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?

To clarify...

I have heard from several of my peeps that they thought, after reading yesterday's post, that my "sweet" Playette literally showed her behind on more than one occasion yesterday.

I, for one, hate to ruin a hilarious mental image, but that's totally just a figure of speech.

It was more like a case of Preschooler Behaving Badly.

Urban Dictionary elaborates (warning: crass language!)

When she does explore that phrase more literally? I will be sure to let you know. Ha!

Discipline, etc.

When I got home from work today, I was told by our trusty babysitter that apparently Playette showed her entire behind both at school all day and during her PT session.

My guess is that she was expressing her pisstivity that her dad has been away again. He's on his way home now (take that, crazies who may be lurking), but that didn't seem to be enough to keep her content throughout the day.

So. What to do. I was mad, sure, but how do I address this with her so long after it took place?

I mean, in my day, I would have been spanked from here to eternity for such behavior. My approach has been a little different. We do time outs. We have conversations. It feels strange since this isn't how I was raised, but I have been trying. Actually, we have been trying. BD is definitely a full partner in this entire endeavor.

In all honesty, Ds is not even a factor. We just do what we think is best to do. We certainly don't give her any leeway because of her diagnosis. This girl understands right from wrong and we hold her accountable for her actions. Typically, it pays off because she's a pretty well-behaved and ultra-polite kid most of the time.

Today, I asked her to join me on the bottom step and we had a little chat. I kept my voice even and calm and tried to recall tidbits I've learned from watching experts on TV. I told her that I was disappointed in her behavior and that she promised me that she would be a good girl at school. What she exhibited was the opposite of what we had agreed to and that made me angry.

She started baaawwwwling.

"Well," I thought, "It seems like she gets the point."

So I told her to stay on the step until I told her otherwise.

She lost it some more.

I called BD, who was sitting in an airport in NY. He chatted with her for a while.

In all, she might have sat on that step for slightly more than the customary four minutes.

But, trust me, this is progress in my world. I never expected to even entertain an approach like this.

So. Gold star for me.

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In other news, I hit the Dirty 30s today. I wish I meant my age, but I mean weeks of pregnancy.

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Also, we got the boot in gymnastics. Her last class will be next week. Apparently, I had the nerve to approach the teacher about her allowing another class to disrupt our class and she didn't like that. I'll have to elaborate more on that later. It really is a crop of crap, but I'd rather it be over than have to deal with the angst I was feeling each week. I could not have been nicer when I spoke with her, but she still decided to be offended for whatever reason. Why am I surrounded by wack-a-loons?

What sucks the most is that my conversation also impacts another child/family since the teacher didn't just cancel for Playette, she cancelled the class. Period. So now we have two cuties in hot pants and leotards with no plans for Wednesday nights.

We'll find them something better. Hmph.

Influenced

Playette has been in a typical daycare or preschool environment for nearly four years now.

Our purpose in going that route was to expose her to other children, since she had no siblings at home, and get some positive influences from her typically developing peers.

For the most part, we've been pleased. She's great at playing and learning amongst other children and has plenty of friends that she asks for by name. She also has friends with varying unique needs. We're all about equal opportunity over here. One of her buddies in her class last year in CA uses a wheelchair and I loved that, to Playette, she was just one of the gang. Which is as it should be.

Many adults could stand to learn a lot from these kiddos.

Along with the great stuff, we get some gems that we know can only have come from being in school.

The latest is the evolution from "uh-oh" to "OOOOOHHHHHHH!"

It cracks me up. Let's say you drop something. She is quick to point and yell, "OOOOOHHHHHHH!"

Like she caught you do something wrong and she's about to tell or as a warning that you're about to get in big trouble.

It's funny because, really...how much trouble am I apt to be in for dropping my keys? And who is going to punish me for that offense, exactly?

I love that little nut.

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We just got in from vacation last night, so we're buried in washing tons of warm-weather gear while also trying to put together something that resembles Christmas morning for the kidlet.

Sure it's two days later and after 6pm.

How much you wanna bet she won't care?

More later...

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.

Odds/Ends

I keep meaning to wrap up a few themes on here, but then something else happens that catches my attention (oohh, shiny!) and off I go on that tangent.

So, for those who were wondering:

Playette is adjusting well to her dad being back home. The strange throat thing she started doing after he left did not miraculously disappear at homecoming like I had hoped it would. Boo on that. At least now I have company in being driven crazy by it though.

She was absolutely thrilled to see BD again. I can tell that she's still adjusting. When he's gone to work, she'll ask if he's away on the boat. I tell her no and that he'll be home soon, but I don't think she believes me. It takes him walking in the door for it to be true.

She's quite clingy to both of us and loves holding one hand each while we walk. I'm sure there's a lot of security in that and I can't blame her one bit. She thrives when both of us are present. She's just...happier that way.

Now, when it comes to discipline, she definitely listens more to me than BD. In her world right now, he makes suggestions and I lay down the law. We're working on getting her to understand that both of the big ones run the show.

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The Mom's Night Out went well. I got there a little late, but still before dinner was ordered. There were five other mothers there and it was quite a nice mix of children's ages and diagnoses. Not all of the people that participate in the Ds support group have children with Ds and I think that's awesome. There are some uniquenesses about children that don't allow for large groups to support the families and I'm happy that they have a place with all of us. There can be many similarities when it comes to chromosomal abnormalities. At the end of the day, we're all in the same gang.

I'm looking forward to the next gathering. This group tends to do things together quite a bit a bit, whether it's with everyone, the moms, the dads, the kids of different ages...I think we've got a little something to do for a piece of every weekend in February. That's even cooler when you're new to an area and don't know many people.

I have met some great folks so far. One family has a little girl very close to Playette's age, another family is within walking distance of our house (!!), and yet another family has quite a few similarities to our own which has lead to any easy connection.

I also have a couple of college friends in the area and some people from our last duty station have moved here as well.

I don't want to wait too long to make myself at home here like I did before. We'll be gone again before you know it!

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School is going well. I'm going in in a couple of hours to observe the class in action and then we'll have a quick IEP meeting. Did I just write "quick IEP meeting"? Hm. I'm still not so sure those exist. But they tell me that this is just a transfer from one form to another, basically, and that we can meet again when everyone has gotten to know each other a little better. We shall see.

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We're all moved into our new home and, for the most part, there's a place for everything and everything is in its place.

Just don't open the closets.

How do you know?

I had a great night tonight, but I'm going to let it marinate for a little while and write about it in a bit. So much to say!

In the meantime...

If you're the parent of a child with Ds, you may have asked yourself at some point, especially if you're a first-timer like me, "Is this a developmental stage or is this the Ds?"

I mean, of course I do that with things like speech and behavioral issues, but this other one...this other one I can't help but wonder if it's attached to the extra 21 or not.

Door closing.

Playette cannot function with an open door. If she wakes up from a nap and her bedroom door is cracked, she doesn't come out and greet the world refreshed. Nope. First, she has to close the door. Then, she'll come back and open it.

I've heard other parents of kids with Ds say the same thing.

But do 46ers also sometimes do it with the same conviction?

Is it a common 3 year-old thing and I just don't know because I've never had another 3 year-old?

So, regardless of what experience you've had, what say you?

I'm really curious about this one.

Are obsessive behaviors common in people with Ds, regardless of the age?

Hm. Now that I think about it, I do recall seeing that Monica, from the documentary Monica and David, had to have things just so. Is it a matter of routine and being in control?

Paper Chase

Playette chews paper, any kind (towel, toilet, bills, napkins, etc.). I thought it was a baby thing, but she's not a little baby anymore. She loves the stuff. At least now, when I ask her to spit it out into my hand, she will. She knows it's not food.

[Hey! Lady who posted on the Babycenter TMR* board that kids with Ds throw food because they don't know what it is? My kid knows what food is. Just thought you'd want to know.

Not that she's reading this, but still. Grr. Ignorance.]

So.

She likes it. She chews it. She mouths a lot of things still, actually, but perhaps that is because she's still teething. (Left front tooth is finally poking through. We may get a matching set after all! WOOT!)

Does/did anyone else experience this with your kid? If so, did you do anything about it? Does it continue?


*Termination for Medical Reasons