A few mights ago, Mal was eating Doritos right before bedtime. When he was done, it was time to brush his teeth; he complained that a chip was stuck in his tooth. A bit later, when they were done, James told me he couldn't see the chip. Mal said it was still bothering him. My extreme myopia involves not only very weak far-out vision, but extremely clear close-in vision. I pulled Mal into the light to look... and it wasn't a chip. The second of his four metal caps had a hole in it, but unlike the first one, it didn't fall out. It was just sitting open like someone had opened up a tin can by stabbing it repeatedly with a dull knife.
Since it was midnight, I knew we weren't doing anything that night, but he definitely had sharp edges and wouldn't be able to sleep with it like that. So I did something I am not recommending to anyone because it's stupid, but I've done it to myself on my natural teeth and it was pretty effective: I got a glass nail file and started smoothing out the edges. I was able to make some progress, and asked Mal if he could live with it. "No." So I did some more, and also pushed down the part that had pulled back, hoping it might rest in the natural valley of the molar. Can you live with it like this? "No." Finally, I asked Mal to bite down. He did, then said, "That was a clean bite!"
Whew!
THEN two days later. he just didn't poop. The next day (yesterday), either. Understand this: Every single day since late May, James and/or I have sat in the restroom with Mal for at least 20 minutes, and up to an hour and a half. Every single day. Reminding him to push. Chatting. Encouraging. Keeping him focused. And this is after his never ever in his life ever just saying, "I need to go poop!" and doing it. We cannot take a mental break from this. We can't give him a day off of trying so hard. We can't stop trying so hard. We simply cannot relax because even with our vigilance, his body just decides to stop moving every few weeks.
Yes, I know some of this might be because he just doesn't know or doesn't pay attention to cues. It might be that he's just immature in that way. But it's such a freaking chore, and it makes me both angry that I have a 6-year-old who has literally never wiped himself, and also in complete awe of parents who have kids with actual chronic health issues.
We don't want him to end up like this poor Texas kid from a millennium ago, though, so on we plod. He still gets Mirilax every day. When the flow starts winding down, I move to PediaLax (the Equate brand is NOT watermelon-flavored, though it purports to be; Mal says it's mint and he can barely down it... it's just as effective, though, and it's all that Walmart had, so... sigh). We've learned that 2 PediaLax twice over a 24-hour period seems to work pretty effectively. ExLax doesn't do a dang thing, though he enjoys taking them. Well, it does give him a stomach ache. No positive results, though. And I'm trying to avoid the magnesium citrate, which he's now taken FOUR TIMES this year. That's gotta be rough on the old GI tract.
I've mentioned this, but I'll reiterate: So many things are SO DIFFICULT with Mal. Why are his teeth crap? And why then did we choose a dentist whose work is crap? And why can't he just crap? CRAP.
That said, the other day we came in from an errand and Mal was chatting with me. It took me back to not too long ago, when every time we came in from a trip out, Mal was in tears because he just did not deal well with transitions. I'd picture our peaceful home, D enjoying having the bedroom door open and James napping or working quietly... then this aural storm taking over. Every single time.
I'm trying to remember that a lot of the hard things we dealt with early on that have improved over time. Surely this stuff will, too?
Anyway, here's a really cute picture of this really awesome little kid...
