If you want to feel like a huge jerk...

Vitals:  Thursday and Friday, day 48 and 49.   Ruslan learns to go potty, all by himself.

Details: We spent most of Thursday and Friday catching up on school.

The only event of real note is that Ruslan is getting more and more independent every day.  I don't know what was up in that orphanage, but he has NO skills.  It appears they were either ignoring him or doing everything for him, so in the end, he is just a blank slate.

It's really difficult, with a handicapped child, to know when to help and when to step back. If you want to feel like a huge jerk, make your child combat crawl across a room when he wants to be carried.  When we first came here, I would pick him up a lot and carry him or 'walk' him where ever we needed to go.  He loves to be carried, and, as an added bounus, he loves to put his cheek against mine. I usually carry him too low for this, but he will get tense, keep scooting up and then relax, ever so slightly, when our cheeks touch like he is finally home. So, it's tempting to carry him, but the problem is that all that carrying makes him less independent and definitely less tired at the end of the day.

So, we have been making him combat crawl while we walk next to him or hold him up so he "walks."  It's very hard, but it must be done.   Just in the two weeks that we have had him, his walking has improved dramatically.  At first, he had no idea how to keep his torso over his legs.  It was swinging everywhere and was really hard on anyone helping him walk.  After a few practices in front of the mirrors (floor to ceiling Ukrainian mirrors at that), he got the message and has been holding his torso more correctly.  His legs are also getting much stronger.  He will obviously need tons of therapy before he walks on his own, but the progress is encouraging. 


He LOVES to play in the water.  He spends about three hours each day on a chair in the bathroom playing with water in either the sink or the bathtub.  A few days ago, Paul noticed that he pulled himself up to a standing position by the tub so he could play in the water.  I figured if he could pull himself up to the tub, he can certainly go to the bathroom on his own.

So, the next time he asked to go, I jumped up and made him crawl after me to the bathroom. I motioned for him to pull himself up and he looked at me like I was a nut, but he did eventually hold onto the ceramic bowl for support and pull himself up.  Then I told him to get his own pants down.  He looked at me like I was Shoeless Joe Jackson, officially a traitor. He whimpered and whined helplessly, and if he could have, he would have said, "say it ain't so mom, say it ain't so!" In the meantime, I bit my lip and said, "No, Ruslan do it. Ruslan is OK!" and stuffed my hands in my pockets.

I know it was hard for him, because he had to hold himself up with one hand and pull his pants down with the other.  Again, if you want to feel like a huge jerk, refuse to help your handicapped child when they are asking for help to go to the bathroom.  But, I steeled myself, looking just as impassive as a Ukrainian judge and told him, "no," and that he had to do it alone.  He finally did it in the end, but it was hard on both of us.  After that, it was a simple matter to hold himself up with both hands and pee.  When he was done, he wanted me to pull his pants up, but I wouldn't do it.  He looked at me with infinite disgust and finally got them up on his own.  Then he walked to the side of the toilet and flushed on his own and lowered himself down to the floor, all without any help from me. 

I practically fell over myself telling him how great he did and what a big boy he is, so he was all smiles in the end.  The next time he had to go, I made him do it on his own again.  This time, it took a FRACTION of the time, and he did it happily, looking at me all the while for encouragement.  The third time, I sent Paul, probably the least responsible of all my children, and therefore the least likely to be of any help.  He is now going on his own.  He likes to have someone in the room with him.  This is fine with me since I constantly have visions of him cracking his head on the tile floor, but that is my problem.  He is now going on his own, which is what matters.

Baby steps....