Published Monday, 26 March 2012
The potty - a veteran of two other trainees - was dusted off and disinfected, the big girl pants brought out, and all fingers crossed.
My memories of training the last two are pretty blurred as there are only 13 months between them.
Actually I can remember very little about them being toddlers. I do recall that Finn practically trained himself, in about a day, with the minimum of fuss.
While my big girl went about like an X Factor audition - the more cheers she got, the better she did.
Regular readers of my blog will know that Kitty (2) is another kettle of fish (or potty of wee) entirely.
With a garden full of grannies, siblings, cousins and neighbours she played away with the big kids, until suddenly she disappeared from view.
She was spotted squatting by the playhouse, her wet leggings the evidence that it wasn't going according to plan.
One quick change and a chat later ("Now you'll tell us if you need to use the toilet?" "Of course I will") she was off again.
After another big play, she came tottering over to the assembled oldies with another wet patch - and a suspicious looking one at that.
One enquiry later established that she'd fallen in the muddy puddle left by the hose - phew!
By this stage my nerves were bad, although I think we're making progress.
I have every faith in her, but I must admit that I'll have a wee tear in my eye the day the last packet of nappies goes into the trolley.