first.

Because apparently it doesn't matter that there are 47 other things available to play with.

They both need that exact one.

At the exact same time.

Obviously.

The Explorer Pack

2 Scene Setter Kits

Our Summer Survival 2-kit offer was such a hit that I didn't want the idea to

disappear completely when summer ended.

So it's had a little makeover and become The Explorer Pack.

Two different worlds to explore, switch between and create stories with — and because the Scene Setters fold away, you don't need two enormous roleplay toys permanently occupying half of your house.

Which, as the person who created Playtime Pioneers because I was fed up with bulky toys taking over mine, remains VERY important to me.

The Christmas Bundle

Yes.

I said it.

Christmas.

It's October. I think I'm legally allowed now.

Our Christmas Bundle includes:

2 Scene Setter Kits + 2 Roleplay Notepads + 1 Glo Cube

So whether you're shopping for siblings, looking for one bigger present, or attempting to become one of those mysterious people who has Christmas shopping sorted before December...

This one's for you.

And if you buy it now, you can put it away somewhere safe, completely forget where you've hidden it and spend three hours looking for it on Christmas Eve.

Because apparently that's festive tradition.

Thank You

Playtime Pioneers is still a small business.

It's still me behind the scenes.

Packing the boxes.

Coming up with ideas.

Trying things.

Changing things.

Celebrating orders.

And occasionally stopping halfway through the working day because somebody has blocked the bathroom sink with the remains of a sea creature.

So every time you order, share one of our posts, tell a friend about us, leave a review or even just follow along with this slightly chaotic journey...

Thank you.

We're building this little business one order at a time.

And yes...

I will probably continue announcing every single one to my husband at an unnecessarily high pitch.

Some traditions are worth keeping.