Some days a guy can’t help it: He has to talk about urine.
Whoa! Hey! Where is everybody going? …all right, I understand, see you tomorrow.
I don’t want to dive into this particular subject, you understand, but discussing Sonny honestly means talking every once in a while about potty training. Which right now is taking giant steps backwards every single day. Which leads me to pose a question to the five of you still reading this:
WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON? HUH? I mean, one of the most basic assumptions I’ve been running with here is that while it might be really hard to teach Sonny a particular skill, once he knows that skill, he’s not going to wake up one day and forget it. And a month ago, Sonny was potty trained. Yes, yes, he still had to wear a diaper at night, and to assure that diaper stayed dry, I had to wake him up in the middle of the night and drag him out of his bed, and get him into the bathroom. But with this system, we went WEEKS without an accident.
Weeks! We could see, right up ahead, the door marked POTTY TRAINING COMPLETE — a door, I might say, that few Fragile X parents reach this soon, or so I gather from reading various FX message boards. But we were there, preparing to knock and jiggle the doorknob. Why, we’re probably the most successful Fragile X parents in the world! We would have to write a book and share our wisdom and collect great big royalty checks!
That was then. Now I can’t remember the last time he’s had a dry overnight diaper, and it’s been two weeks easy since we’ve gotten through the day without an accident. I am left baffled and a little bit angry by what is going on. He can either control his bladder or he can’t. Right? And we know he can, because he spent a heck of a long time doing exactly that. So if he can control himself… is he doing this on purpose? He sure doesn’t act like someone who’s doing it on purpose. He gets very sad, and berates himself for a while.
I’m at a total loss on how to react when this happens. I have enough control over my emotions that I can choose a particular response, except I don’t know which one to pick. Anger? To show him this is bad? Complete neutrality, like I don’t care? My natural state, during these incidents, is mostly bewilderment, so that’s pretty much what Sonny gets. Are we going to have to let him run around naked again, sitting on a towel in the living room, watching him like a hawk for any signs of, um, precipitation? We did that for a long, long, long time — it’s how we got Sonny where he is today. Or where he was, anyway, until recently.
I’m hoping the upcoming change in medication will have an impact on this. Heaven knows our brilliant “parenting” isn’t doing much of anything.
On the other hand, looking on the bright side of things, we are not yet at the point that I have to write a blog post entitled “Feeling a Little Crappy.”