Our house is getting painted so the kids can't play outside due to the ladders. Yesterday we went to the zoo and today we went to a local pool and splash pad.
(And now there's the extra challenge of keeping them just busy enough that they're content to rest when home but not so busy that Jane gets overly tired because now I know that can bring on a yet-to-be-officially-diagnosed neurological episode.)
So I know Jane can develop tummy issues when she's stressed but she seemed to be okay after we returned from our mini-vacation last week. I guess not. Today at the pool she pooped herself. It's been months since she's done that. I chalk it up to constipation plus swimming? Who needs prunes when you've got a giant bath of warm salt-system water? Whatever works.
Luckily I'd packed extra clothes, even including an extra swimsuit, so I helped her get cleaned up and changed and we resumed play, but not before she and I had a talk about her being too old (turning 4 next month) to keep having these accidents. I told her she needed to tell me immediately if she needed to go again. It was a brief, calm moment in the bathroom stall as she was changing. No big deal.
About 45 minutes later I'm in the sand area with James while Gus is in the adjoining splash pad with Jane and Kate. I was only about 30 yards from Jane and she'd been walking to and from the sand area and splash pad all day.
I suddenly hear Gus screaming her name and look up to see her bolting away from him and straight towards the pool. She's making a beeline to nowhere and the deep end, with kids diving off the high dive, is right in front of her. Maybe a lifeguard blew a whistle? Maybe some sense of danger kicked in? Maybe someone just serendipitously blocked her path so that she swerved? I'll never know but she swerved to the right and got waylaid by rows of chairs so that Gus could catch up to her.
He brought her to me absolutely shaking in anger and horror. He felt terrible and kept saying over and over how he'd just looked away for a second...he was right there...how could she go so fast? He sounded like every parent who has ever lost their child; hard lessons for a 13-yr-old big brother to be learning. I manged to reassure him briefly before I had to hustle her off to the bathroom.
She was sobbing, drenched in tears and snot, and totally incoherent. We get to the bathroom and she hasn't even pooped herself. At all. She just thinks she might. She sat on the toilet for 15 minutes and produced almost nothing.
So, to recap: when scared or excited she has the reasoning power of a gnat, but is in the body of an athletic 4 yr old. She nearly drowned herself because she had the slight sensation that she might need to poop. And she couldn't find me, though I was in the same place I'd been for hours, a place that she'd walked to umpteen times that day.
In the pictures of today in half of them she's wearing pink trunks and in the other half she's wearing blue trunks. And nobody but me will know all the drama surrounding that wardrobe change.
Also, she was so over-stimulated by today that she was chewing on toys after we got home. I diagnosed her with a Sensory Integration Disorder (sensory-seeking) very soon after she came to live with us. I've taught her several coping strategies but a good consultation with an OT is on my list of things to discuss when we next see her neurologist.
(And now there's the extra challenge of keeping them just busy enough that they're content to rest when home but not so busy that Jane gets overly tired because now I know that can bring on a yet-to-be-officially-diagnosed neurological episode.)
So I know Jane can develop tummy issues when she's stressed but she seemed to be okay after we returned from our mini-vacation last week. I guess not. Today at the pool she pooped herself. It's been months since she's done that. I chalk it up to constipation plus swimming? Who needs prunes when you've got a giant bath of warm salt-system water? Whatever works.
Luckily I'd packed extra clothes, even including an extra swimsuit, so I helped her get cleaned up and changed and we resumed play, but not before she and I had a talk about her being too old (turning 4 next month) to keep having these accidents. I told her she needed to tell me immediately if she needed to go again. It was a brief, calm moment in the bathroom stall as she was changing. No big deal.
About 45 minutes later I'm in the sand area with James while Gus is in the adjoining splash pad with Jane and Kate. I was only about 30 yards from Jane and she'd been walking to and from the sand area and splash pad all day.
I suddenly hear Gus screaming her name and look up to see her bolting away from him and straight towards the pool. She's making a beeline to nowhere and the deep end, with kids diving off the high dive, is right in front of her. Maybe a lifeguard blew a whistle? Maybe some sense of danger kicked in? Maybe someone just serendipitously blocked her path so that she swerved? I'll never know but she swerved to the right and got waylaid by rows of chairs so that Gus could catch up to her.
He brought her to me absolutely shaking in anger and horror. He felt terrible and kept saying over and over how he'd just looked away for a second...he was right there...how could she go so fast? He sounded like every parent who has ever lost their child; hard lessons for a 13-yr-old big brother to be learning. I manged to reassure him briefly before I had to hustle her off to the bathroom.
She was sobbing, drenched in tears and snot, and totally incoherent. We get to the bathroom and she hasn't even pooped herself. At all. She just thinks she might. She sat on the toilet for 15 minutes and produced almost nothing.
So, to recap: when scared or excited she has the reasoning power of a gnat, but is in the body of an athletic 4 yr old. She nearly drowned herself because she had the slight sensation that she might need to poop. And she couldn't find me, though I was in the same place I'd been for hours, a place that she'd walked to umpteen times that day.
In the pictures of today in half of them she's wearing pink trunks and in the other half she's wearing blue trunks. And nobody but me will know all the drama surrounding that wardrobe change.
Also, she was so over-stimulated by today that she was chewing on toys after we got home. I diagnosed her with a Sensory Integration Disorder (sensory-seeking) very soon after she came to live with us. I've taught her several coping strategies but a good consultation with an OT is on my list of things to discuss when we next see her neurologist.
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