A PARENT’S life can, if you’re not careful, come to be dominated by the multitude of milestones which mark a child’s development.

Particularly in the early days, it is very easy to get swept away by the tide of ‘oh, they should be doing this at this stage’ as far as smiling, sitting, sprouting teeth, crawling, walking, eating, sleeping through the night and any other detail you care to imagine are concerned.

But the husband and I have always tried to keep the fact that our daughter is an individual at the forefront of our minds, and she has gladly reinforced this by never doing anything typical at all.

And really, what is typical? That way madness lies. We’d have exploded with stress long ago if we’d been waiting for her to behave like some parenting book said she should.

But – you knew this was coming – we’re beginning to fret about the fact that she is not toilet-trained. She’s approaching three and a half, supposedly past the stage when this should have been achieved, and her nappy-clad bum is beginning to mark her out from her peers.

There’s not a single conversation I have with my own mother where she doesn’t mention it, critique our current approach, or query whether or not we are approaching things in the right way or with enough vigour to achieve success.

My brother and I, however, were toilet-trained no problem so my mother won’t really be able to empathise with, or fully comprehend, a small person who has no interest in getting out of her nappies whatsoever.

I’ve read the books and made charts and bought nice big girl pants for her to wear, and talked about my own movements more than I care to think about.

I’ve sat her on loos and the potty relentlessly and she has still happily crouched and evacuated her bowels on the sofa, floor, top of the stairs or in her own bed.

She remains adamant and resistant to progress, and, given that she demonstrates none of the stated behaviours which apparently indicate her readiness for this stage, I am not sure how far, or how aggressively, to push matters.

I’ll happily admit that I do leave her alone when we’re at the point where she’s upset or actually crying at the thought of it all. 

The sensible advice – minus the antagonism that my mother seems to add to her every mention of the issue - of a good friend, A, has somewhat reassured me that it will happen, and that we will get there if we remain calm and confident with our daughter, reiterating that this is the plan from now on.

I shall keep you informed!