#wetting only

“Honey, can you just get in the shower with Mommy? You can leave your pull-up on the floor for now. Just put it on top of you pants, okay?”

She reaches for the shampoo while he steps out of his pants and wet pull-up. When he pulls back the curtain to get in the shower she can tell that he’s feeling shy, thumb tracing his lips and eyes downcast.

“Come here. You get under the water while I leave my shampoo in, okay?” She picks up the soap and starts to rub it onto her hands. “Ohh…did you still need to pee more?”

He looks down at the stream steadily flowing onto the bathtub and down the drain. “Oh…maybe.”

‘Maybe’ is a little silly when both of them can see that he’s going.

“Can I get your armpits while we wait for you to finish? It was hot today and I know you got sweaty playing in the yard.”

He nods. Now his thumb is all the way in his mouth.

“Okay, are you all done?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Did you just get in the shower right away because I told you to?”

“Yeah…”

“You are soo good. But you know that you can finish in the potty if you need to, right?”

“I was just listening to Mommy.”

“Right. You were being good. But, like I said, just tell me if you need to go potty more, okay? It’s not a big deal this time because we’re in the shower. But remember when you went pee again after I told you to change into new pants?”

He nods.

“Can you tell me what happened? Turn around so I can get your butt.”

“I forgot I needed to go pee and I was doing the dishes. And then I couldn’t ignore it and it started to just come out when I was almost to the bathroom.”

“Did your pants get wet?”

“Umm…yeah.”

“Did you go potty in your pull-up while you were outside today?”

“Ummm…”

“Yes?”

“I was crouching down to look at a flower and maybe umm…”

“Maybe you went a little bit?” She turns him back around. “I think I should have been out there supervising you is what I’m hearing.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“Okay, let me rinse my hair and then we’ll dry off.”

She turns off the water and he reaches out to get their towels.

“Do you need a little bit more protection than pull-ups?”

“I think mommies decide that, right, not babies?”

“That’s true. Here, can I get your back for you? You got your shirt wet when you dried off by yourself yesterday.”

He blushes and turns around. Then they step out onto the tile and he picks up his pull-up and pants.

“Do you know what to do with those?”

“Throw this part away…and put these in the laundry?”

“That’s right.”

“And then get my changing mat, right?”

“Uh-huh. And what else?”

“Umm…put it down in the bedroom and get wipes and…”

“And what? I think you know that Mommy knows what you should be wearing if you’re going to pee yourself.”

He looks up from his food and picks up his plastic cup with the kitties on it. “I’m using this cup instead of a sippy cup. I think this is pretty much what big kids use.”

I just smile back at him. I don’t think he knows how silly it is to hear someone in his 20s reference “big kids”. I don’t think he knows that most people he would consider grown ups don’t call stuff “for big kids”, and I don’t think they would find his Kitty cup very mature, anyway. But it’s cute that he doesn’t really seem to have even thought of that.

He also wanted to have a plate that wasn’t sectioned, but it’s still a plastic plate with a frog design in the middle. And he’s wiggling a little bit in his seat.

“Are you potty dancing?”

“No!!” Now he looks at me with an angry expression. Or maybe a pouty expression.

“Are you sure? Let’s go potty when you’re finished eating, okay?”

“Okay, fine.” He picks up a handful of goldfish crackers and shoves them in his mouth, a few falling onto the table.

“Attitude. And table manners.”

“Oh, yeah. Umm. Okay, mommy. I’ll go try when I’m finished. Even though I don’t need to go potty.”

When he’s done eating he comes into the kitchen to put his plate in the sink and I glance down. He has a big wet patch square in the middle of his crotch.

“Okay, potty boy, let’s go to the bathroom.” I put my hand on his back.

He lets me guide him over with only a little whining.

When we get to the bathroom he sees his reflection in the mirror and looks down at the tile floor.

“Did you spill from your big kid cup?” I ask, watching him fumble with his zipper. “Here, let me get that from you.”

“I don’t remember…maybe…” he says quietly, sitting down on the toilet and stepping all the way out of his shorts and training pants.

“Maybe you still need to be using a sippy cup.”

“No…”

“Or did something else happen?” I pick up his pants and padded underwear. “I don’t think juice usually soaks all the way through to your underwear. Can you smell these for me?”

He leans down.

“What does that smell like?”

“Pee.” He looks back up at me, a sad crease between his eyebrows.

“Okay. I knew you needed to go. Can you try to finish right now?”

He shifts his legs on the toilet but nothing’s coming out. We even try turning on the tap. “That’s funny. It seemed like you really needed to go. More than the amount that would cause this wet patch.”

I help him get off the toilet and wipes off and washes his hands.

“Let’s put on a pull-up.” I’m already opening the drawer. “Pull-ups aren’t for big kids though! I’m meant to have training underwear!”

“We don’t have any clean training underwear, bud.”

“Maybe the ones I was wearing will dry and…”

“No, that’s not how it works. That would get smelly and dirty.”

“Okay…” He still looks hesitant and nervous. I guess he’ll take a little convincing.

“You won’t have to worry so much about having a leak if you wear this,” I tell him. “It’s okay. You like pull-ups, remember? Last week you wanted one when you needed to poop because you didn’t want to go or the bathroom at night.”

“That was last week though…I’m way bigger now. I didn’t wake up wet yesterday and I got to have a grown up cup…”

“Uh-huh. Okay, maybe you’re close to being a big kid. But someone who is ready for underwear”—I’ll humor him and let him believe that his padded training pants are basically the same as regular adult underwear—"doesn’t leak all the way through the cloth. Okay?”

“Okay, I guess maybe, um, I guess maybe I can wear one for now. But just since I don’t have any clean underwear now.”

Right, that’s definitely why. I mentally roll my eyes but keep a straight face as I help him step into the pull-up and pull it snug over his hips.

“Do you want to play outside for a bit? It’s so nice out.”

“Yes!!”

“You can work on your fairy house again.”

“Yes! Yay!”

He doesn’t seem to care about the pull-up now that he knows he can go play outside. But he gets whiny again when we realize that his only clean shorts are the ones with snaps along the inseam.

“But that’s for babies!! And they have a stain on them!!”

“Right, and who’s fault is the stain?”

“Well, it’s not because I pooped in them; I just dropped a marker on them when I was drawing…”

“Uh-huh. The pooping did also happen.”

“I know!! But it stayed in my pull-up! The stain is from the marker! Look, it’s purple and everything because it was a purple marker.”

“Okay, I’m just making sure we’re on the same page." I help him pull them on. One of the snaps has come undone and I bend down to snap it into place. “You are really combative today. Do you need to go on time-out?”

“No, I wanna go in the backyard…”

“Okay, let’s go outside.”

The screen door slides open. I was expecting him to go to the tree where he’s been building his fairy house, but instead he goes over to the sandbox and glances over his shoulder. He kneels down, legs spread a little, facing away from me. I know what he’s doing. His leg was fidgeting when we were in the bathroom and I knew he wasn’t done. And I know he likes pulling the soft, warm sand up between his legs and then peeing.

I give him a minute and he slowly stands up and walks over to the tree, squatting down and picking up one of the little chairs he brought outside.

“Hey, can you come over here?”

“Why?”

“I just need you to come over.”

He looks flustered, twisting his shirt in his hands as he walks over.

“Are you dry?”

He nods.

“Are you sure?”

He nods again but I’m standing close to him, pulling his hips towards me and easing down the elastic of his shorts.

“Why are you doing that? I said I’m dry!”

“Because I don’t trust you.” His pull-up is very clearly wet.

“Ugh, stop!” He tries to grab at my wrist.

“No,” I tell him firmly. “That’s enough attitude today. You’re going to sit over there”—I point—“for five minutes. I’ll set a timer and if you’re ready to apologize and be good we can stop at five.”

He frowns as he walks over to the fence and sits down.

I set the timer and sit down on the porch chair, picking up my book.

I look up at two and a half minutes and see that tears have started to slide out of his eyes. I look back down at the page, but I feel a little bit bad. Or maybe he’s being dramatic. It’s such an easy punishment. It’s not like a spanking or anything.

At five minutes I walk across the grass to him and pull him to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Can you use your words to tell me why you were acting out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you still sure you’re ready to be big?”

He shakes his head, looking down.

“No. Aw, see, you’re sucking your thumb again. You know that big kids don’t usually do that, right? And that they don’t usually drink from patterned plastic cups or wet their pants.”

He nods.

“It’s okay though! It’s okay if you’re still little.” I slip my hand into his. “I’m going to go in the house and get you a change, okay? We can clean you up out here and then you can get back to playing.”

“Can I have another pull-up?” he asks quietly.

“No, it’s not going to be another pull-up. I think you know that.”

He nods.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. Hang tight.”

He doesn’t say anything but she feels him tense up a little on his lap. He probably didn’t want her to notice but the sucking sound was giving him away.

“I know it was really scary to have an accident at the doctor. But you’ve got your stuffy now, and you’re in my lap, and we’ve got a pull-up on you.”

This time he wiggles a little and she squeezes him closer. “Do you need a pacifier? You’ve been acting like it all day, sucking your thumb, sucking on your lollipop, even sucking my fingers for a little…”

“I didn’t mean to do that.”

“What? How could you do that by accident? I know you weren’t feeling good but someone doesn’t grab another person’s hand and put her fingers in his mouth by mistake. And I saw you sucking on your key toy earlier, too.”

He presses his face against hers and she feels how warm he is. “You weren’t meant to see that. It was private.”

“Private things happen in the bathroom. Not in the bedroom with the door open while you’re playing.”

He wiggles again.

“It’s seven. Let’s go take your medicine and do a pull-up check, okay?” Her hand has already snuck down to his waist and is rubbing the elastic waistband of his pull-up.

“I-I don’t need a check.”

“Okay, maybe not, but you do need your medication.”

When he stands up and she turns the light on, the way he’s walking and how his pants are sagging a little is definitely suspect but she doesn’t say anything.

“Okay,” she says, setting the bottle on the kitchen counter. “One spoonful of this and then we’ll pull your pants down. Just really fast, okay? Okay, that thumb is going to need to come out of your mouth so you can take this.”

He still looks a little scared.

“It’s not so bad. It’s just bitter for a second and then we can make tea or something, okay? It’s just one swallow.”

He relents and takes his thumb out of his mouth, letting her replace it with the spoon. He makes a face when he swallows.

“Okay, now your pull-up check.”

He pulls the hem of his shirt down over his waist but she takes his hand away.

“Why are you hiding? I thought you said you didn’t need it, anyway. Come on, baby.” She undoes his fly and eases his pants down. “Ohh. Were you embarrassed? You didn’t want me to see that, huh?”

He shakes his head, one hand over his face and the other fidgeting with his stuffy.

“Do you need to be in a diaper right now? Is that what’s going on? Do you need to be in a diaper and have a pacifier in?”

He shakes his head.

“No? Can you come to the bathroom with me and see if you need to finish in the toilet, then?”

He follows her and she pulls his pants and pull-up all the way down. “Oh, yucky. This is all the way full. I’m surprised you didn’t leak on my lap.” She looks back up at him. “Okay, get your shirt out of your mouth. You’re getting a lot of spit on it.”

She leaves the room and he’s left sitting alone, waiting for her. A little bit of pee starts to trickle out into the toilet but he tries to stop it as best he can.

She comes back with his pacifier. The one with the ribbon and the big safety pin. She pulls the collar of his shirt out of his mouth. “Wow. You need a new shirt, too. And a diaper. Definitely.” She pulls the shirt off over his head even as he whines and tries to protest.

When she comes back his thumb is in his mouth again. This time she has his long-sleeve PJ shirt and a folded diaper. One of those super-big diapers for bedtime. His face is all red again.

She pulls the shirt over him first and then pins the pacifier to it and sneaks it into his mouth. Then she has him stand up while she closes the toilet lid and sets the diaper out on top of it.

“Why are you dancing?” she asks as she wipes him down. “Didn’t you just get it all out in the potty?”

But as soon as he’s sitting on his new diaper he starts peeing again. Uh-oh. Now she’s gonna know he went on purpose. He grips her forearm and squirms, trying to stop the stream, but it’s still going, soaking into the diaper and making it warm and squishy.

“Mom!! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“Did you manage to hold it while you were sitting on the toilet? I’m somehow kind of proud of you. I guess?” She pulls the diaper up around his hips and smooths down the tapes. “Good thing it’s a big diaper and we know it can hold more. Which it will probably need to.”

He’s pressing the pacifier into his mouth with one hand.

“Do you want your stuffy? Do you want to come cuddle with me on the couch again?”

“You good, bud?” He ignores me as he walks swiftly towards the bathroom. I pause the movie and follow him. “You okay?”

“No!! I peed my pants!!”

“Let me see. Oh no, you soaked them, didn’t you? Sit down on the toilet and see if you need to finish up. I’ll help you get your pants off.”

“I can’t believe that happened.” He keeps saying it as I coax his pants off over his bare feet. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“I knew you were doing it on purpose,” I say quietly, not really meaning to say it out loud.

“No, it wasn’t on purpose! I just was so relaxed and I just kind of…started going…”

“Uh-huh? You just kind of started going?”

“Well, yeah, well, kind of…” He trails off, looking down at the floor.

I help him to his feet and turn on the shower.

“I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry.”

“You said you just started going because you were relaxed, right? Were you expecting to have a pull-up on?”

“No!!”

“Uh-huh…” I’m helping him take off his shirt now. There’s a bit of a wet spot on the hem.

“Okay, um, fine. I kind of didn’t realize…um…”

“You didn’t realize what?”

“I didn’t know I just had pants on.” I motion for him to step into the shower and he does. “I wasn’t expecting it to soak through my underwear like that but then I felt it and I realized I was peeing my pants…”

“But you didn’t stop?”

“No, I couldn’t…I had to get up, um…”

“You’re meant to be trying to make it even when you have a pull-up on. Do you remember that? Turn around, I need to rinse your bottom.”

“Ummm…I usually always try…” I turn him back around and he meets my gaze before looking away. “Almost always…”

“Uh-huh…Is this why you keep having a wet pull-up in the evening? Because you only almost always try?”

“Ummm…”

“What? Are you getting shy about telling me? Pick up your left foot. I saw it had some pee on it.”

“Okay, maybe sometimes when it’s late and I’m tired it’s a little bit…um…a little bit on purpose.”

“Just a little bit?” I run the soapy washcloth over one foot and then the other while he grips my shoulder.

“Yeah, um, like…I just don’t really think about it and I want to go potty but I just end up…”

“You just go in your pull-up?”

“Yeah…kind of…”

“A ‘kind of’ doesn’t make your pull-up all wet and saggy.”

“No, um…”

I turn the shower off and get him his towel.

“No, I guess not really.”

“But you don’t want to interrupt what we’re doing, huh? Like when we’re watching a movie or you’re in my lap on the couch.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Okay. I thought this was happening. But what did you tell me last time you had a wet pull-up when I was changing you into your bedtime diaper?”

“I said I had an accident.”

“Right. You said you didn’t notice that you had to go. Are you cold? You look like you’re starting to shiver. Let’s go get pajamas on.”

He follows me to the bedroom and I let him pick out his PJs.

I watch him set the PJs neatly on the rug. “I think you forgot something.”

“Oh yeah, my…” He opens the bottom drawer and fishes out his diaper.

“It was really naughty to go pee in your pants,” I tell him, pushing him back onto his changing mat.

“I know, but I said I didn’t realize I was…”

“You said you didn’t realize you didn’t have a pull-up on. You did know you were going.”

He puts his hands over his face. “I swear it’s a different thing! It’s not going on purpose it’s just not trying not to go!”

“Say that again and see if it makes sense.”

“Nooo, Mommy, it’s not…”

I have his diaper all the way on. I take his hands and pull him to his feet. “Help me get your PJs on you.”

“I can do it by myself.”

“Uh-huh? All by yourself? Whose PJ shirt was on backwards last night after he did it by himself?” That shuts him up.

“Diaper feels good, huh?” I ask. He quickly takes his hand away from the front of his diaper and plays his hair instead while I help him into his pajama pants.

He follows me back out of the room. “Can you make sure all the pillows and blankets survived your ‘accident’ without getting wet?”

He gets on his knees and sorts through them. I take the opportunity to smack his bottom.

“Hey!!!!” He looks over his shoulder, frowning.

“Keep picking up your pillows, silly. Any wet spots?”

“No, I think everything is good. Oh. Wait. No. The blanket is all wet in the middle…” He turns around, face burning.

“Okay. What do we do with that.”

“Oh! The washing machine.” He goes to the bathroom to get his pants and I listen to him make his way to the laundry room.

When he comes back I’m sitting on the couch. He has a new blanket draped over his shoulder.

“Can I sit in your lap this time? I don’t want to be by myself on the floor anymore.”

I pull him towards me and make sure he’s comfortable. I find one of his hands and slip mine over it, but his other arm is reaching down in front of him again.

“Are you feeling your diaper again?”

“No!! Stop!”

I kiss the back of his neck and pick up the remote to play the movie again. “What are you thinking about?” I ask softly in his ear.

“Um…kind of, like, um, I’m thinking about…um. Stuff.”

“Come on, dude. Try that again.”

“I’m thinking about peeing myself earlier! Okay? Is that not okay?”

“That’s okay. Do you want Mommy to do that for you?”

He starts to try to say something again but gives up and lets me loop my arm under his and find the same spot on his diaper.

“That feel better?”

“Go slower.” I slow down.

“You’re kind of demanding tonight, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to talk back! I’m sorry.”

“Maybe we need to turn the movie off and go to bed right away.”

“No!! Um…I mean, I don’t want to go to bed yet. Please.”

“Okay. No more telling me what to do. Who tells who what to do?”

“You tell me.” He squirms.

“Right. And I’m going to tell you that you need to get up and go in the potty. Even if you’re relaxed and sleepy.”

“Okay…”

“Unless you want to wear diapers all the time. Even when your friends are over.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Repeat that back.”

“I’m going to try to be better…unless I want to wear diapers all the time.”

“That’s right.”

“Do I need to decide right now?”

He shakes his head, shifting his bottom on my lap.

“Are you sure you didn’t go potty in your pants?”

He doesn’t shake his head this time, and all I can feel is his warm cheek pressing against me. And a little warmth through his pull-up and thin shorts on my lap.

“It’s okay. You aren’t used to not having a diaper on yet. Do you remember what you’re meant to do if you think you need to go pee?”

He shakes his head again.

“You’re supposed to tell me if you think you need to use the bathroom. Okay?”

He nods.

“It can be confusing when you can’t tell if you’re nervous or if you need to go pee, right?”

He nods again.

“Are you nervous about your presentation tomorrow? Or are you feeling a little uncomfortable since you don’t have a diaper on?”

He whines a little as I stand up, wrapping his arms around my shoulders are his legs around my waist.

“You’re heavy.” I start towards the bathroom and let him down on the counter. He pulls one knee up to his chest and fidgets with the hem of his shirt.

“Okay, you’re nervous about your presentation.” I run my fingers through his hair. “Which is going to be fine, baby. You’ve been working really hard this semester. And your professors trust you.”

He bites his lip, forehead creasing and eyes looking away.

I put one arm around his shoulder and squeeze him. “Would it be a bad idea to put you in a diaper for the night? It doesn’t seem like you can do pull-ups right now. But I don’t want to mess up your presentation tomorrow and have you go potty in your pants on accident.”

I pull away from him and he shrugs. I hear a very soft hissing sound and the hand that was fidgeting with his shirt goes between his legs, pressing hard.

“Baby. You’re peeing again.”

He shakes his head but I guide his hands away. “Okay, we’re going to need to wipe down the counter. Hop down.” His shorts are soaked all the way from the front to his bottom.

He starts to cry.

“Oh no, oh no, it’s okay. You just had an accident. It’s okay. We can put you in a diaper.”

I get him a couple of towels and he lies back on the floor. “Here, let’s clean up your face. I’ll get you a cup of water in a minute, okay?”

He nods and I run a damp washcloth under his eyes and nose, wiping the tears away.

Then I get started on cleaning him up and diapering him. “When you get to school tomorrow, make sure you go potty before it’s your turn to present, okay?”

He nods, his thumb slipping into his mouth.

“And we can have you wear those cotton training pants tomorrow, okay? Just in case.” I hesitate. “And maybe black shorts, too. Just in case.”

“Okay, baby, come over here.”

She helps him sit down. The chair and the pad are so soft. Suddenly feels a jolt in his belly. Before he can stop himself, warm pee is hissing into the diaper and quickly soaking the padding.

“Oh no!” She moves hastily to pull the diaper around his hips and tape him up.

He’s not sure if he can talk at all. He looks up at her, thumb in his mouth and sucking hard.

“Did sitting down on the diaper make your body feel like you were sitting on the toilet?” She puts her hands under his armpits and hoists him up, leaning over the chair to inspect the pad. “Looks like it all ended up in your diaper.”

He stands there awkwardly, one foot rubbing on top of the other. She puts a hand on his shoulder and helps him pull his shorts back on.

Her eyes linger on his crotch. “Are you doing okay?”

He hums a little “I don’t know” noise and she laces her fingers around his free hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Maybe you need something to eat. You look a little shaky.”

She guides him to the kitchen and he sits down at the table while she gets out his sectioned plate with the jungle animals on it and pours out goldfish crackers and peels him a tangerine.

He watches as she also gets down his sippy cup and fills it with water. The sippy cup. That’s making him feel embarrassed but also very small, like he’s being taken care of.

“Here’s this. I’m going to get something for myself, too.” She goes back to the cupboard and gets a plate for herself too. It’s also sectioned but she gets out cheese and water crackers for herself instead of the goldfish. “Do you need a yogurt cup, too?”

He nods, thumb still in his mouth. “Mhm.”

She comes back with his yogurt and a spoon and opens it for him. “You’re going to need to take that thumb out of your mouth if you’re expecting to eat.”

He slowly draws his hand away, feeling like his head is spinning. He can feel her eyes on him as he picks up the sippy cup.

“Why are you looking at me?” he finally manages to ask.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You just look so cute when you drink from your cup.” She taps his leg with her foot under the table and he squirms.

“My diaper’s getting cold…”

I sit up, propping myself up on one hand and switching on the lamp on my bedside table. “Did you have a scary dream?”

He nods.

“Do you need to sleep in my bed?” We started having him sleep in the guest bedroom when he came down with a nasty virus, but it’s been months since he’s gotten better and I still tuck him into bed in “his” bedroom.

He looks away.

“Ohh, don’t be shy, baby. It’s okay.” I reach out and pull him towards me, turning out the light again. We cuddle up together and I feel something warm against my thigh. “Uh-oh. You okay?”

No answer.

“Was it a really scary dream?”

“Uh-huh…”

I sit up again and switch the lamp back on, pulling back the covers and squeezing the front of his pull-up. “Are you soaked front-to-back?” I push his knees back and squeeze his bottom, too.

He puts his thumb in his mouth, hooking his hand over his nose and trying to hide his face.

“Was the dream so scary it made you go pee?”

He nods.

“Did you wake up all wet?”

Another nod.

“How come you didn’t tell me?”

He looks away again. Maybe he doesn’t know.

“That’s okay. I found out anyway. You weren’t able to hide it for very long.”

I stand up and find him a diaper and his wipes and lotion. “You keep needing changes in the middle of the night. Is it time we put you in a big diaper before bed?”

He shakes his head.

“How come? You woke up with wet sheets yesterday, remember? And there were two times last week you came into my bedroom because you’d had an accident and needed help.”

His thumb comes out of his mouth, still rubbing on his lip. “I know.”

I have his pull-up all the way off and I’m starting to wipe him down. “Does that feel good? Is it making you sleepy again?” His eyes are getting droopy and red. I lean up to kiss him on the cheeks and forehead. “That’s good sleepy, right? Not scary.”

He nods. I squeeze the lotion onto one hand and rub them together.

“I woke up and my heart was going so fast.”

I kind of knew he would want to talk about it, even if he felt shy at first. “Oh yeah?”

“I sat up in bed because I woke up so fast. And then I was all alone in the room and it was dark…I…” Tears are starting to well up in his eyes.

“Baby…” I get him a tissue from the bedside table, trying not to get lotion on it. “That sounds really scary.

He wipes his eyes.

“Do you need to take a break and let me hold you? Or is it okay if I keep getting you ready for your diaper?”

“Diaper,” he says quietly.

I go back in with the lotion. When I finally pull the diaper under him, a couple beads of pee well up at the end of his penis and run down onto the padding.

“You all good?”

He nods.

“Do you know that you just went pee a little bit? Did you feel that?”

He shakes his head and I kneel up and rub his chest. “It’s okay. It must be like a Pavlovian thing. You just have to pee every time there’s a diaper under you.” I pull it up gently between his legs and smooth the tapes. “There.”

He’s sucking on his thumb again.

“Do you need a pacifier?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. Do you need anything else?”

He nods. “I want my warm stuffie.”

“Okay, we can go put it in the microwave for a couple minutes.” I rub his chest again and stand up. “Can you get it for me?”

He slips out of bed and I hear his footsteps down the hallway. I fish his pacifier out of the drawer and go to the kitchen to wait for him.

When he comes in, he’s squeezing his pink pig to his chest. “You got it?” I stand up and stand behind him as he opens the microwave door. Piggy goes inside and he shuts it. I reach around him and press the numbers in. “Two minutes.”

I pull a chair out from the kitchen table and invite him to sit on my lap. It’s a little awkward, with his legs folded up but still just barely comfortable on the wooden chair. I pull his head towards my shoulder and he lets me stroke his hair.

“My room is still scary,” he says quietly.

“Still scary?”

“It’s too dark.”

“We should get you a nightlight in there. Does that sound good?”

He nods.

“Maybe we need one for the bathroom, too. That could help you with accidents. Is it sometimes scary to get up to go pee?”

He nods again. “And I try to hold it but it’s too hard.”

“I know. Nighttime is a long time to hold it for you.” I kiss his head and the microwave chimes. “Oh, Piggy’s ready.”

He stands up off my lap and opens the microwave door, turning around with his stuffie squeezed close to his chest again.

“I bet Piggy likes helping you feel better when you’re scared,” I say, reaching up to stroke his hair again. “Oh, oops, I almost forgot.”

I turn back to the table and pick up his pacifier. I nudge his arms down so that I can clip it to his shirt and then slip the pacifier into his mouth. One of his hands goes down between his legs almost at once, the other still clutching his pig.

“Oh, do you need to pee again? You can just go if you need to.”

He shakes his head, turning red around his nose and ears.

“Ohh, I bet that just feels good.”

He nods, still rubbing gently on the front of his diaper.

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re self-soothing.” I put my hand on his back and guide him back down the hallway to the bedroom.

“Does the lamp need to stay on?” I ask as we crawl back into bed.