The Epic Turd Trail

If you don't like to read about bodily elimination, then you shouldn't open up a blog post that has this title. Seriously. But if you're like my family who enjoys a good laugh over potty talk, read on......

And since I know you're all dying to know how potty training is going; here is your epic update:

When it comes to urine it's actually going quite well. Most of the time.

The other stuff?

Not so much.

He doesn't get it. At all. And he's on meds that keep him regular and loose to prevent cholitis flare-ups. So you can imagine how fun this is.

After several accidents yesterday, I told him he had to go get some clean clothes on to wear to the $1.50 showing of The Lorax followed by dinner at Chic-Fil-A with friends. This was his outfit that he chose:

Ummmmmm. No, Owen. You can't wear that.

Really, Mom? But look how cute it is?

Okay. So that's a firm no, then. You suck, Mom.

After agreeing on a different outfit that involved shorts and looked a little bit less like an athletic hooker, we headed out for our adventure.

And he did great all afternoon.

Until I went to check on him in the play area at CFA and Isaac said, "Mom, Owen needs a diaper change." And I said, "What do you mean?! He's not wearing a diaper." And Isaac said, "Oh. Then Mom, Owen got poop everywhere."

And that's when I saw it. A beautifully laid turd trail going up the steps and down the slide. (Which by the way, I do feel I should mention is the first time Owen has gone down any enclosed twisty slide. Yay, OT!) Granted, the OCD in him was probably just trying to make sure he evenly dispersed his excrement for all the kids to enjoy, but still.......

I won't go into all the clean-up details. But I will say, had anyone filmed our next fifteen minutes in the bathroom, we surely would have won America's Funniest Home Videos. Hands down. Or maybe America's Grossest Home Videos. 

And in case you're wondering, when I went back in the play area to thank the employees that had to finish cleaning it up, only one of them said "my pleasure." The other one said, "No problem. Happens all the time." I'm thinking about having him fired. I mean everyone knows CFA employees are trained to say "my pleasure" no matter what is requested of them, and I think that should include cleaning up somebody else's crap. Geez.

So if you enjoyed this gross update - my pleasure.

If not, then at the very least, I hope I made you feel better about your own life.

Happy Father's Day!!

Happy Father's Day to all the Awesome father's I know.

To my own Dad - who is hands down one of the funniest people I've ever met and would do anything to help his kids out;

To my husband's dad - who is always up for an adventure and knows how to spoil the kids rotten with donuts, pancakes, and boating adventures;

And to the one who shares every single day of this parenting adventure with me. The one who knows when they need a firm hand or a good laugh. The one who always has their very best interests at heart. Most importantly, the one who makes sure they hear about the one true Dad so that their faith will grow as they do.

Happy Father's Day to all the hard working father's out there.

You guys rock!

Happy One Year Anniversary, O-Dawg

I know, I know, to others this may seem like a strange date to celebrate something, but to me, June 13th has a lot of significance. It was Owen's first day at St. Joseph's. It was the beginning of a long journey for our whole family, and looking back, it was proof that God hears us and answers us.

And since I have the memory of a gnat, here are some examples of how many prayers God answered this year so one day when Owen asks about all this, I'll have proof written down. Otherwise I would probably say something like...."Yeah, I think maybe you had some trouble eating when you were little, but I don't really remember now. I remember you went to the doctor once or twice and then it was fine......Oh and it seems like we went to New York too. But that was probably just to see a play or something......"  Seriously. Moms forget these things. I believe God created us this way so we could forget all the crazy and continue procreating without having to be committed. If you don't believe me, ask your mom about raising you and your siblings and see if you find any discrepancies between her memories and yours. (No offense, Mom.)  :)

So anywho.....Answered Prayers:

Prior to June 13th, Owen was usually hanging out below the 3rd percentile and only ate about 5-7 baby foods. Now he hovers around the 10th percentile (and hopefully still growing) and eats a well balanced diet.

In the past year, we went from virtually no foods, to baby foods, to pureed table foods, to a diet that now consists of all solids and chewables.

In the past year he has gone from not knowing how to chew and swallow and feed himself to now feeding himself about 97% of the time. I don't remember the last time he gagged or threw up. Seriously. The fact that I can't recall the last time I had to catch vomit during a meal to keep it from ruining the food on his plate is a miracle. I know. Gross, right? Just keepin' it real, yo.

One year ago we watched him struggle through every meal and every OT/PT session, and now he sails through most meals and OT sessions. He gets good reports almost every week at OT. He transitions much easier and he loves to play in sand and water and is learning to try new things. He walks barefoot now. Barefoot. Like I'm talking without socks or shoes. Not for long periods of time, but he does it. He no longer gets out of bed to put shoes on while he sleeps. He is starting to make better eye contact with people and his conversation skills are evolving. 

One year ago we were exhausted mentally and physically.  Exhausted. Drained to the point that some of us me had to go on meds to help cope with everyday life. We trusted God, but every day was a tiresome battle that felt endless. Today we still have our good days and our bad days, but our good days are ever increasing. We don't know what lies ahead with schools and IEP's and we know we still have a lot to learn, but overall, life is much more peaceful and calm. Knock on wood.

One year ago we prayed for Owen to come off all the strong medications that altered his personality. Now he is off all but two. And the two he continues to take are the milder ones.

One year ago we prayed for him to eat a burger.
Okay, aside from a few force-fed bites, God hasn't gotten to that one yet, but we're working on it. And honestly, the cows are probably happier anyways.

So yes, June 13th is a big day in this house. St. Joseph's holds a special place in our hearts.  Early Intervention holds a special place in our hearts. Therapists (like Ms. Ashley, and Ms. Jessica, and Ms. Sara, and my sister) who spend their lives trying to help kids like Owen hold a special place in our hearts. People like you who follow this blog and have prayed with us and for us hold a special place in our hearts.

Can't wait to see what God has in store for our lil' man next year.

Whatever it is, I'm sure it will be to His glory and His faithfulness.

Ooops

Remember the time you were downloading pics off your camera from the church picnic the night before?

And then remember when a bunch of photos showed up that you didn't recall taking?

And then remember when you realized they were from your child's sixth birthday gathering and you never blogged about it because you left town that very night after the party?

Nope?

Oh.

I remember that.

Happy Very Belated Blog Update to my Sweet Sweet Six Year old!

You are so loved! Even when I forget to update my blog, you are loved. I'm glad you came into this world and into my life. I couldn't ask for a funnier, sweeter son.

PS - Could you please slow down on this whole growing thing?

Whole Foods...aka My Own Personal Hell

It's the first day of summer here and we had to venture out to Whole Foods.

I swear demons camp among the aisles of the organic, healthy, allergen free foods and attack my children the second our feet cross the threshold, thereby turning them each into some variant reincarnation of the devil himself.

Today, Emma Grace became the Pouty Devil, complete with real tears and shoe stomping along the floor so that everyone could hear her coming from a mile away. And lest anyone mistakenly misinterpret her misery at grocery shopping versus swimming, she also crossed her arms and sighed multiple times, each sigh gaining in both longevity and volume. It was a performance worthy of an Oscar.

Isaac became the Monkey Devil who climbed anything that was climbable until he was practically hanging from the rafters on the ceiling and eating bananas.

And Owen was the Pissy Devil. Because he pissed everywhere. Twice. And then he screamed because each incident involved changing into shorts he detested.

And now we're home. 

And they've been sent to their rooms to wait patiently for the priest to come perform the exorcisms. 

And I've decided that a grocery store that is stocked full of natural foods that are supposedly great for the physical body is actually quite damaging to the soul.

 (Pic from The Exorcist)  

What the Crap?

Well we have entered into my most dreaded part of parenting.

Toilet Training.

And even though I've done this twice, this time is totally different. 

And technically, I don't even take credit for training Emma Grace because I think it would be better to call it mentally scarring her for the remainder of her life. We barely survived it and I'm pretty sure her toilet training experience set her up for years of future therapy. In a nutshell, let's just say she learned that intentional "accidents" annoyed me to no end and she put that knowledge to good use. Including the time she was mad at me and stood up in the booth at Moe's, looked right at me, and peed all over the place. Luckily Todd was there to save her life. And luckily we learned that she didn't like to sit in soiled undies so that phase soon ended. I probably shouldn't have blogged about that. Maybe she's forgotten and won't need the therapy until she's reading this one day. Sorry Diva. What can I say? You were my first. One day when you're a mom, you'll learn that the first has a distinct disadvantage of parents learning as they go along. I'll cover your therapy costs.

Isaac was easy peasy. I was so over toilet training at that point that I pretty much didn't care if he went to college in diapers. Luckily for him and his future college roommates, he cared. He pretty much took it on himself when I was about 7 months pregnant and got it done.  After about three days, he was good to go.

And that brings us to child number three. The one with SPD. Here's just a little blip of an article that may help you understand why this time is completely different:

"If an SPD child literally cannot feel sensations from his bowel and/or bladder, or the sensory receptors of this interoceptive sense are not picking up or interpreting messages properly (over or under responsive), the child will not know when/if they have to go the bathroom, or how to effectively control their bowel/bladder muscles for elimination. Their bodies truly do not give them the proper input or signals necessary for effective potty training. It is the same general concept that underlies SPD... the sensory input, neurological organization, or sensory motor output are inefficient."

Yup. You catch all that?

Here it is in a nutshell:

Owen's brain doesn't always send his body the right signals which sucks and slows down his response times. For example, in conversation, it takes him a longer amount of time to process what is being said to him and an even longer time to formulate his response. And sometimes that response has nothing to do with the initial inquiry. And physically, he is just now learning how to walk upstairs one foot at a time or climb into his chair and try to push it up to the table himself, etc. Having his hair brushed hurts and feeling hot or cold distresses him to no end. And don't even get me started on the tip of a shoelace rubbing against his leg. Based on his reaction, it must feel like he's being stabbed repeatedly while simultaneously catching on fire and having all his hairs pulled out of his head one at a time.

So based on all this and the fact that the majority of the time his brain doesn't tell his body when he needs to eliminate, and even when it does, it may not tell his muscles how to eliminate properly.....why are we attempting potty training?! Because we're stupid and crazy. And because he wants to wear underwear like his brother and his friends. And I don't blame him. So we're giving it a shot with absolutely zero expectations. It's more about me taking him at timed intervals than about him "feeling" it and that makes it different and difficult, but the kid doesn't get to eat anything fun and most of his clothes annoy the snot out of him so if Batman underwear makes him feel like a happy, typical big boy, then Batman underwear it is.

And it has given us a few laughs. Like this morning when he was having trouble and I turned the bathroom light on and he asked if "lights help pee pee come out?"

Or yesterday when I went to start cooking dinner and found this:

(I have no idea. But at least they were dry.....)

Here's my boy working hard in the ball pit at therapy to help those neurological connections. He truly has come so far this year!

And that's the end of my long rant on disgusting topics. You may now return to your normal lives that don't involve way too much information about bodily elimination.

You're Welcome.

(PS - I have no idea what's up with the different fonts on this post.)

Emma Grace and Lainey

Here's a pic of Emma Grace and Lainey.

No wait.

That would be me and my sister.

Dang, our daughters look like us.

Similar age difference and everything.

And since they each only have brothers, I hope they will one day be close friends.

We'll definitely be reenacting this picture with them at the beach this summer.

In five weeks and four days. But who's counting?

Woot Woot.

(PS - Even as a young child living in TX, I was obviously NC State bound....)