Laundry and Regression

Laundry and regression is the topic tonight, not that they have anything in common other than the fact that they are both frustrating and both overwhelming in my home right now.

I discussed AnnaWen's wetting the bed at such detail this morning that she's likely to cite it as a source of psychosis to her therapist in years to come. Tonight she had a rough bedtime. Steve and Jack were out to music, I bathed, brushed, peed, read and tucked the three youngest munsters. Keeping in mind a friend's suggestion that Wen may be scared, I kept going back to the girls' room every two or three minutes as I read E his story (he'd sigh "Again?" when I excused myself, he's so patient). They were fine. Steve walked in, the girls heard him and started to get out of bed. I told them to lie down and he'd be up - not meanly but firm enough that it was a direction not a suggestion - and Wen burst into tears. She didn't stop when he came up. We are reluctant to leave her to cry, so he sat with them.

Regression. Until tonight, she went into bed FINE.

It may be a little known fact, because I hide it very well, but I like to be in charge and in control. I'm not frustrated by regression because it happens, I understand and empathise with the reasons behind it, I'm frustrated because I never know how to handle it. Regression happens all the time and I'm starting to realize it will continue to happen over and over and over - hell, I bet E asks for a soother when we drop him at University (more foder for therapy, sorry Moose). As newborns, as SOON as I got into "the swing of things" feeling like I finally had a routine down and was starting to get things right, they'd change it up. They'd sleep through the night for four nights, then wake up every 2 hours. They'd be dry for a week or two, then forget about the toilet for three days. They get along famously, using generosity, empathy, genuine concern for a full ten minutes, then push every button to start a fight (Okay, that last one isn't regression just false hope that they're growing out of sibling rivalry in record time. In fact, the ten minutes of peace is either planning time or efforts to draw the enemy in closer). And I never know what to do, always second guessing myself. Do I regress with them - go back to what was needed before? Do I stick to my guns and push through to what I know they were and will be capable of again? For me, knowing and planning makes any obsticle easier to manage. From GI Joe, "knowing is half the battle" and I never, ever know. Sigh. Steve's favourite tv show was Greatest American Hero - he lost the instruction manual to hsi magic suit. That's what I feel like.

SO back to tonight... Steve called down that she wanted her 'wawa' (a doll in Mandarin), which seemed to make sense because she bought a new one today with some TRU money she had from her shower (thanks Lily!). I took it up to her and took over pulling out some used tricks that got smiles before. She didn't want the doll, but she did want her plastic "Sarah". Sarah was bought from the same shelf where PJ found Ben and I've been tucking both girls in each night with them laying beside them. Ben was missing this evening but I didn't think anything of it. In trying to spend time in the girls' room without actively engaging with Wen, I looked again for Ben, found him in PJ's blankets, and tucked him in beside PJ. At that, Wen sighed, stuck her fingers in her mouth and closed her eyes.

The other strange thing with regression is that while I'm frustrated and uncertain in the moment, it never seems like that big of a deal after the fact (mostly b/c it's not the behaviour but the self doubt of dealing with it). Now 30 mins later, when the girls are asleep the the boys are quiet in their room, I realized the connection between the wawa and Ben - could she have been so upset that PJ's wasn't where he was supposed to be? No idea. But she's calm, asleep and dry. For now.

And the laundry is still piled high behind me. I have to fold it and put it away, though I can't put it away tonight b/c most of it is Munster-sized. Which means it doesn't really do any good to fold it tonight either, which is the argument I used LAST night. Did you wonder why I was rambling on so long?

And on a side note, I think we have identified her special need. The child does not like KD or strawberries. What kind of a freak is that? It's a good thing CCAA didn't let on about that or we may have questioned the referral. (Gotta keep the future psychologists fed).

N