I walked into my bathroom this morning after the Kiddo had used it. On a good day, it's a tad disheveled. Today? We have achieved brand new levels of Frat House realness. Yeah, my Kiddo is fully independent enough to know when and where to go to the bathroom. Getting it into the toilet though? Not so much so.
And I'm not talking the usual sprinkle or puddle. Not to be gross here but you're most likely an autism parent reading this. So this kind of TMI, you should be able to handle. If not, kick rocks. Anyway, this was like the Kiddo decided to recreate the port a potties at the '92 Lallapalooza that scared me for life. I had a complete flashback and I swear I could hear Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers banging on his bass in the background.
It. Was. Bad.
It was also ALL OVER. The floor. The toilet. The bath mat and of course, my socks. It seemed that Kiddo hadn't even bothered to aim at all. Like an out of control garden hose at full blast. (Please, spare me all the suggestions of stickers for the bowl or throwing Cheerios in the bowl for him to aim at. Been there. Done that. Still got peed on.)
And I am beyond pissed! (Pardon the pun.) This wasn't an accident. This was pure "Oh I know I can't pee in my pants. So I'll just go into this peeing room and pee. Over everything. Then I will leave the peeing room and go about my business."
Make him clean it up you say? Yep, I've tried that. You see, the Kiddo in this situation is the giver of zero fucks. Cause I've done that plenty of times over with him. I realized pretty quickly that if he had to go in and pee again, he wouldn't give a monkey's butt if the room was covered in his piss or anyone Else's for the matter. It was also five minutes before he had to get on the bus. I knew making him clean it at that moment wouldn't be done quickly or even neatly. Most likely, I would just be creating a situation where I would have to clean him as well. I opted for teaching that lesson AGAIN another day.
As I'm cleaning the crime scene later I find myself grumbling "Why does he do these things? How does he not even care? I just want to know. I just want to be in his brain for an hour and see things how he sees them!"
I know my Kiddo can, for lack of better words, care about people, things, himself etc. It's just different how he does it or when and that's so freaking hard to accept at times. Considering yesterday I spent an hour with his teacher going over the progress he has made lately, I find myself still back at square one with all the things I still have to teach him.
Oh well. Time to go take a Silkwood shower and scrub myself clean. At least I know the bathroom is spotless.
For now. ;-)