One evening, not long after we bought our house in 1998, I was home alone when I noticed a car slow down, then stop out front.  From my bedroom window I could see two men sitting in the front seat, looking up at my house.

They pulled away, but a few minutes later they were back.  This went on a few times…them slowing, then stopping in front of the house, then pulling away, only to return again.

As dark approached, I called my husband and asked him to hurry home.  Then I called my sister-in-law, who lived nearby.  Right after I hung up with her, I stood frozen in the dark corner of my living room as I saw one of the men peeking in the window just a few feet from where I was standing.

My first call was to the police (the man was caught and arrested at the end of my street) and my second call was to my husband to tell him that I wanted a dog.  Like, now.

A month later we went to look at a litter of Labradors.  I didn’t pick out the snugly pup or the one who was covering me with kisses.  I chose the dog who was pulling my purse across the driveway.

Here’s a hint…when choosing a puppy, the one who pulls your purse across the driveway may also turn out to be the one who drags a 25 lb., frozen turkey out of the kitchen sink and tears it to shreds that you find all over your house.

She may be the one who gets the trash can off the kitchen counter and spreads coffee grounds and dirty diapers in every room.

She could be the dog that you refer to as, “The Shark” because she eats everything in sight, including the entire box of doughnuts belonging to the construction workers down the street, a 12 inch tall, solid-chocolate bunny, a breast pad, and a ham shank that makes her leave piles of diarrhea and vomit all over the house. 

Also, that mess might just be discovered on your 30th birthday AND be smelled all the way from your garage.  Your detached garage.

Did I mention that she may jump the fence and run away frequently too?  So, you’ll have that going for you.

But, she might also be the dog who fiercely protects you and viciously barks at anyone who even looks at your yard.  She could be the one thing that makes you feel safe in your own home, because you know she wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.

She may be the most loyal partner you could ask for, but once you have a baby she leaves your side to go lay under the crib. 

She could be one of the best dogs you ever have.

But damn, it’s going to hurt your heart bad when she gets old.

Fair warning.

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One of my son’s many issues is Sensory Processing Disorder.  It affects him in various ways, not the least of which is that certain smells and textures can make him physically ill.

About a month ago he missed a day of school, not because he had a cold, but because we couldn’t get him dressed.  He wouldn’t even put on pajamas so that I could take him to my mom’s house.  When we tried, he ran to the bathroom with his pants around his ankles and threw up.

On a typical day, it isn’t unusual for him to visit the nurses office because his feet itch.  I can’t get him to wear his coat zipped up.  He is one of two kids in his private school who don’t have to tuck in their shirts.  Seat belts bother him.  He didn’t learn to ride a bike until he was seven because we couldn’t get him to wear a bike helmet.

It is heartbreaking and frustrating at the same time.

Not long ago, I was contacted by a representative from Smart Knit Kids asking if I would like to try a pair of their Seamless Sensitivity Socks for my son.  I was told that these socks are great for kids with sensory issues or autism because they are form-fitting and won’t bunch up.  Also, the design means there are no seams to bother tender feet.

I have to admit that I was skeptical.  I mean, sure my kid takes his shoes and socks off as soon as he walks in the door every afternoon and goes barefoot any time he is able.  Sure, he won’t wear footies or thick socks.  Sure, I had heard that a typical person puts on their socks, then forgets about them, but a person with Sensory Processing Disorder puts on their socks and knows they are there all day long.  They never stop feeling the sensation.  Still…it seemed over the top to me.

Nevertheless, I told the representative we would try them.

I rarely, if ever, post reviews of products on this page.  I would venture to say that 99.9% of you did not come here to read about my son’s socks, but please do me a favor, if you know someone who has a child with sensory issues, tell them about these socks.

They really are seamless, they really don’t fall down and if I didn’t know they were made with polyester and Lycra, I would think they had stitched them out of magic fabric.

My son checks before bed to make sure he has a pair of “lucky socks” to wear to school the next day.  Instead of fighting me, he actually begs to wear them.  You have no idea how much easier my mornings have become.  Did you see what I did there?  I just used “easier” and “mornings” in the same sentence.  If you don’t believe me, look at all of these testimonials from other parents.

I am not the person who created them, nor am I a representative of the stores which sell them.  I am not responsible for marketing them in any way.  I am simply the mother of a child who loves these socks.  And, that?  Makes a big difference in our lives.

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The principal at the school where I work, and where my children attend, was walking through the cafeteria the other day when I saw her stop to talk to my son.  A few minutes later, I took a big gulp as she approached the kitchen where I was working. 

Not that I was terribly worried, as his blatant honesty has prepared me for anything.

Let’s review, shall we?

He once told a doctor that she had a, “really, really, really big nose” and he told an elderly woman that she was dead.  He saw a wrinkled, old lady at the store and said that she needed to use lotion and has even complimented large people…by telling them that he likes their “chinny chin chins.”

And, let’s not forget when he named his testicles, Racer and Jennifer, then proceeded to tell complete strangers about his “babies”.

My son keeps things interesting.  Although he has a whole lot of quirks, there is one part of his behavior that is constant; you never know what he is going to say.

I was thinking of this when the principal walked up to me and stated, “Diane, I have to tell you what your son just said.”

I began to form an apology in my head, but then she continued, “He wanted to wish me a happy afternoon and tell me that he’s been praying for my sister.  He says the most appropriate things!”

To which I replied, “Give him a minute.”

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A funny thing happens when, in a seven-day period, you have three doctor’s appointments, your car gets broken into, you take your kids trick-or-treating, have friends over for dinner, then your other friends open an art gallery, you attend a Cub Scout outing and fill thirty-six bags full of leaves.  Thirty.  Six.

All of that?  Means you don’t have time for a blog post.

So, in light of the events of the last week, and in lieu of an actual post, here is a continuation of my Life List. 

11.  Visit the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem.  Probably not the safest place to travel, but I’m willing to risk it.

12.  Get a tattoo.  This will be over my husband’s dead body.

13.  Taste each chocolate in the Intense collection from Richart Chocolates.  The categories are Balsamic, Roasted, Fruity, Citrus, Herbal, Floral and Spiced.  Need I say more?

14.  Go skinny dipping.  This won’t be pretty, so I’ll likely go it alone.

15.  Grow my own tomatoes.  Because my in-laws are probably tired of giving us all of theirs.

16.  Take a dance class.  I’d like it to be an old-school, hip-hop class, but I’m close to 40 and I think it might be illegal to shake my groove thing like that in public.  Polka, anyone?

17.  Learn how to properly skip a stone.  Though, not at the same time as #14.

18.  Sample 100 types of beer.  Natural Light Ice, I am not talking to you.

19.  Renew my wedding vows with my kids present.  That sound you just heard?  That was my husband screaming.

20.  Breed a dog and keep one of the puppies.  Yep, that’s still my husband.

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