Allow myself to introduce … my family!

Family time! I don’t think I’ve really introduced my family yet. Let’s do it! I live with my husband, two kids, and a beautiful, oversized cat named Loki. (No, he isn’t named after the god or the heartthrob, though he’s as mischievous as both and [almost] as gorgeous as the latter. His name’s Lachlyn, actually, but we call him Loki, because I was in college when he adopted us and it –like majoring in English — made sense at the time.)

I’ll probably connive my brilliant, long-suffering husband into guest posting here at some point, assuming I can actually keep up with the blog this time (and he promises not to admit just how irritating it can be to live with someone this enamored with new projects) so I’ll let him introduce himself as he chooses then.

My son is a first grader with his dad’s vivid blue eyes and a truly daunting love of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. He’s also an expert climber … which is beginning to pose a problem, see, because he’s discovered that the back fence is totally climbable. He has mild to moderate autism and pretty severe sensory processing disorder (SPD, a disorder that makes your brain interpret your senses differently than most others do; I didn’t know, either). He is six, and doesn’t speak, though he’s beginning to make progress using his iPad as a communication device. (The app he uses is ProloquoToGo, which I’m sure I’ll post about at some point.)

He also hates wearing pants. Can’t say that I blame him, really.

My daughter is an extroverted, highly verbal three-year-old; she has a vocabulary of a much older child, and with an intuitive grasp of the nuances of expressive inflection that puts most adults to shame. She’s also really into play doh — not only, you know, playing with it, but also watching videos of people making things with it. It’s apparently a big thing these days. Who knew? She loves to paint and play hide and seek (though she’s fond of shouting, “HI! I’M IN MY ROOM!” whenever it’s her turn for hiding).

There’s something quite delightful in the way the two of them interact. They chase each other around the backyard — he looks behind him to make sure she’s following, she sometimes takes his hand and they walk around together. He turns on the sprinkler for them to run through. When he gets upset, she’s started looking through their toys and bringing him things to chew on or fidget with, or sitting with him and petting his hair (which may or may not be what he wants at the time, but hey).

We also have a part-time nanny who watches them during the weekday afternoons so I can write. She has been a godsend — for both of them. (And for us.) I’m sure there’s a lengthy and effusive post in my future about our childcare decisions, but for now I’ll just let you draw your own conclusions from the fact that I introduce her in the “this is our family” section.

So … yeah. This is our family.

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