Monday, June 27, 2011

Are You Freakin Kidding me?

  I am having THAT kind of day. You know, the kind where it would actually be more fun if a big truck ran over your foot. And there is only one reason this day has been so not-fun, and his name rhymes with Beth.

  Ever since Christmas time we have been dealing with bodily-waste control issues. It has ebbed and flowed (pun totally intended!) but never totally gone away. Then one day a few weeks ago, not having any other options for helping our little man, we decided to just completely ignore the issue. We told him so, too. It doesn't hurt ME if he has poopy pants. I don't have to sit in it. I don't have to smell it. Heck, I don't even have to clean it up. If he wants to enjoy his own feces and urine, then more power to him.

  And it stopped. Not a drop of pee, not a squiggle of poo, not one extra pair of underwear that needed to be decontaminated before it could join the laundry.

  We rejoiced (not in his presence of course) and patted our smug selves on the back for our superior parenting of this challenged child. We raised our arms and hooted for ourselves!

  You can see where this is going.......

  Today i was cleaning out some old things from the bonus room off of our bedroom. Back behind my craft cabinet, tucked in between the giant safe and file cabinet, I stumbled upon a secret. A hoard of poo crusted underwear, most also with enough dried pee to make them crackle when bent, and a wad of yellow, crusty paper towels. I began to pull them out, one by one. Four, five, six, seven. I felt my blood pressure rising. I had to stop and breathe deeply for a few minutes before I could even leave the room.

  The problem is that I have no idea how old these are. Pre-'we don't care' phase, or post-'we don't care' phase. I did ask him about it, but as you might have guessed I got a lot of 'I don't know' and 'I can't remember'. I do know he pooped his pants last Friday while Kaytee was watching them and threw them in the trash to hide them.

  So we decided he is back in pullups and will have to start kindergarten as the only kid in pullups.

3 comments:

June said...

Not sure if you've talked with your pediatrician about the possibility of encopresis. Sometimes kids who suffer with this appear to have more bowel control than they do. Just an idea...

Reba said...

Oh, Wendy...I had a feeling where this post was going. I am sorry. I really think my children's job is to debunk any sense of confidence I have in myself as a mom. I really think they rejoice in that. :) I echo the previous comment. You might get him checked out to make sure physically there isn't something going on. Beyond that, I have no answers. I wish I did. :(

Redghia said...

Trauma just never quits, does it? You think you've got something solved, and there it is again. Disappointing. Deeply. You did get mileage out of the attempt, though. When you are able to work up the energy again, try it again. Maybe he'll buy the addendum of 'it's safe to tell me if you've had a problem with your underwear..'

I truly hate the fear that is so ingrained into them...and the resulting fear that WE end up with thay we won't be successful undoing the damage!

I wish you luck....