After five nights of being on the risperdal, we are seeing some amazing things.
He hopped off the couch, went to Twins Dad and said “Go Potty? Okay.” marking the very first time he’s ever initiated at home. I don’t think I can overstate how huge this is: 90 percent of what I say to John has to be: “Do you have to go potty? John, potty? Potty?” If the answer is yes, then he repeats the word “potty,” if no, his answer is to ignore me. It is a reliable method of keeping him dry, except when it’s not. Being ignored is not a satisfying answer when I see him doing the potty dance.
And just hearing myself ask him over and over makes me feel that one day he’ll be telling a therapist “…all she ever cared about was if I had to go potty.” Wait — that would be great, right? I digress.
He told someone he had to go! which means he’s recognizing the signs in his body, which means he’s a little more focused. Yesterday while at the pool, he told me too —”Go potty? Okay.” We rushed to the bathroom, arriving just a little late. He looked at me and said, “Oops!“
He said “Oops!” It made my day. Oops tells me that he knew he made a mistake (a forgivable one since I showered him with praise for telling me he had to go). Oops also tells me he wanted me to know he made a mistake, that it’s not what he intended. I don’t know if or when he’ll independently take himself to the bathroom, but I am so hopeful now that he’s made this leap.
There has also been glorious sleep. The first four nights, he still awakened and rushed to our bed, but instead of hysterical laughter there was silence, instead of manic jumping, there was peaceful slumber. I don’t know if it’s here to stay — I feel like tossing salt over my shoulder just for sharing the words…
Last night, John stayed in his own bed.