A Hidden Well

firsts

Happy first day of school, Casey!

 

Happy first morning of freedom, me!

Santa just came down the chimney

I feel as exuberant as a child on Christmas morning!  Santa just arrived at my house in the form of a phone call from The Montessori School informing me that Casey can start school on Monday!  Not potty trained?  No problem.  They'll manage it.  Holy Jumpin' Jupiter.  The Universe is good.

 

And today . . .

a big load of poop right in the undies, without even the slightest attempt to use the toilet.  How utterly depressing.  He'll never go to school at this rate.

Hallelujah!

Casey pooped tonight!  In the potty!  A real, actual big solid poop.  Of course, I wasn't home to witness the big event.  It figures -- I stay home with the kid all day long accompanying him to the potty practically every ten minutes, and the minute I leave he decides he's going to poop.  But I'm not complaining.  Glenn saw it, and that's good enough for me.  Things are looking up.

no more tears

Today's Quote: "Remember always that you have not only the right to become an individual, you have an obligation to be one.  You cannot make any useful contribution in life unless you do this." -- Eleanor Roosevelt

Hmmmm . . . what's new?  Well, I'm not crying anymore, so that's a plus.  Jack and I are going to The Big E tonight when he gets home from school.  It's $5 after 5 PM on week nights, and we're the only ones in the family who really enjoy it.  Glenn says it never changes from one year to the next, so he only likes to go once a decade.  Chloe likes the animals but thinks the rest of it is boring.  And we never bring Casey to such events unless we absolutely have to.  I'm perfectly happy to go with Jack.  He's good company and he's always willing to share an order of deep fried mushrooms or maple cotton candy.

Can't think of anything else to report.  Oh yeah, there is one more thing.  Chloe's going to march with her school in the town's Bicentennial Parade On October 5th.  The theme is School Children in 1808 and 2008.  Chloe, of course, wants to dress as a student from 1808.  I'm thinking something along the lines of Laura Ingalls Wilder.  Anyone have thoughts or suggestions as to how I might put together a costume?  (Remember, I don't sew.  I can manage fabric glue and a staple gun.  I think I might be in trouble!)

inspiration anyone?

Today's Quote: "The world bursts at the seams with people ready to tell you you're not good enough.  On occasion, some may be correct.  But do not do their work for them.  Seek any job;  ask anyone out;  pursue any goal.  Don't take it personally when they say no -- they may not be smart enough to say yes."  -- Keith Olberman, Broadcast journalist and host of MSNBC's Countdown with Keith Olberman

I found the above quote on my Starbuck's coffee cup this morning.  I was indulging in a pumpkin spice latte, something I tend to do when I'm feeling bad for myself, which has been far too often of late.  The latte, although delicious, was really only adding to my misery, because I felt guilty for ordering a rich, fattening drink when I could have opted for a plain old coffee.  Anyway, as I was attempting to enjoy my latte despite my guilt, I discovered the Keith Olberman quote inscribed on the cup and I found it inspirational.  Given my current state of mind, I'll gladly accept any inspiration that comes my way, even if it's a random quote on a paper cup.

At risk of exposing how fragile I tend to be beneath my confident, self-assured veneer, I will share that I spent most of yesterday and a good portion of last night crying.  I feel entirely overwhelmed by Casey's refusal to poop in the potty, and my disappointment at his not being able to start school tomorrow is palpable.  If ever a child needed to be in pre-school, it's Casey.  I say this not only because I am desperate to have some time to myself (although that's quite true), but also because Casey needs to be in an environment that challenges him and provides him ample opportunities to play, explore, and interact with peers.  He's not getting that hanging around the house everyday.  Plus -- and this is totally legitimate but harder to discuss -- he has an IEP (Individualized Education Plan, for those not familiar with special ed lingo).  What this means is that he is supposed to be receiving special services to monitor and work with his difficulty with using language effectively.  Additionally, I have concerns regarding some sensory integration issues, which need to be assessed by an OT (occupational therapist) in order to be addressed, and none of this can happen if he's not in school.  And he can't be in school unless he poops on the potty, which he refuses to do.  Hence, my tears.  I'm no longer crying -- not because I feel much better, but because I am all cried out.  There are no tears left at the moment.  I'm like a sponge that has been squeezed dry, waiting lamely by the kitchen faucet for someone to pick me up and make me useful once again.  In the meantime, I busy myself with housework.  I cancel all the appointments I had purposely scheduled for late September, when I beieved Casey would finally be back in school.  My hair can wait.  My teeth can wait.  My eyes can wait.  My mental health can wait -- although this particular wait worries me a bit.

On a positive note, Jack and Chloe are doing well in school.  Jack auditioned for the middle school play, Annie.  He wanted to play Rooster, the evil Miss Hannigan's conniving brother.  And he got the part!  It's one of the two significant male roles -- the other being Daddy Warbucks, and there's just no way Jack could pull that off with his head of hair!  Chloe is having an awesome soccer season.  I went to her game last Saturday and was amazed at how far she's come since micro-soccer, when she'd basically just stand around on the field daydreaming and pointing at passing airplanes.  She's really good, and is an excellent goalie, which blows me away because the very idea of playing goalie filled me with fear and dread as a kid.  (Not that I ever played on a soccer team as a kid, but we did occasionally play soccer, or some version of it, in gym class.) 

Okay, gotta run.  Casey and I have an appointment to hang out in the bathroom.  Maybe if he sits on the toilet long enough he'll poop.  One can dream.

update

So . . . here's an update for anyone who might be following the saga of Casey's reluctance to poop in the potty.  In a nutshell, there's been no improvement.  I spoke to his teacher (or, would be teacher) today, and she confirmed what I have long feared. Casey cannot attend school until he is fully potty trained.  That means he won't be starting school this Wednesday, as originally planned.  At risk of sounding melodramatic (and I realize I have a tendency toward melodrama), I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that I am heartbroken. And that's about all I have to say.

I'm not kidding.

I realize that in the grand scheme of things, the fact that my kid won't poop in the potty is of little importance.  I know this, and yet this knowledge does not prevent me from obsessing over it.  I swear I am at my wit's end. I am sick to death of cleaning his soiled underwear and scraping off the poop that is inevitably plastered to his butt.  Plus, if he can't poop in the potty, then he can't start school.  And I NEED.HIM.TO.START.SCHOOL.  My sanity is on the line here.  Seriously.

a potty poem

a potty poem, inspired by William Carlos Williams (although I'm certain he'd turn over in his grave if he knew)

 

This is Just to Say

 

I have cleaned your bum

six times today

and washed the poop

from six pairs of underpants

 

and I’ve done so

with as much patience

as a weary mother

could muster

 

so I kindly request

from here on out

you take pity on me

and utilize the toilet

 

© Gina Campellone, 2008

 

ack

I'm freaking out and feeling totally overwhelmed and tearful and exhausted.  I know what I really should do is go to bed because I am clearly over-tired and a decent night's sleep would probably help a great deal.  But I am avboiding going to bed because I know that the minute my head hits the pillow my mind will start racing and I'll get so stressed that I'll end up getting out of bed to make a list of all the things I'm afraid I will forget to do.  Sigh.  (For the record, nothing is terribly wrong.  I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed by life in general and my role as a parent specifically.  I love my kids like crazy, in a huge, immense, no words to describe it kind of way.  But sometimes I feel like I'm failing miserably as a parent.  Probably just the lack of sleep talking.)

Okay, I just decided that I will go to iTunes and buy some new music.  Something soothing and mellow.  Then I'll go to bed with my ipod and, with any luck, fool myself into falling alseep.

 

Chloe's first day of school.