Celebrations of the Horrifying...and Horrifying the Celebrations

It's funny how the days go here in Autismland.

Just earlier this evening, my husband and I were celebrating (and laughing at) something the Professor did at school today.

Normally, I would be horrified by something like this, as I was two weeks ago, when my cousin recounted the story of her grandson at the ball field.  Seems that the grandson decided to tinkle in between innings...on the ball field...then proceeded to try and take a dump on said field.  She thought it was a case of "boys being boys", while I was silently shaking my judgmental head, glad that MY son would NEVER do such a thing.

Well, Karma has one hell of a bitchslap, but in this case that's OK...or, at first it was.

The Professor has so far refused to get with the Potty Training program.  He'd much rather go in his Pull Up then tell us he needs to go.  I'm not a big fan of the Naked Potty Theory, so we've muddled along thusfar.  We've only recently made the breakthrough of him being bothered of having a wet diaper and bringing us a diaper as if to say, "Yeah, I'd like a clean one of these, please."  We were hoping we were starting to see a flicker of light at the end of this very long tunnel.

Today, though, he decided that, not only did he need to go, but he needed to go NOW. So, he decided to drop trough and bless the sandbox during recess.  (Apparently, he's been watching the cat use her facilities and got a clue.  Had I realized she was his role model, I would have toilet trained HER.)

Like I said, normally I'd be horrified.  However, as with most other situations like this, we celebrated.  Why?  'Cause he was acting like a little man, that's why.  A normal, everyday, neurotypical, (albeit disgusting) little man.  It was a breakthrough. We were happy.

Until...

As I mentioned in the last post, he wakes up at night sometimes.  Tonight he was yelling (and of course woke his sister up.  Gee, thanks).  So, I go downstairs to find out the issue.  I thought he had a nightmare...until the smell hit me as I opened the door.

Oh, no. 

I went to check him when I saw it.  Not only did he poop in his Pull Up, he had decided to use it as a medium for him to recolor his sheets.  Streaks of the stuff all over.  Ugh.

Just I what love to do, give a child another full bath at 1:00 AM, then change his sheets and wash all the bedding.  Oh joy, oh rapture.

I was supposed to clean the cat's box tonight, but the hell with it.  I've seen enough poop for one night.