Summer 2021-ish: T. Train(ing), Water Wagon, Disappearing's Dissonance in a Diaper of Disdain

Max once again is refusing to participate in Haven’s toilet training.

He has regularly shown intentional abuse-neglect to Haven when it comes to diapering:

“Haven said he didn’t poop”

“Haven said he didn’t want me to change him”

“I didn’t see any poop”

“I didn’t smell any poop”

He won’t warm up wipes before wiping Haven. I told Max to wipe his own ass with one to see how cold it actually is.

He makes Haven sleep all night in piss and shit soaked diapers; diapers soaked to the maximum, until moisture leaks onto Haven and wherever he is laying/sitting.

This is a photo I took on July 21, 2021 at 7:36 a.m. after finding Haven crying next to his unresponsive father. This diaper is completely soaked , as you can see. The yellow color is a decent clue as to its complete, gag-inducing saturation. Haven's never had an issue with wetting the bed at nighttime if he's not wearing a diaper; I don't understand why Max won't just take it off when he smells the poop and

Haven didn’t want me to remove his diaper, but reluctantly let me, showing very aggressively unhappy behavior - glaring, almost hitting me as part of a push away with his arms.

I was gentle with my movements, used a gentle voice and was trying to coax him with what I felt to be calming words

It was soft poop- he ate an entire clamshell of raspberries last night. When I told him I needed to wipe him, he screamed and ran from me.

Mama! Mama! He screamed when I went to wipe him with a wipe that I had him watch me heat up in hot water.

I was only able to get one wipe done - he wanted to go outside after, so we did. I planned to wipe out there, but got too busy playing. Put up the umbrella in the yard and organized his sandboxes.

“This is an attempt by Teressa Fauver to gain custody of our son, Haven Wagner, & use that to get herself housing.”

erin.nichols@dcyf.wa.gov

Scooped dead flies and foliage out of kiddie pool. Helped with small-miniature red flyer wagon he brought outside with the food bank food he’d loaded it with: a can of garbanzo beans (government label), can of government pears, single serve box of 1% milk. Watered tomato plants and garden. Haven took over the hose, was filling up cups to dump on tilty water toys so I had him use the hose to fill up the cups for me while I dumped them. He moved to watering plants, out to the road, was trying to take the hose up past the yard to the street. I lied and told him we were out of hose length, I could tell he was telling me to just unwind the hose to get it to stretch further out for him- I admitted to lying and told him why I lied.

Went to look for “hose accessories” to give Haven something else to do - brought back a big wagon and square plastic bucket. We washed the wagon; he liked me to fil up the bucket with bubbles and he would dump the entire thing on the wagon. We were poking our fingers through the bottom holes while the wagon was on its side and we were on opposite sides of the wagon from each other.

Haven made a game of running from the water stream of bubbles exiting the filled-up square bucket and then the wagon and down the hill - it reminded me of playing in ocean surf. Back and forth he ran, eventually dumping the bubble bucket entirely. I refilled them directly on the ground. Next, he got in the wagon with the bucket and put his feet in the bucket while I filled it with water and bubbles. I had to make him sit. I didn’t want him to fall on the concrete. He wasn’t wearing pants and when he had the hose, I saw him directly spraying parts of his male privates with it - just as the mailman approached on foot.

Haven had the hose again and indicated he wanted to run through the water like a sprinkler, so I set up the hose on top of the black chain link fence, placed between the pinwheel flower (“purple” - a color Haven enjoys speaking) and the end post, with the nozzle set on one of the mist settings.

Haven ran and then I suggested that I run, too. We started at opposite ends from each other. He grinned and ran towards me as I trotted towards him. He put his head down to avoid getting the spraying water in his eyes and ran right toward me! I dodged my next step to try and avoid a collision, but he still softly bumped my hip and fell to the concrete.

>>>When Max brought Haven over last Saturday and left him even though I told him I had no food or water for Haven, I noticed Haven’s shoes were on the wrong feet.<<<

Haven woke up this early evening from his nap, then went back to sleep after I comforted him. He was heart-wrenching. He sat up in bed, screaming: daddy!!! Then saying where daddy?! And mumbling words he isn’t yet able to enunciate the way he can clearly understand them when they’re spoken by someone else. But it’s obvious what he was talking about. The trauma of the continued abandonment he experiences at the hands of his father. Something like

Why doesn't he care about me

Where is daddy how could he leave me why did he leave me again

What did I do wrong

What did I do I’m sorry daddy I’m sorry I love you daddy please I love you please daddy where are you

Daddy why don't you love me please daddy please don't leave me why do you leave me

He thinks his dad treats him this way because he’s not good enough or important enough for his attention, that there’s something wrong with him, that there are things better than him, more important than him, that deserve to have his daddy’s attention, interest, time, presence, love.

It makes him insecure; he doesn’t have any idea where his deficiency lies, or where the favord’s superiority is. He is afraid to lose his father’s attention completely, the amount of it that he does get, he wants and needs to communicate to him how devastating it is to sleep with him near and wake up to an empty vehicle, an empty bed, an empty room, on an uncomfortable couch or the floor, where your screams aren’t heard by any one and only echo or are absorbed by insulated walls. No one can hear you, and if they do, they don’t care about your experience. There’s no indication of notice, no form of response to your pleas, to your apologies, to your revived devastation- NO not again please no no no daddy where are you daddy please

If he only knew how much you love him, if you could only express how horrified you are, how devastated, he would never do this to you. The need to impress, the desperate need for his daddy’s attention, all of it all of the time, is spawned by the deep-seeded, lifelong insecurity carelessly created and solidified by his indifferent “daddy.”

I think this is one of the only other dirty diaper pictures I have. I photographed the ones I did in case I needed evidence of the true extent of Max's laziness, and now I wish I would have taken more pictures of dirty diapers. And I might have, had I not been so overwhelmed with disgust and loathing for Haven's father during that very critical time when I was removing the diaper from Haven as calmly as possible -- I didn't want him to think that my anger stemmed from him in any way. I don't know how calm I actually was most of the time, but I do know I meant to be, and my heart was in the right place, at least concerning Haven. I was very caught up in the act of getting this literal sh*t off my son, the horrible and completely unnecessary, humiliating suffering - that was INTENTIONALLY allowed/caused by his father (2 different things, but I'm not sure how confident I am in Max's intent here - was he just being lazy, or was him doing this to Haven every time I wasn't around one of his passive aggressive, intentional methods of abuse?)

Max Wagner's drug dealer just after exiting my vehicle