Pee-Pee Pants and Preparation

Still pregnant. Just in case anyone was wondering.

Also? No signs of impending labor.

You do know that whole "due date" thing is just a suggestion, right?

Intellectually, I am aware of that fact as well, but there's just something about that day going by that does something to a gal. Add in the possibility of still having as many as twelve more days to go and...

Personally, it has made me certifiably loony. Either I'm laughing or crying. Eating or sleeping. One extreme or another. Moderation has gone out the window.

Yesterday, I spent quality time with my OnDemand. Never before had I shown interest in Celebrity Apprentice, but yesterday? I needed to watch the season. And then get unreasonably upset that I couldn't fast forward because I would fall asleep, the show would end, and then I'd wake up and have to start from the beginning. Again. And again. Talk about first world problems.

[I did actually learn something though. Clay Aiken's charity sounds amazing and him visiting the kids made me all teary.]

Today, I decided to make myself at least somewhat useful. I got up and showered and dressed. Before noon!

Wait. Just to clarify, I do wake up in the mornings. I am responsible for picking out Playette's clothes, doing her hair, and taking her to school. After that, I usually have good intentions, but many a day I end up back in the bed with the curtains drawn.

Because I'm that awesome. #notproud

Oh, and get this:

We rearranged our bedroom many weeks ago in order to get ready for the newbie. I gave up my nightstand and replaced it with a bassinet.

I have now turned the bassinet into a nightstand.

Turns out it's quite the convenient spot for the remote control and there's this little ribbon slot on the side that allows me to not have to reach to the floor, huffing and puffing, for my cell phone charger. It slides right in! Huzzah! And it's also a great place for my water bottle. Who knew?!

I promise that I'll adjust appropriately when the time comes.

Whenever that may be.

Gah.

So. Wondering how Playette is taking all of this?

I think she thinks that I'm the biggest liar ever. She's been waiting on this baby for a very. long. time. I am starting to think that she's going to be scarred for life when he does come because Dez is just supposed to live in my big belly FOREVER. Or so it seems.

We've been struggling with a lot of clinginess and attention-seeking behavior lately. And then there's the whole accident thing.

This week, there were three days in a row where Playette came home in her spare clothes. I just kept washing them and sending them back the next day. It made it easier for me to assess whether something had happened or not because my brain was having a hard time recognizing right away whether that was what she had worn that morning or not.

Enter the pee-pee pants.

They are teal and velour. They just barely still fit. They are obvious.

And I've seen them way too much this week.

We went from no worries in the land of toileting to my heart dropping every afternoon.

We've had conversations. Grown-up conversations about how amazing our bodies are that they tell us when to eat, drink, and...POTTY! Remember that part? Yeah. Stop waiting until the last possible second, kid. Or, maybe tell a teacher you have to go before you start? Because "I'm wet," is an awesome sentence and all, but it's not the most desirable use of your vocabulary at this particular time.

So now you see why I've been taking to my bed.

It's just stressful.

And, again, intellectually I know that other kids in her class may wear pee-pee pants, too, occasionally. I just don't want anyone to look at my kid (any more) differently. I want so badly for her to just blend.

*sigh*

In the effort to help her adjust better to the actual bringing home of baby, we went out today and got a few things. Since regression due to change related to a new sibling is totally normal, it was suggested by her teacher that we try to put her in a mommy-type role instead of allowing her the option of reverting back to that of baby when Dez arrives.

That meant going to the toy store today. (Good thing I got dressed!)

She got this:


And this:

And then we stopped at the library to check out this:


This was all pretty impromptu and we're not really the toy-buying types (Playette is just so content with what she has), so I hope it goes over well. The doll and gear will remain in the trunk of the car until needed and she's already "reading" the book. It seems perfect for her and this situation. BD really impressed me by finding the book in under three minutes, quite randomly, since we got to the library right before closing time.

I wish I could say that we put more thought into this whole thing, but we went from having sooo much time to having none, so, again with the winging it.

There's a full moon tonight, y'all. Think labor-inducing thoughts, 'k?

Three Things

1. Tricia was so kind as to share this video with me of Jamie Foxx and his sister, Diondra, (as well as others) at the Global Down Syndrome Foundation's Be Beautiful Be Yourself Fashion Show and fundraiser. How much would I have loved to have been there? A freakin' lot.

2. Gymnastics was slightly less awesome tonight as my child had a totally random and very rare accident of the #1 variety and then decided to top that feat moments later by spitting up some of her spaghetti dinner. At one point, she was walking around in a borrowed pull-up and a jacket because I didn't have any backup clothes because I'm cocky like that. Mom of the Year, ladies and gentlemen! Here I am. Right here.

3. Things went fine with my friend and the young man with Ds. I guess I didn't totally ruin everything, but my info didn't really end up coming into play this time. I was assured that he'd keep everything I shared in mind should the situation ever come up again. I hope you all can understand that I don't want to violate his trust by sharing any additional details. I just thought it was really cool that he asked me and found it heartwarming that all this advocacy is not always in vain.

Sometimes, it feels like I'm always talking to people that already know and understand everything I'm sharing, which is great because I totally need the support and validation, but...I also feel good knowing that people that don't have personal experience with Ds, especially people I haven't seen in many years, can get something from this as well.

Like a Moth to a Flame

My child's clothing seem to be drawn to the toilet bowl.

She sits there, does her business, and then decides to strip down.

I'd be ok with it if she didn't decide to send the clothing swimming afterward.

Except yesterday when she sat there, did her business, took of her pants, stuffed them in, and then did more business on top. Like a cherry.

That instance deserved three WOOCHILEs and one PRIMAL SCREAM.

Yeah, I think I'll start rating my frustration. Maybe that will make it more like a game? And then it'll become fun instead of stress-inducing?

Right?

*sigh*

Ok, so this whole Time Out thing...

Have they come up with something new yet? I never got Time Outs as a kid. I got my a$$ beat. So, I'm really trying to break tradition here. But Playette seems to have this Time Out thing all figured out. She has no problem sitting on the step(I've seen a whopping 3 episodes of Super Nanny and this is what I took away from it). She waits it out (sometimes she tries to entertain herself), and when I come back to her she waits for me to come down to her level and talk (blah blah blah), she says ok when I ask her not to do whatever again, then says and signs sorry, and gives me a hug while patting my back and asking me if I'm ok.

It kinda feels like I'm the one who was on Time Out.

Wait. Is that the point?

The Great Race to Nowhere

That's kinda how I'm thinking of potty training/toilet learning. Whatever it is you want to call it, the bottom line is all the same: The lack of need for expensive incontinence products.

Wait. Unfortunately, that's not it. That would be too easy. What I've learned is that not only do you get the pride/bragging rights that your kid can pee or poop in a pot, but a completely whole new world is opened to them.

Did you know that? I didn't.

I think it's crappy that my kid is not able to join a class at school or get involved in a rec center program or a myriad of other things because she happens to wear a pull-up or, on a great day, panties covered with a bulky plastic overlay.

See, my issue is that if she can count and knows her alphabet in two languages and gets along well with others, WHAT THE FLIPPING FLIP DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH WHETHER OR NOT SHE TELLS US SHE HAS TO GO?! WHY DOES SHE NEED TO BE IN A CLASS WITH TWO-YEAR-OLDS?!

Ahem.

Obviously, this is an hot button for me today.

And, trust me, I do get that staffing and money drive all of this. You need more people in a class that has children for whom toileting is an emerging skill. The ratio changes. Smaller ratios cost more money. Blah, blah, blah.

But it feels like another acceptable form of discrimination and lord knows we've got enough of those already. ("Will you accept my child with Down syndrome into your preschool program? No? Oh, alright then." - gag)

If my child is developmentally ready to learn age-appropriate things but she can't control her bladder, she doesn't move on. Basically. And I'm supposed to be ok with that.

This all ties into my last post where maybe it wasn't clear but...I am not fine with how that whole thing went down. But finding other placement for Playette? It's hard, yo. Because of all that stuff I just rambled about. No academics for girls that still tinkle in their dipes.

And that makes me think about this long, long road we've been on.

If you'll let him, BD will tell you all about how he was PT'd in the womb or something close to that. No, seriously, he was using the toilet really early.

So, when Playette was approaching two and he wanted to get her started, I was all, "Why not? We're supposed to treat her just as we would if she didn't have Ds, so if he's all motivated, let's go."

She was successful. And those days success looked like timely release. She knew that sitting on the potty meant it was time to go.

That was almost two years ago and we've gone through a lot of up and down since then. There were several occasions when I thought that she was going to be 100% PT'd any day now, and then I was happy with her being "schedule trained" and then there were others times (like when BD was deployed) when I thought that we were all the way back to square one.

We've tried having multiple Ikea potties stashed all over, a soft, cushy potty, inserts on regular-sized toilets, coloring books with stickers, and even an iPhone app that got her to go in a freaky Pavlovian kinda way.

In retrospect, we're just not as far along in the process as I had hoped we would be two years ago. I really, really wanted to believe back then that my kid was gonna be all Superstar Pee Pee Girl, but what I think I did instead was just stress myself the hell out for way too long about something that could have waited.

Every morning for the past few weeks, I've packed up a grocery bag full of pants, shirts, socks, underwear, and plastic covers. The school said that she was ready to take the next step and I was grateful for the assistance and support.

Every night, I did the laundry that came home. For a while, she was coming back to me in the same outfit she left in and I was getting notes that said things like, "She was dry all day!" That felt like good. Like progress. Like I could really start signing her up for classes at the rec and securing placement in an age-appropriate setting that had zero tolerance for teachers with no people skills.

And then, yesterday, on Friday, I got a letter.

"She is not physically ready," they said. "She is inconsistent in staying dry."

The school is giving up.

I know that I can't do the same. I don't know how to just stop when I know that she's trying, that she's proud of herself when she gets all the stars to align.

But I'd be lying if I said that didn't take the wind out of my sails.

Peeing in the toilet does not dictate how wonderful and capable my daughter is.
Peeing in the toilet does not dictate how wonderful and capable my daughter is.
Peeing in the toilet does not dictate how wonderful and capable my daughter is.
Peeing in the toilet does not dictate how wonderful and capable my daughter is.
Peeing in the toilet does not dictate how wonderful and capable my daughter is.

I'll let that marinate a bit.

Freeze!

One of Playette's newest obsessions is this ragtag group of hooligans.

Ok, so maybe they are squeaky clean.

And I could probably really let them off the hook because they're all daggone near 30 years old.

Anyway.

For the last few weeks, Playette has been enjoying the show immensely. It's funny because I swore off High School Musical and I'm guessing this is pretty darn similar.

And I like it.

Don't judge me.

Playette picked the following up from them and it cracks me up.

It also makes getting ready for school very time consuming since every few seconds we have to "Pease!"

Also, check out how my daughter knows way more ASL than I do and I can barely follow what she's trying to tell me sometimes. She goes on these long signing tangents and I get all noddy and "Oh, really?"

Poor, forgetful mama.



Yeah, we're still working on toileting. The plastic pants are the hotness, aren't they?

My Name's Bennett...

...and I aint in it.

Scene:

Playette is on the pot. BD says that we don't have any pull-ups downstairs so he's going up to get some. I keep an eye on Playette.

Moments later, he returns. In his hands are one pull-up and one teensy purple panty.

He offer Playette the choice of what she would like to wear.

I give him a look kinda like this:



You know what she chose.

This is totally his deal.

Sure, we've talked about trying this again at some point. But this evening?

Part of me is laughing inside. Because he's so confident.

Another part of me hopes that he truly is the Potty Whisperer and he wraps this whole toileting thing up before bedtime.

That would be awesome.

My husband, he's a pretty sharp guy. Anything's possible.

If he solves this age old dilemma in 4 hours, trust me, I'll be posting his fee and taking appointments.