A week ago, we got a new foster baby, a brand new infant. Before he came, I explained to the Littles that we had a little friend coming; I told them he was not our baby, but he would only stay a little while and then he would go to his forever family. I was worried about how our 2-year-old would feel, since he is the baby of the family. All the kids actually seemed to take this on board and, when he arrived, said over and over, “Not our baby” and, “Only stay a little while.”
The first day he was here, our 4-year-old son seemed fine. He has had some attachment issues, so I made a point of spending extra time with him and making good use of the Bigs any time they wanted to hold the baby, feed, or change him. All of the kids seemed genuinely intrigued by the infant and miraculously heeded my request to avoid touching his hands or face. When the Captain got to hold him, he sat a very long time and had a quite serious look on his face.
The next day, he wet his pants five times. The following day, six. Finally, I pulled him aside. “What is going on, son? Why are you wetting your pants?”
The real question should be about why I make such queries. They never answer them. They don’t have the answers.
“I don’t know.”
“Son, you know that you are my forever boy, right? I love you with all my heart. The baby will go away, but you will stay. I will never send you away.”
“Oh, okay Mom. I sorry I wet my pants.”
Bingo. Poor baby– he thought his time here might be temporary, too. I redoubled my efforts to make eye contact every few minutes and to make sure I was giving all of them lots of love and attention.
It’s been five days; he hasn’t wet his pants since. In fact, he’s been extra bright-eyed; I think the “light bulb” switched on. Bless him.