Tag Archives: Bedwetting

Day 10

Posted on October 25, 2011 | 3 Comments

Riding the wave of my previous day’s success, I fully expected to come home last night to find Emma agreeable to whatever was placed on her plate.  With visions of cheerful family dinners in my mind I set about making Hollandaise Sauce (with those duck eggs and Ghee).  Making hollandaise is a meditative endeavor, I’ve learned.  I cannot carry on a conversation with someone else while preparing it.  I must be focused, attentive with a certain amount of serenity or the whole thing curdles or separates.  I didn’t have any lemons, so I used a lime instead and all went fairly well, though it wasn’t as thick as the hollandaise I usually am able to whip up.  I steamed the asparagus, cooked the salmon steaks, drizzled everything with hollandaise and called everyone to the table where upon Emma took one look at her miniscule serving and said, “No!  I don’t want to taste it.  It’s okay.  It’s okay.  Just lick it.  You have to put your finger in it to taste.  Just one bite.  Taste it.  I don’t want to taste it!  I don’t like this.”  And then she began to whimper.

It was one of those Sybil moments, with Emma scripting using her “stern” voice, then mimicking a TA at her school to take one bite, just one bite, then Emma’s own sad voice pleading and on it went.  Finally I said, “Em you have to taste it, then you can have some grapes and apple (skinned).

“Okay, okay, okay,” she said, dipping her finger into the hollandaise.  ”Taste it!”  She smelled the hollandaise, then tentatively licked her finger before looking at me with an expression of pure misery.  ”I don’t like it, Mommy.  I don’t like this.”

My family dinner a la Norman Rockwell fantasy fizzled and I felt an overwhelming desire for someone to come and feed her for a month or two – get her eating a whole variety of lovely, nutritional foods before disappearing again.

Later Nic came over to me and put his arms around me.  ”Hey Mom?”

“Yeah Nic?”

“I don’t mind this diet so much.  I still get to eat all my favorite things.”  He smiled at me.

“Oh, Nic.  That’s so nice of you.  You’ve been such a trooper with all of this.”  I gave him a hug.  ”Thanks for being such a good sport.  It means a lot to me.”

“It’s no problem, Mom.”

This morning as I made my way to my studio I thought about when we tackled Emma’s bedwetting.  We did our homework, found an alarm to alert us to when she’d peed, whereupon we rushed her to the bathroom and eventually she was out of diapers, sleeping through the night with no accidents.  All of that seems like ages ago, but in fact it was just over a year now.  It took three solid months before she learned to use the toilet without incident during the night.  I expect it will take that much time or longer for her to become accustomed to eating new and different foods.

For more on Emma’s journey through a childhood of autism, go to:   www.EmmasHopeBook.com

→ 3 Comments

Posted in Autism, Bedwetting, diets

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A Look Back and Then Forward – Autism

Posted on July 11, 2011 | 1 Comment

A follower of Emma’s Hope Book asked me about Emma’s use of the ipad.  In responding to her question, I went back to look at a post I’d written for both this blog as well as the Huffington Post last fall regarding Emma’s love of her ipad.  Last Friday when I wrote about this I promised myself to make a revised list of dreams for Emma.  Sadly I haven’t included her dreams for herself, as I’m sure if she could tell me what they were, they would be enlightening and probably quite different from my own.

Begin reading chapter books.

Become more proficient in handwriting.  Continue learning punctuation.

Learn to type using all fingers from both hands.

Beginning math.  Basic concepts – identify more and less.

Tell time on analog as well as digital clock.

Answer “why” questions.

Increase ability to tolerate new things.

Able to take shower, wash hair and dry herself independently.

Last year at this time we were in the midst of our “bedwetting saga“.  In an attempt to get Emma out of diapers and with the hope she might sleep through the night, we implemented an anti bedwetting campaign which took her and us until the fall to complete.  It was a huge accomplishment, one I’d all but forgotten about until I began rereading older posts of a year ago.  I remember, while in the midst of it, wondering what we would do if we couldn’t get her out of diapers.  Where would we find diapers large enough, but not too large that they didn’t leak during the night?  Since last year, a couple of companies have come out with diapers specifically designed for older children.  Never-the-less I am enormously relieved that Emma sleeps through the night now without wetting her bed.  Unless one has experienced the distress which comes from having a child older than five continuously wet their bed, it’s difficult to imagine what it’s like.

Since January, 2011 we have been fully engaged in our literacy program for Emma.  Dr. Marion Blank, who created the Reading Kingdom among other programs is a remarkable woman who has devoted her life to creating reading and writing programs for children.  She has had tremendous success with her literacy program designed specifically for children on the spectrum.  It is with her program, more than any other, that has given us hope that Emma will one day read and write fluently.

Emma’s handwriting from yesterday’s literacy session.

Had someone shown me this example of her writing and cognition a year ago, I would have been ecstatic.

I have always felt and continue to believe, Emma is extremely bright.  I would go so far as to say she is brilliant.  I don’t mean that in a kind of motherly-prideful-utterly-biased way.  I mean that I believe Emma is truly brilliant.

Yesterday while in Central Park, Emma wanted to watch the Delacorte Musical Clock strike 3:00PM.  Every half hour the clock, near the entrance to the Children’s Zoo, plays a series of tunes which change with the seasons while it’s bronze animals, a hippo, an elephant, a kangaroo, a penquin and a bear circle around the clock tower playing their instruments.  Two monkeys sit atop banging the bronze bell with small bronze hammers.

The Delacorte Clock in Central Park

Before the music began Emma said, “Watch clock then go see penguins.”

“No Em.  After this we have to do our grocery shopping and then we need to go home,” we told her.

To which Emma began to fret.  This was not how she wanted the rest of the day to go.  After the clock comes the penguins and after seeing the penguins, we must watch the seal who is old and almost completely blind, then off to the bat cave and then to watch the sea lions being fed.  Only then may we leave the park and go home.  Only we couldn’t do that yesterday, it was already getting late, Nic was off with a friend and would be coming home soon, one of us needed to be home when he arrived, etc.

“Em, try to enjoy the clock, it’s about to start,” I said.

“Both.  You have to ask Mommy.  Mommy!  Mommy I want to go see the penguins please.  No!  I’m sorry.  Mommy says no!”  She began to cry and scream.

When the animals began to parade around the clock tower Emma stopped crying and watched and after ten minutes or so of upset and by the time we’d gotten to the subway entrance she turned to us and said, “Go with Daddy to Seal Park?”

“Sure Emma.  I can take you to Seal Park while Mommy shops.”

And it was over.  Emma happily rode the subway with us, went with her dad to the park where I eventually went to meet them.  This was a terrific example of Emma getting past her upset in a relatively short period of time.

Emma waiting for the musical clock to begin.

For more on Emma’s journey through a childhood of autism and to read more about her literacy program, go to:  www.EmmasHopeBook.com

→ 1 Comment

Posted in Autism, Bedwetting, reading & writing

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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

→ Leave a comment

Posted in Autism, Bedwetting, Sleep Issues

Tagged , , , , ,

The BS (Bedwetting Saga) Continues – Part IV

Posted on July 22, 2010 | Leave a comment

“What do you think?” Richard asked me as he loaded soiled bedding, mattress covers and Emma’s nightgown into the washing machine.  “Have any theories?”

“I’m all out,” I said.  “No theories.  And I really need a theory here, it’s driving me crazy.”

“I think she’s forgotten,” Richard said.

‘Really?” I asked.  “I don’t get it.  She was doing great and now this is the third night in a week.  Last night she set off the alarm twice.  It just doesn’t make sense.”

“You’re trying to make sense out of autism?”

“Right,” I said.

“I think we have to go back to the basics, do the whole fire drill before she goes to sleep, remind her about the alarm and what she needs to do when it goes off, really make a big deal when she gets through the night without wetting the bed, the whole thing,” Richard said.

“Okay,” I said.  “She’s forgotten,” I added, thinking of all the times we thought Emma had learned something only to find she had not.

When Emma was about 18 months old we use to spend most afternoons in various parks.  A couple of my friends had young children around Nic and Emma’s age and so we would meet.  The children would play, or I should say Nic would, while Emma would perseverate on some self-made routine; the swing, the slide, run around the perimeter of the playground three times, back to the swing, the slide, over and over again until it was time to leave.  I had three girl friends I saw regularly and a couple of others not as often.  But the three I saw several times a week, Emma would often behave as though she’d never seen them before.  It was the kind of eccentricity I chalked up to Emma’s incredibly independent and uninhibited nature.  Emma did not care what others thought of her, did not look to either Richard nor I for approval, was a “wild child” in her own little “hippy dippy” world as I use to describe her.

Emma’s peculiarities went beyond face recognition, she knew her own name when she was 18 months old, but a few months later seemed to have forgotten it.  The same went with colors.  At one point she knew all the names of the primary colors, but then at her special-ed preschool I was told she didn’t know any colors by name.  We have seen this inability to generalize information displayed in dozens of different instances over the years.

I mentioned in a previous post, when we were using ABA (Applied Behavioral Analysis) with Emma she could recite each and every one of the 400 flash cards correctly, but when it came to using the information she had learned in the world, she was unable to do so.  She readily told me the flashcard with the picture of the bicycle was a bike, but if we were walking on the sidewalk and I pointed to a bicycle, she was unable to identify it.

I remember when she was three, her ABA based preschool taught her to recite her name and address.  For a month she proudly recited the information when asked.  But when her teachers moved on to something else and then a few months later asked her for her name and address, Emma didn’t remember what it was she was suppose to say.

When we met Stanley Greenspan who developed the DIR (Developmental Individual Difference Relationship) model we learned more about autism and how so many children on the spectrum have trouble generalizing learned information.

“There’s nothing wrong with her memory,” Stanley said to us when we were in Bethesda training with him.  “She has a terrific memory.  She doesn’t know why this information is significant.   It’s not meaningful to her.  Your job is to make it meaningful,” he told us.

So how do we make our anti bedwetting campaign meaningful to her?  We will need to do as Richard suggested.  We have to go over everything the night before, make sure she understands what it is we’re trying to do and why.  We need to make a huge show of enthusiasm and unbridled excitement when she has a dry night.  Or as Stanley Greenspan use to encourage us – use high affect and take it up a few notches.  Emma loves a big display, so even if one is tired and has low energy if we ‘act as if’ she won’t care, as long as it’s full of loud cheering and jumping up and down, she’ll be ecstatic.

And who knows?   It may even work.

→ Leave a comment

Posted in ABA, Autism, Bedwetting, DIR - Floortime, Parenting, Stanley Greenspan

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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.

→ Leave a comment

Posted in Autism, Bedwetting, Marriage, Parenting, Siblings, Sleep Issues

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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.

→ Leave a comment

Posted in Autism, Parenting, Sleep Issues

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

An Addendum

Posted on July 13, 2010 | 1 Comment

Last night Emma thoroughly soaked the bed at around 4:30AM.  It was a grand gesture.   Of course, as Richard had pointed out on more than one occasion, I was ‘flying without a net’ and therefore utterly unprepared for the great flood.  In fact, did not even realize she wet the bed until about ten minutes afterward when I felt her naked body snuggling up against mine in a desperate attempt to flee the growing pool of urine soaked sheets.  Her soaked nightgown tossed on the floor lay in a heap.

“Oh dear!” I said to no one in particular when I realized what had happened.

“Emma wet the bed,” Emma responded, nodding her head up and down.  Then she leaped up and turned on all the lights.  Whether this was an indication that she was now wide awake or as a means of further investigation, I could not be sure.

“No, no Emma.  We are going to go back to sleep,” I said, pulling soiled sheets from the bed and throwing random towels and ‘water proof’ pads down.  In my head I imagined Richard’s voice admonishing me, “Oh, so now you decide to use the waterproof pads.”

Emma watched me.  “Turn off the lights?”  She asked.

“Yes,” I said.  “Let’s go back to sleep.”

“Time to go to sleep,” She agreed, before turning off the lights.

A few hours later when it was time to wake up, Emma said, “Hi Mommy!”

“Good morning Emma,” I said giving her a kiss.

“Have to use the toilet,” Emma said.  “You cannot pee in the bed!”

“It’s okay, Em.  You had an accident.  But we’ll put the alarm on before you go to sleep tonight,” I said.

“You have to wear the alarm.  You have to put the alarm on,” Emma said.

“That’s right.  No big deal, Em.”

“No!  You have to pee in the toilet!”  Emma said sternly as though she were taking on the role of the bad cop in “good cop, bad cop”.

“That’s right.  We pee in the toilet.”

And then I remembered I had forgotten to have Emma “double void” last night before she went to sleep.  “Double void” is an expression used in the  “Seven Steps to Nighttime Dryness” booklet.  It refers to the process of peeing once before bed, then brushing teeth, washing ones face, going through ones regular bedtime routine before peeing once more just before getting into bed to go to sleep.  The booklet instructs, “Many parents, upon learning about the benefits of urinating twice before bedtime, report they have consistently done this for years.  You can teach you child to make “double voiding” part of his lifelong bedtime routine.”

“I forgot to tell you to go pee before you went to bed last night,” I said.

Emma looked at me and said, “It’s okay.  It’s okay.”

As I was shoving the sheets into the washing machine, Emma pointed to them and said, “Now the sheets take a bath.”

I laughed.  “That’s right Em.  The sheets need to be washed.”

Emma nodded her head and smiled at me. “Bye, bye sheets,” She said.

→ 1 Comment

Posted in Autism, Bedwetting

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Final Chapter (I hope) in the Bedwetting Saga

Posted on July 12, 2010 | Leave a comment

We returned to New York City Friday evening and I am pleased to announce my theories have all been proven wrong.  Emma has not wet the bed once in 17 nights!  This morning I looked at the “bedwetting chart” to make sure I was remembering correctly.  It took just over two weeks – exactly 16 nights – for Emma to stop wetting the bed using the Malem Alarm.  (See all “bedwetting posts” for full description on the process.)  The booklet, which came with the alarm, warned it takes on average three months for a child Emma’s age to completely stop wetting the bed.  When I read that I thought, okay add another three months because she’s autistic.  While it felt like a huge commitment on our part, it seemed well worth it in the long run and so we launched in.  Fully prepared for six months of sleepless nights, groggy, non-productive days with only a glimmer of hope weakly encouraging us to go another day.  Because we couldn’t know Emma would be able to train her muscles even after six months.  The autistic diagnosis throws everything into question.

I cannot tell if Emma takes any pride in the fact that she is now a “big girl” no longer in need of those dreaded diapers.  I cannot tell if she understands the significance.  Each morning Richard and I have said, “Emma!  You did it!  You slept without wetting the bed!”  And then we clapped and cheered while Emma smiled at us and repeated, “You did it!”

For those interested… we used the Malem Alarm purchased from www.bedwettingstore.com

We opted for the recordable alarm that allows you to record your own voice as opposed to the “car alarm” beeping noise, which we thought might frighten her.  (Though our prerecorded voice was pretty terrifying when repeated over and over again.)  We also purchased the booklet and “waterproof pads” (not fully waterproof) for the mattress.

→ Leave a comment

Posted in Autism, Bedwetting

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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.

→ 1 Comment

Posted in Aspen, Autism, Bedwetting, Marriage, Parenting, Sleep Issues

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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.

→ Leave a comment

Posted in Aspen, Autism, Bedwetting, Parenting, Sleep Issues

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,