We’ve been having a little trouble in the household lately. By we, I mean, Evan and me. Evan has been peeing his pants. And I have been trying not to be so damn frustrated over it. It’s been months since he’s had an accident, excluding the weekend The Husband was watching him. Actually I can’t remember the last time he peed his pants. Before if he had an accident, it was just a little because he couldn’t hold it any more, and I would send him into the bathroom to finish, and he would cry out of embarrassment and frustration.
Last week, he peed in his pants when we were at my parents’ house. He came up to me nonchalantly and told me. I removed his pants, scolding him, asking him why he did it, and put him in some spare underwear I carry just in case. Accidents happen, right?
Then Sunday when we were at my grandma’s house, he peed his pants again. With the same flippant attitude he told me. I wanted to wring his neck. Why, Evan? Why? Why didn’t you stop playing to go potty? I checked the diaper bag to learn I forgot to replace the spare underwear and walked to my parents’ house to get into my car to pull out the spare spare underwear. Apparently I forgot to replace those. So he free balled it in some shorts.
Then Sunday night at my parents’ house, we were playing. He was behind me as I sat on the couch, trying to reach Sean, so I would sit back, pressing my weight against him, mentioning what a soft but loud pillow grandma had. Then I heard an “Uh-oh” followed by a warm, wet sensation on my back. EVAN L-!!!!! I swear to God I’m going to kill this child. What were you thinking? Why didn’t you go to the potty? Why didn’t you listen to your body tell you went to the potty? I had no spare underwear, pants, or shorts. My mom suggested swimmers, but Evan jumped at that idea. So I slapped on one of Sean’s diapers on him and took him home.
Yesterday I reminded him to use the bathroom all morning. I sent him off to school. I didn’t even think it would be a problem. He’s never had an accident at school. He would be too embarrassed.
And I would be wrong as the teacher beckoned me over and discreetly told me about Evan’s accident as she handed me a plastic bag of urine soaked clothes as Evan scurried out from between us with pants obviously too small for him. Lord, help me.
We had a talk about it. Again, he pleaded he was too busy playing. I know this is a common issue for boys, but three accidents in two days?
I’m making him go every two hours, whether he wants to or not. Mainly not. I’m kicking myself for giving away my potty book because I read the whole thing and learned the program, why do I need it? Famous last words, Fae. Famous last words.
Could it be the new baby coming? Possibly, but Evan is fascinated by babies. He has to talk to them and their parents whenever he sees one. He’s been carrying a baby doll around pretending to be Daddy. But he does have his moments when he wants to be a baby, making whiny noises, flopping around when he doesn’t want to do something. Then I remind him babies take two naps, babies eat baby food, and babies wear diapers. That cures it.
Could it be The Husband has been gone for over a week and will be gone for at least one more, if not two? Possibly, but The Husband has been gone for longer period of time without Evan having accidents.
So, yeah. I have no idea. Like every other parenting issue.