Category Archives: Sleep Issues

The Elusive Pronoun

Posted on September 29, 2010 | Leave a comment

Autistic children are known to have trouble with pronouns.  It is not simply mixing up “you” and “me”, but all pronouns; he, she, her, his, I, you, me, we, us…  There are theories regarding this confusion.  One such theory from Simon Baron-Cohen who coined the phrase “mindblindness” suggests autistic children have trouble self differentiating and therefore become confused when confronted with pronouns.  He has since amended his theory, suggesting autism is a form of “male brain” or empathizing-systemizing (E-S) theory.  He goes on to explain that autism is a series of deficits and delays in empathy.

As with all things “autistic”, it’s a theory.

Last night Emma came into our room at 2:30AM.

“C’mon Em.  You have to go back to your bed,” I told her.

“Mommy come.  You have to ask Mommy.  Mommy can I get you come into the other room?” Emma said, sadly.

“I’m going to go with you.  Come on.  Let’s go back to your bed,” I said, holding her hand.

I tucked Emma into bed and sat next to her, stroking her head.  “Now Em, you need to try to go to sleep.  You need to go to sleep and stay in your own bed until it’s light out.  Then you can come into my room.”

Emma took her hand and gently pressed it to my cheek, “You,” she said.  Then she took my hand and pressed it to her cheek, “Me,” she said.

“That’s right, Emmy!  You,” I pressed our hands to her mouth, “and me,” I said, holding our hands to my face.  This is going better than I expected, I thought. “I’m going to go back to bed, Em.  You have to stay here and try to go back to sleep, “ I explained.

“Okay,” Emma said.

I stood up.

“No!  You and me!” Emma cried.

And then I understood.  She was telling me she wanted me to stay with her.  I had assumed she was showing me she understood the correct use of the words, “You” and “Me.”  It was an interesting moment, with me taking her words literally, and Emma trying desperately to convey her upset and desire for me to stay with her.

“Okay, Em,” I said.  “But I’m really tired.  I have to get some rest,” I tried to explain.

“It’s okay,” Richard said, appearing at the door.  “You go ahead.  I’ll stay with her.”

“Mommy stay with Emma!” Emma said tearfully.

“Mommy has to go to sleep, Em,” I reminded her.

“Okay,” Emma said.  With that she got up and raced past both Richard and me to our bedroom.

“It’s okay,” Richard said with a resigned tone.  “Go with her, I’ll stay here.”

This morning as we went through the motions of getting breakfast for the children, checking backpacks, I said to Richard, “And how long did it take you to fall back asleep?”

“Oh, about an hour and a half,” he said.

“Yup!  Em and me too,” I answered with feigned cheeriness.

“Looks like a beautiful day,” Richard commented, glancing out the window.

“Another gorgeous day,” I agreed.

“Fake it til you make it,” Diane Von Furstenberg told an audience member at the WIE Symposium a few weeks ago.

It’s all in ones perspective.

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“Let’s Talk to Her”

Posted on September 22, 2010 | 1 Comment

Making the decision to talk with Emma about something has not been a consideration until recently.   For those of you who are loyal followers of this blog you might be caught off guard by the hopeful tone to this first sentence.  If so, you’re right.  It’s all part of the roller coaster ride we’re on.  Feeling despair, feeling hopeful, feeling despair, feeling hopeful…  Like some sort of Möbius strip, we twist and turn.  Someone said to me once:  feelings aren’t facts.  I try to remember that when I am feeling gloomy and attempt to forget it when I’m optimistic.

Fact:  Emma waking in the middle of the night disrupts the entire family.   Richard and I decided a few weeks ago we would try talking with her about it with varying degrees of success.  See What Now? , Wake Up and Good Bye Diapers! The fact that we had even one night without the sound of her mind-numbing shrieks or her stealthily crawling into our bed at 2:00AM was progress.  So last night I decided to spend some time going over what I hoped she would be able to understand.

“Em, it’s time to get ready for bed,” I began.

“Go to sleep now,” Emma said, nodding her head.

“Yes, and when you go to sleep you stay in your own room,” I waited for a response.

“Okay, Emma?  You have to stay in your bedroom all night.  You cannot wake Mommy and Daddy,” I waited for some indication of understanding.  When there was none, I added, “You have to wait until it’s no longer dark.  If you wake up in the middle of the night you look out your window.  If it’s still dark you stay in your own bed and go back to sleep.”

“Go into Nic’s room,” Emma whispered.

“No, Em.  You stay in your own bed,” I explained.

“You have to wait,” Emma said, nodding her head up and down.

“That’s right, Em,” I smiled at her and kissed her forehead.

“You have to pull on Mommy’s robe.  Mommy can I come get you into the other room?”  Emma said.

“No, Em.  You wait until it’s light out.  Then you can come into Mommy’s room.”

“You have to wait,” Emma said again.

I continued to go over the plan with her, step by step.  I attempted to explain the need for her to try and go back to sleep if she woke up in the middle of the night, the importance of staying in her own bed.  I even went over breathing techniques to help her if she began to get upset and wanted to wake us.  Emma nodded her head throughout all of this and interjected with things like, “Mommy’s so upset” and  “You cannot wake Mommy”.

“You’re beating a dead horse,” Richard would have said had he been there to witness the ‘conversation’.  I stopped talking, unsure if any of what I said had been understood.

When it was 6:30AM and Emma had not appeared, I smiled as I readied myself for the day.  By 6:50AM and still no Emma I congratulated myself on a job well done.   As I made my way out to the kitchen I paused at Emma’s room and peeked in.  Her bed, a crumple of sheets, duvet tossed on the floor, pillows scrunched into the corner, looking as though a brawl had broken out, was empty.  I opened the door to Nic’s room and saw Emma snuggled up to her brother fast asleep.

Nic woke with a start and groaned.

“Hey Nic.  Are you okay?” I asked.

“No,” he moaned.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Emma!  She kept me up all night.  I’m so tired,” he said.

“Oh, Nic, I’m so sorry.  Was she awake a long time?”

“I don’t know, she kept going like this,” he said putting his hand over my mouth.  “And then when I ignored her, she’d do this,” he demonstrated by pushing my forehead with the palm of his hand.

“Nicky, I’m so sorry.  I told her not to wake us, so she woke you instead.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Nic said looking up at me blearily.

“Ach”, I muttered under my breath.  “Next time come get me, okay?  I’ll get her out of your room,” I said.

“Yeah, okay Mom,” Nic said.

As I rode the subway to my studio I consoled myself with the thought that even though I feel terrible for Nic that Emma woke him, it is an enormous sign of progress she understood at least part of the message I tried to convey to her last night.

I will speak with Emma again tonight.  Maybe she’ll understand the entire message.

Who knows?  .

As my brother Andy says, “Who knows anything?”

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Wake Up

Posted on September 15, 2010 | Leave a comment

5:18AM – High-pitched screams emanated from Emma’s room waking us.

“I cannot believe this,” I said.

Richard groaned in response.

“Sometimes I think she reads our blog,” I said, referring to yesterday’s post.

Richard groaned again and turned over.

“Emma!  You cannot lie in here screaming,” I said when I went into her bedroom.

“Emma bit.  You cannot bite.  It’s not okay,” Emma cried.

“Emmy, did you bite yourself?”

“Yeah,” Emma said, sadly.  “You make Mommy so upset.  Mommy is angry.”

“Oh Em.  You can’t lie in your room screaming,” I said, stroking her bitten arm.

“You have to get Mommy.  Mommy, can I come into the other room now?” Emma asked.

What was incredible about this conversation was not only did Emma identify emotions (mine, not hers), she also asked whether she could come into our room.  I do not remember her ever asking before.  Typically she says, “Mommy come!” or “Mommy go in other room” or some variation of the two.

As we made our way back into Richard and my bedroom I reminded myself that at least she slept through the night until after 5:00AM.  The 2:00AM wake-up calls are, by far, the worst.  In addition Emma did not wet the bed, an added bonus I am grateful for.

After breakfast Emma took my breath away by saying, “Mommy take Emma’s picture?”

“Really?” I asked.  ”You want me to take your picture?”

“YES!” Emma shouted, jumping up and down.

“Okay, Em,” I said laughing.  ”Do you like having your picture taken?”

“Yes!”  Emma said again, smiling at me.  “Say cheese!” she laughed, posing for the camera.

For more on just how extraordinary this is, go to: Emma and The Camera

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Good Bye Diapers!

Posted on September 14, 2010 | 1 Comment

Richard and I made the decision in early June to get Emma out of diapers at night.  For a more thorough rendering of how this decision was made see: “Sleep” and “Sleep Issues (Part II)”.

On June 9th, 2010 we began our “anti-bedwetting campaign”.   See:  “Bedwetting”.  Little did we know our campaign would become “The Bedwetting Saga”.  See:  “The Bedwetting Saga” for more on this.  However, now over three months later, I feel it is safe to declare Emma diaper free.  Not only has she not wet her bed in several months, she is now sleeping in her own bed AND sleeping through the night.  As I write this I wonder whether I am incurring the wrath of vengeful gods – whom I do not believe in – but who still manage to worm their way into my thinking.  Such a declaration, after all, carries with it the risk of being proven wrong.  So be it.

Over the weekend, Emma found a stray diaper and said gleefully, “Emma put on diaper?”

“Who do you want to put the diaper on?” I asked.

“Emma put diaper on monster?” She said.

“Oh!  Good idea, Em,” I said.

Emma Diapering her Monster

Emma With Her Diapered Monster

“How about your doll?” Richard asked.

Neither of us has been able to figure out why Emma is drawn to monsters more than dolls, but she is.  Perhaps monsters are less threatening to Emma. Much in the way autistic children do not like looking directly at people, perhaps a stuffed monster is less disconcerting.

“No!” Emma laughed.  “You cannot diaper the doll!”

“Sure you can.  Here.  Here’s a diaper for your doll,” Richard said, handing her the diaper.

“Emma wear a diaper?” Emma asked.

“No, Emma.  You don’t wear diapers anymore,” Richard reminded her.

“Diapers are for babies!” Emma said.  (Not sure where she heard this, as we’ve never said this to her.)

“That’s right Em.  You’re too big for a diaper,” I said.

When Richard and I took on this project, we knew it was going to take determination and fortitude.   When Emma passed the six-week mark without an accident, we wondered how we were going to transition her back into her own bed and out of ours.  We also wondered whether she would sleep through the night once in her own bed or begin waking up in the middle of the night and coming into our room as she had in the past.  We decided, with her increasing language, to try talking to her about it.  Richard came up with the idea of using her desire to take gymnastics at Chelsea Piers as an incentive.

“Emma, you’re going to sleep in your own bed tonight,” Richard began.

“Okay,” Emma said, though it wasn’t clear she was really listening or if she was whether she understood.

“You need to sleep in your own bed all night.  You can’t come into our bedroom until it‘s light outside and then you get to go to gymnastics,” Richard explained.

“Go to gymnastics!” Emma said, bouncing up and down with excitement.

“That’s right.  You sleep in your own bed and then you can go to gymnastics,” Richard repeated.

“Emma sleep in own bed.  You cannot wake Mommy.  Mommy come and get you in other room,” Emma said, doing her best to sort through what she was hearing.

“No.  You cannot get Mommy,” I said.

“You have to wait until the morning,” Richard added.

“Okay.  Sleep, wake up, make pancakes with Mommy, then go to gymnastics,” Emma said, before donning her earphones and turning on her ipod.

Richard and I looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders.  “Well, we’ll see how it goes, I guess.”

For the past three nights Emma has slept in her own bed and stayed there until at least 5:45AM.  Last night Emma slept until 6:18AM before waking us.

“Do you think we’ll ever need an alarm clock?” I asked Richard this morning.

“We have one,” he replied.

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The Bedwetting Saga Continues

Posted on July 21, 2010 | Leave a comment

Last night several interesting things occurred.  To begin, Emma asked to sleep in her own bed.  This was terrific news as you can imagine the difficulty a child sleeping in the parent’s bed presents, while one of the parents (Richard) is delegated to the child’s bed.  Forget about getting adequate sleep, the very arrangement is cause for grumpiness to all parties.   So Emma demanded she sleep in her own room.  Down went the ‘water proof” mattress cover, on went the alarm – she had wet our bed the past two nights in a row – and off Richard and I went to sleep in our own bed, even if for only a few hours.  Sure enough, Emma appeared by my bedside at 2:00AM.

The difference was, we were not woken by her screaming, “Mommy come! Mommy come!” which is typically what happens when she wakes in the middle of the night.  The wails increasing in volume and frequency with every second until one of us goes to console her.  If left ignored she will simply scream louder until Nic has woken up too.  No one could ever accuse Emma of being incapable of problem solving on a grand scale.

Last night, however, was different.  There were no screams, no tears, just a small body appearing at my side.  “Hi Mommy!”  She said when my eyes opened.

“Hey Em,” I said.

And then she ran off to go pee in the toilet, unprompted, while Richard made his way out of our bed and into hers.  Emma slipped under the covers next to me and eventually went back to sleep without soiling the sheets.

In the morning Merlin, no doubt, taking his revenge on Emma for threatening him with the washing machine yesterday woke her by meowing loudly in her ear and pawing at her nose to ensure she was fully awake and aware he required some attention.  Emma carelessly pushed him off the bed before rolling over and attempting to go back to sleep.  Merlin, not the least undone by her lack of affection, leaped back onto the bed and sat on top of her hip.

“Come on Em.  Time to get up and get ready for school,” I said.

“No,” Emma said, burrowing deeper under the covers.  “Make pancakes,” Emma said, hopefully.

“No pancakes today Em.  You have to get ready for school.  We don’t have time,” I said.

“Pancakes,” Emma said, whimpering quietly.

“No pancakes. How about cereal?” I asked.

“No, pancakes,”  Emma grumbled.

“Don’t you want some cereal?  I have to go to work soon, but I have time to get you some cereal,” I said.

“No!”

“Okay,” I said.

Five minutes later Emma appeared in the kitchen.  “Cereal?” She asked looking at Richard.

“Sure Emma.  Coming right up,” he said.

Before I left for work I looked at the bedwetting chart we’ve been keeping since June 9th when we began this whole thing.  After a rocky first two weeks, Emma has wet the bed three times in the last month and a half, with two of those times being this past week.

Go figure.

I’m all out of theories.

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Sleep

Posted on July 15, 2010 | Leave a comment

It has been reported 70% – 80% of children with autism suffer from irregular sleep patterns.   No one seems to know why autistic children have such a high rate of sleep disturbances, though there are some theories.  One theory is the hormone, melatonin is either lacking or in abundance in autistic children compared to their neuro-typical peers.

Over the years, Emma has had a variety of sleep difficulties.  These include everything from being unable to fall asleep until very late, to waking up at 3:00AM unable to fall back asleep until 5:30AM.  (I’ve written about many of these in previous posts. See Sleep and Sleep Issues Part II.)  For the last month we have been giving her melatonin at night, recommended by the neurologists we take her to.  It has been extremely effective in getting her to sleep at a reasonable hour and until last night, seemed to be helping her stay asleep as well.  However, last night broke all records.

Emma fell asleep at just after 8:00PM and then abruptly woke at just after midnight.  It wasn’t one of those groggy-fall-right-back-to-sleep awakenings, but a time-to-turn-on-all-the-lights-and-do-something awakenings.  Alert and ready for action, Emma first began to sing and then demanded pancakes.  In my exhausted state I had a moment when I actually wondered whether she had read my last post – Pancakes – on this blog.  Then I reminded myself she cannot consistently identify the letter p, much less read.

“Emma, it’s not time to get up,” I said.

“Go get Daddy, make pancakes?” Emma asked, though it was said as more of a statement than question.

“No pancakes, Em.  Sleep,” I said, at which point she began to whimper.

“Em, it’s really late.  It’s not time to get up.  It’s time to sleep,” I said.

“Take off alarm?” Emma said handing me the alarm I had pinned to her nightgown after the other nights deluge.

“No Em.  We need to keep the alarm on,” I said, fumbling with the safety pin and trying to put it back on as she fought me.

“No!  No alarm.  Go pee in the toilet,” Emma said and raced off to the bathroom where she peed.

As with so many things autistic, there was the good news and the bad news.  The good news was –  she woke up in the middle of the night and went to pee without prompting.  The bad news was she woke up in the middle of the night and was thoroughly awake, unable to go back to sleep.

“Great job peeing!” She prompted me as she got back into bed.

“Yeah, Em.  That was really great.  Can we go back to sleep now?” I asked.

“Time to turn on all the lights?” Emma said looking at me with a sly grin.

“No.  Definitely not time to turn on the lights.  Time to sleep,” I said.

At some point I must have dozed off as an hour later when I woke, Emma was sitting bolt upright on the edge of the bed, singing softly to herself.

“Pancakes?” Emma asked when she saw my eyes open.

“No Em.  Not til morning.  When it’s light out,” I added.

“Okay,” Emma said.

“How about some melatonin?” I asked.

“Okay,” Emma said.

I gave her half a dose, expecting her to fall back asleep, only she did not.  The melatonin, for once, did not seem to have any effect on her at all.

Eventually at 4:00AM Emma fell back asleep.  It was an exhausting night.

The good news:  she did not wet the bed, despite having removed the alarm and dumping both ‘water-proof’ mattress covers on the floor.

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Bedwetting (Part IV)

Posted on July 7, 2010 | 1 Comment

Emma has now successfully slept through the night without peeing for almost two weeks.  According to the booklet we received along with the alarm (see earlier bedwetting posts) entitled “Seven Steps to Nighttime Dryness – A Practical Guide for Parents of Children with Bedwetting” it is important to know when to stop using the alarm.  The booklet instructs:  “Before you stop using the alarm, your child should have 14 consecutive nights of dryness with nightly alarm use, and 14 additional dry nights using the alarm every other night.”

Well I don’t know about you, but this just seems like overkill to me.  Emma has gone 12 nights without bedwetting and if I’m honest, (which I’m about to be) she has only worn the alarm five or six times during those 12 nights.

“You’re totally flying without a net,” Richard said when I announced I just didn’t see the point of pinning the alarm onto her nightgown yet again.

“But she hasn’t wet the bed at all since we’ve been in Aspen,” I responded.

“Are you at least putting the pad down?” Richard asked.

I shook my head no.

“Are you insane?!” Richard asked.

“No,” I answered with a tinge of defensiveness.  “I have a theory about this.”

“You always have a theory,” he muttered.

I’m just going to interrupt this dialogue to say – one of the many wonderful things about family is they have to listen to ones theories.  I think it’s perhaps even part of US Policy on marriage and family or if it isn’t, it should be.  Theories are good, if for no other reason than it allows the other family members to tease the theorist later when their theory is proven wrong.  Which in my case is with frightening regularity.  But that doesn’t stop me from coming up with new ones.

“I have a theory,” I repeated, looking meaningfully at him.

“Okay.  Let’s hear it,” he said as my mother wandered into the kitchen joining us.

“Oh I love theories!” my mother added.

“Okay.  Ready?  Here it is,” I allowed for a dramatic moment of quiet to pass.  “She’s dehydrated out here and as a result she is hardly peeing at all, even during the day.”

“What?  You mean her kidneys are failing?” my mother asked with a look of concern.

“No, Mom!  I don’t mean it so literally.”

“But you just said she wasn’t peeing and you think she’s dehydrated,” my mother said.

“Okay, well not technically, but she isn’t drinking as much out here and therefore isn’t peeing as much either.”  I looked triumphantly from Richard to my mother.

Richard walked out of the room.

My mother watched him go and then said, “Where’s he going?”

“Richard hates my theories,” I answered.

“I love your theories,” Richard’s voice could be heard saying from another room.

A few days later after Emma and Richard had spent the entire day together, Richard said to me, “You know she’s been drinking apple juice and water all day.”

“Uh-huh,” I replied.

“Tons of liquids,” Richard said.

“Your point?” I asked, somewhat rudely.

“No point.  Just providing you with some facts.  Emma.  Consumption.  Lots of juice.  Lots of water. “

“Okay,” I conceded.  So maybe she’s not dehydrated.  Maybe it’s the altitude.”

“Basically you’re saying we hit on a free space while in Aspen, but she’ll start wetting the bed when we return back to New York.”

“Yup.  That’s what I’m thinking,” I replied.

“Huh,” Richard said.

So maybe I’m wrong about my theory.  At this point I hope I am.  And since this is now day 13 I’m keeping my fingers crossed that when we return to New York in another two days, I will be able to report an end, once and for all, to the bedwetting.   Regardless of my theories, Emma has done spectacularly well up to this point.  We are all so proud of her.

This, all of us, agree on.

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Bedwetting (Part III)

Posted on June 30, 2010 | Leave a comment

The night before I flew with Emma and Nic to Aspen, Emma had her first completely dry night since we undertook our anti bedwetting campaign, (June 9th) complete with alarm, waterproof cover sheets, her progress chart and gold star stickers.  Since we arrived Emma has not had a single accident.  This is nothing short of miraculous.  I am looking at her chart filled with notations, gold stars and she has managed five consecutive nights with no bedwetting.

Richard took over when I arrived, giving me a much needed break.  Each morning when Richard reported Emma had not set off the alarm, in fact had waited to pee until the morning or had woken up in the middle of the night, dashed off to pee in the toilet, then came back to bed and fallen asleep again…  I have to admit, I was a bit skeptical.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah!  She did great!”

“And she didn’t pee at all in the bed?”  I asked.

“That’s what I’m telling you.  Another dry night!  Amazing!!”  Richard could hardly contain his excitement.

“Wow!”  I said.  So last night I took over as I am taking a seminar beginning on Friday and thought I’d try to do a few nights before handing the reins back to Richard over the weekend.  I spent the night next to Emma.  Every time she stirred I woke up , ever vigilant and wondered whether she would set off the alarm.  But she didn’t.  At one point, it must have been around 2:30AM she stirred, rolled over and I said, “Do you have to pee?”

“No!” she said.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“No, Mommy!”  Emma muttered and fell back to sleep, as I lay awake watching her.

Someone once said to me during a difficult period in my life, “You have to get out of your own way.”

Now it seems I must learn to get out of Emma’s way.

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Pee Patrol

Posted on June 18, 2010 | Leave a comment

Dad here, reporting from the front lines of the anti-bedwetting campaign. Ariane had been doing bunkmate duty with Emma for the first six days, and though I had repeatedly offered to relieve her, she hung in there doggedly until I had to stage an intervention after Emma had her worst night since we started (with three changes of bedclothes). Another urgent factor behind me taking the reins was that I’m off to Colorado for a week before Ariane and the kids join me — and she’ll be flying solo every night while I’m gone.

“Take the help while you can get it,” I told her once again.

No argument this time.

The drill during the night is the same as Ariane wrote about earlier – the alarm is attached to her underwear before she falls asleep, and then at some time during the night she and I are awakened by my prerecorded voice shouting, “Emma, it’s time to go pee!” Then I groggily scramble around to her side of the bed, try to get her up and out of the bed asap to minimize the collateral damage. She gets the top sheet wet about half the time along with the blanket we put under her waterproof (not quite!) bedcover. The worst is when she wets the duvet. Lots of time in the dryer.

After the first two days on pee patrol I could really see why Ariane was so sleep deprived. It’s hard to have a decent snooze with one eye open waiting for the alarm to go off.  It made me think of a fireman sleeping in his big rubber boots ready to slide down the pole when the bell starts clanging.

Bottom line, I think Emma is doing great. All three nights she got up once and then didn’t have to go again until the morning. Wake-up time is even earlier than usual – between 4-5:30AM. But she takes off the alarm by herself, goes to the bathroom (with some urging) and then lays around in bed singing until she gets hungry.

She’s a real sport about the alarm and the bathroom scramble during the night too. No complaints, no crying or tantrums, though she does get upset if we can’t get the damn alarm to stop and we both wince from hearing my voice shouting over and over. After we change her bedclothes, nightshirt and underwear, the alarm has to be reattached to her underwear and I must admit I’m still pretty klutzy with it. Sometimes it’s taken me six or seven attempts before getting it on without reactivating the alarm. Interestingly, she took it away from me last night and got it right on her very first try.

Maybe she’s a savant with this stuff. The Princess and the Pee.

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The Bedwetting Saga

Posted on June 15, 2010 | Leave a comment

Over the weekend Emma had another successful night with no alarm sounding.  We celebrated her progress with stickers and lots of cheering.   However last night, for reason’s unknown, Emma peed, setting the alarm off twice at 1:28AM and again at 3:30AM only to rise fully awake and energized at 5:00AM.   At which time she insisted on listening to Mary Poppins on her Ipod while singing along to Chim Chimeree, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious among others and clapping.   Thankfully she has an angelic voice.

The challenges of parenting are always interesting, but the challenges in parenting a child with “disabilities” or as I like to think of them – different abilities – are that much more interesting.

I have a friend who had a child born with a wide variety of complications.  He was unable to lift his head, let alone walk or talk.  She used to tease me that I would call her to have lunch when I was feeling depressed.  And I would answer – You’re right!

As trite as it is to write – someone always has it worse.   Reminding myself pulls things back into perspective.   Yes I’m tired, but getting Emma out of diapers is something that will bring her one step closer to her neuro-typical peers.

Richard, who every night since we began this ‘project’ has volunteered to take over the bedwetting monitor position, will be taking the reins for the next few nights.  I cannot imagine trying to do this on one’s own.  And I am referring to all of it.

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