Chapter 15 – Mid December – Christmas Break
Jordan’s evening regressions seemed increasingly pronounced to Sally after the kids’ weekend visit with Ted. As had been the case before, she was able to get herself to school alright and Sally hadn’t heard any reports of bad behaviors or problems once she arrived there; each of these were signs of a certain degree of maturity. Of course Jordan’s big “win” with advancing in the story competition was a sign of her obvious intellectual capacity. But when nighttime came each day, the twelve year old seemed to just give up and let Sally take over. Nightly, the mother of three took care of the girl’s intimate needs with a patient voice and a soft touch.
Because of Sally’s empathy for Jordan considering her experience over the past several months, she continued to dote over her with as much tenderness as ever. In addition, she couldn’t deny how undeniably sweet her daughter behaved during those nighttime moments as well. Rather than the pragmatic conversations she had had with the girl a month or so earlier about the kind of precautions she needed to take with regards to feminine care and the duties she needed to follow through on with regard to her bedwetting, Sally’s motherly actions now were unspoken and seemingly automatic; driven by quiet intuition.
Each morning during Jordan’s final week of school before Christmas break Sally had gone into her room to wake her in the morning. The girl had responded by curling up, shaking, and softly crying as she had done the night she returned home from Ted’s. Each day, Sally held her and rocked her before leading her quietly by the hand to the bathroom for careful cleaning. Each day Sally had removed the girl’s soggy diaper and gently helped her into the tub. There, she helped bath the twelve year old much like she still did with Jen – from head to toe. Each day Jordan had meekly thanked her Mom after being toweled dry and wrapped up in a more adult-looking manner under her armpits. She from there assumed what had heretofore been her ‘normal’ pre-teen rituals of morning preparations.
Thinking back herself about these rather organically developing patterns each evening and morning, Jordan felt overwhelmed. In one sense, she felt flooded by the massive ocean of her mom’s love. The new sense of feeling cared for and ‘seen’ was palatable….like something from a movie or novel. It was truly unreal; almost ‘too good to be true’. In another sense, Jordan felt dumbfounded by the dawning reality that she was having such positive emotions about (at age twelve), being diapered nightly by her mother.
This conflation of positive emotion and wonder led the pre-teen to feel fleeting pangs of guilt; she began to question if it was ‘ok’ for her to ‘like’ the kind of attention she was receiving as much as she was beginning to understand she did. The times her mom spent each morning and night with her, tenderly touching and cleaning her, gently patting an pulling, cuddling before bed, and stroking her hair – they were oddly calming and even hypnotizing.
How can this be good and proper? Jordan thought. Having been raised a conservative Christian her entire life, she simply had little room to accommodate the kind of simple, pure, and non-sexual comfort she had discovered (consciously – for the first time in her life) in her mom’s care.
On yet another level, Jordan was confused by feelings of kind of liking how the diapers themselves felt on her body. It was strange (and perhaps this was the strangest and most disturbing part to her). Even then, she probably couldn’t have admitted it to herself or even described it – and she was ashamed that the hint of desire was even present. But undeniably, there grew a part of her each day that looked forward to the nightly ritual when Sally would unwrap the pale pink plastic incontinence device, slide it under her rear, pull it up tightly on her midsection, and fasten it in place. Even though it was embarrassing to have her mom see her naked genitals on a daily basis, even though it was somewhat humiliating to wake up soaked in warm urine (and sometimes blood), even though it was a little degrading to have her mom smear cream on her privates or wipe them clean in the morning, there was still an aspect in all of it that felt cautiously good in a secret-guilty kind of way.
At multiple points during her bedwetting over the past month and a half (and all through the season of increasing care her mother had offered), Jordan had considered calling her Mom off and insisting that she could do it herself. Surely, a twelve year old was able to care for herself; she could take care of it if she wanted!
And for God’s sake I most certainly am competent enough! I’m smart; I’m a writer; I get almost all A’s; I’m growing up – I mean, I’m even more adult sized than my mom!!
But the twice-a-day moments of helpless submission were too enchanting to consider giving up. Jordan simply couldn’t find the courage to speak the truth or to say “no” to what she had grown to count on for emotional support in such a short span of time.
Little did either Jordan or Sally realize that five-year-old Mindi had been catching very perceptive glimpses of their interactions each morning and evening since she had moved into her sister’s room. Mindi didn’t want to be treated like a baby herself, but she did wish her mom would care for her similarly. Although she couldn’t have expressed it precisely this way at the time, the five-year-old was beginning to feel resentment that Sally was giving so much extra love and attention to her older sister.
On Friday night as Jordan entered Christmas break, Sally decided to take the family out to dinner to celebrate her daughter’s writing achievement. Mr. Johns hadn’t made a very big deal of the issue in Sally’s estimation, but young (not little) Jordan had been the talk of the school and small church community. Everyone knew about the big award and Mrs. Reynolds was extremely proud of her daughter.
“Mom, it’s not like I’ve won anything yet anyways. I’m only a semifinalist and there are 49 other stories that are probably a million times better than mine. The competition is for 12-16 year olds and I bet all the other ones that made it through are from 16 year olds. It’s only the top 3 in the whole country that really WIN anything at all. They’re the ones that get read on National radio by a celebrity!” Jordan was saying as Sally buckled Jen into her car seat.
“Jordan! It is too a big deal. You’ve written the top story in Washington and it’s gonna be recorded and played on the radio all over our state. That’s huge and we’re gonna celebrate! NOW – where do you wanna eat?” Sally slid the door shut and scooted into the drivers’ seat.
Piping up from the back seat, Mindi shouted, “I wanna go eat at the sketti fact’ry!”
“Mee too, mee too, Sketti!!” cried Jen next to her.
Up front as Sally pulled the car out of the alley-way she said, “Now girls, this is Jordan’s special dinner, she’s gonna decide tonight.”
“But MOOOOM! She get’s to decide EVERYTHING!” Mindi whined.
Jen began a fake whine-cry as well. It was already chaos in the van.
Jordan felt a bolt of indignation as her two siblings bellyached in the back – what’s their problem? I’m the one who’s been suffering here and this is MY dinner! I wont the prize; I worked hard; and I WANT TO DECIDE!
She may have been going through puberty, growing into an adult body, and capable of writing beautiful prose, but she still was a normal, relatively immature, self-centered 7th grade girl inside. Of course, the truth was that Jordan likewise thought the Spaghetti Factory actually sounded really good but she didn’t want Mindi to feel like she had won. Thus, in immature teenage fashion (and in as clear and decisive of voice as possible) she announced, “I feel like Mexican tonight – I want El Matador.”
Groaning and more crying from the back ensued. Mindi began kicking Jordan’s seat in front of her and the two started a round of bickering and fighting. The drive East toward I-5 and then north up the hwy to Lynwood where the famed (for the Reynold’s family) Mexican restaurant was located was miserable.
The fighting didn’t end all evening.
Jen refused to try a single bite of her food and to make matters worse, she pooped her panties right there in the booth at the restaurant. Mindi stomped in and out of the establishment and made exaggerated noises and phmrummps all through dinner while throwing bits of food at and stepping on Jordan’s toes. Sally hardly was able to eat at all because of all the wrestling and distractions.
The evening hardly ended up feeling terribly celebratory for the family (newly) of 4.
At the end as they were walking back toward the van for the ride home, Sally asked Jordan what she would like to do for her thirteenth birthday that year. With all the events of the past months, Jordan had hardly thought about her approaching day (Christmas Eve). For most kids, a birthday that close to Christmas was a terrible downer and for most of her life that had been the case for her as well. Family members tend to skimp on gifts for each occasion and choose to ‘combine’ them. Friends simply omit the birthday celebration for their own family holidays. It was easy to understand but difficult to experience. On more than one year, Jordan had had no birthday party at all and instead was passed over, almost unnoticed by her mom (and especially dad). Last year, when she had turned twelve, everyone actually forgot to even say “Happy Birthday” until late in the evening on Christmas Day. It had hurt her feelings profoundly.
Sally’s question this year almost melted her heart and did in fact cause her to stop and wipe a tear from her eye before continuing to the minivan parked in the strip-mall lot.
“I’m not sure Mom, I don’t even know what we could do…it’s so close to Christmas you know?”
“Well I want to make sure your day gets celebrated this year.” Sally looked over at her daughter and smiled. “What if we did something like having a party on New Year’s Eve? Do you think you’d like something like that?” Sally walked with Jen on her hip, eyes now darting around to find Mindi in the lot.
“Well that sounds fun but I’m not sure who I’d even invite Mom…I pretty much only have one friend…” Jordan replied honestly but really actually liking the idea.
“Oh Jordan! Come on dear, you have more than one friend. What about the Yates girl or Cindy? Or what’s her name? Riley? You’re kinda friends with them aren’t you?”
Jordan’s mind flashed back to Georgia’s party – Georgia’s family name was Yates and Cindy and Riley were the other two friends invited to the slumber party besides Alex.
I wonder if they’d even be willing to come after what I did? Should I tell mom about it?…I can’t…I’m so embarrassed…Plus, she’d be SO mad!
“Ya sort of – I’m not sure they’d come though…” the pre-teen said meekly after mulling it over. She crawled into the front seat of the minivan after helping her mom buckle in Jen.
“Oh sure they’ll come sweetie. We’ll plan something really fun – maybe we can go bowling or down to a concert or skating or something? They can all come eat at our house and stay up late.” She stopped before suggesting a sleepover.
Jordan could sense her mom’s hesitation and an awkward silence ensued. They both were thinking the same thing although Jordan didn’t yet realize it.
Ah hell – I’m gonna go for it, Sally said to herself.
“Jordan – why did you not go to Georgia’s birthday party when she invited you?”
The tall brunette’s mouth just about hit the floor of the van in shock as they now drove through the darkened streets.
“MOM! Um…I…well…how did you…I…um…” She didn’t know how to respond.
“I asked you a simple question Jordie. Why didn’t you go?”
Stunned silence was all that could be heard other than the drum of the aged motor.
Sally continued, “Why didn’t you even tell me about it? You didn’t trust me? The Yates family is an extremely important and powerful family in the church and school. Do you have any idea what it means politically if our kid turns down an invite like that? It’s a huge slap in the face! It’s embarrassing!”
“But MOOOM!” Jordan finally exclaimed defensively, “They all would’a found out!!”
“JORDIE – they’re your friends…friends understand each other…friends talk…friends help each other….” Sally tried to reason.
Crossing her arms over her chest she said, “Not my friends.”
“Listen Jordan. You’ve got to learn to trust some people in your life or you’re gonna end up depressed and alone and hiding in your basement forever.” Sally tried to let that sink in a second before continuing. “Seriously. This is what I think we should do…come home from your party, watch the ball drop together and then let your friends have a choice to sleep over or not. We’ll do our best to be discreet about your nighttime issue and if it comes up, we’ll handle it and deal with it like adults. I’ll help explain and will put to death any nonsense if it arises. What do you think?” Sally truly wasn’t sure how the idea would go over but she didn’t want her girl to miss all of Jr. High because of an emotional problem tied to her divorce.
Jordan was pensive. Thinking. “…I hear what you’re saying Mom…I just don’t think I’m ready for this yet…I’m too embarrassed…”
Sally stayed quiet.
“How about we just do it without the sleepover this time? I already promised Alex that the next sleepover invite she and I get –I’ll say ‘yes’ no matter what. I’ll promise the same to you too. Ok? I just can’t do it on my birthday…”
Sally thought for a moment. Hmm. Quite the politician she is. That’s from Ted I’m sure.
“Ok sweetie, I guess that’s a good compromise. So we’ll do fun at home, skating or something, then the countdown, ball drop, ice cream and cake, and finally home with your friends?” Sally repeated.
“Yeah mom, that’d be real nice.”
Jordan felt genuinely thankful for her mom’s kindness – but for the second time in her life also felt sad about missing out on what could’ve been an essential experience of Jr. High; all because of her bedwetting.
She stared out the window as they drove home on the wet streets.
“Thanks again for the dinner tonight mom. And thanks for my party.” The words no sooner came out of her mouth than she once again felt the all-too-familiar anxiety about what was to come. But she trusted her mom enough to at least try it.
“Sure sweetheart,” Said sally, “absolutely.”