Who Let the Dogs Out

Ethan, the four year old autistic one?  He sometimes acts like he’s a dog.

He flounces around on all fours, barks, and brings stuff to me in his mouth.  He even licks me, but that could just be unresolved oral issues.

I humor him, because I think it could be a useful skill at some point.  You know – “bring me my slippers, honey” or “bite that intruder!”

But now little Beckett is doing it.  He’s only 21 months, and he is so stinkin’ cute with his little puppy noises, I can’t stand it.  He crawls over to me when I sit on the floor and nuzzles his little soft head in my lap and my heart just goes goosh.  So I let him do it, too.

What I’m wondering is, am I helping solidify some kind of maladaptive means of them getting their needs met?  Is Ethan going to bite strangers like he now bites his brother and me?  Is Beckett going to be labeled a weirdo because he wants to be scratched behind the ears by his girlfriend?

These are the things that worry me as a parent.  I don’t want to end up on some National Geographic special with kids that can’t speak but only make barking sounds while bounding around the fenced-in back yard.

But I think the problem has resolved itself.  Tonight they threw cereal around on the floor and got down on their hands and knees to eat it.

And Ethan said, “Look, mom!  We’re chickens!”

Twelve Steps Away From My Desk

“My name is Jennifer, and I’m addicted to comment threads.”

“Hi, Jennifer.”

It started innocently enough.

Or not.

Look, I’m a black hole of need, okay?  If some brilliant person wants to throw down the gauntlet and have a little back and forth wordplay, I’m all over it.  I live to be clever.  I need the affirmation that my brain has not, as I previously suspected, turned to mush.

I hit a comment thread and I just can’t let go.

I have even been known to dream about commenting.

I’m sick, I tell you.

I’m walking my dog, pushing the stroller, and all I can think is, “What would the saucy tomato bunny from that comic pulp fiction thread say next?”

I spend 10 minutes or more editing a comment.  If I’m away from the computer for a while, I get edgy and irritable.  My skin itches.  This is a cry for help, people.  I need a serious interventi

um hey. this is barelyknittedtogs or whatever she calls herself daughter. i’m sick of like sitting here waiting 4 her to finish ths whatever thing n i don wnt to sit around herr all freakin day so just like go do somethin else for a while and giv me back my moms for chrissakes.  all this comment anxiety shit is harshing my mellow.

<3 (thats a kiss and rite now it means buh-bye 4 all u old foks who don’t know)