...my child sold your honor student the answers to the test...

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Dog Days

Our 3 yr old has been replaced by a dog, or so it seems. This past week, Ashe has decided that he is no longer a kid but a canine. Trying to sort laundry while your child sits upon the mountain of clothing and attacks a towel barking and growling is an experience every mom should have at least once in their lifetime.

It's not a new thing, this insistence on being a dog. There have been a few times I have shopped at Target and he has dropped on all fours out of the blue and started yipping. One time I glanced longingly at the pet department and wondered if it would be a bad Mom moment if I bought a leash. Take heart. I didn't buy one. I found out my "doggie" came knowing how to heal already. And he doesn't bite ankles either.

But this week he's taken it up a notch and has been galavanting all around the house on hands and knees, insisting he is a dog, barking at me while I try to get things done, and even once coming to curl up in my lap and licked me. I was all happy, thinking I was about to get a kiss and instead he slurped my face from jawbone to hairline, giggled, and scampered off with a ruff.

A couple nights ago, after dealing with his insistence that he wont eat people food, only dog bones, I decided to try and trick him into eating ravioli, calling them dog bones. Hey, they're white. He doesnt know the difference. While I boiled them up he kept asking me as he hopped around on all fours when his dog bones would be ready. Alas, when it was time for dinner and I proudly gave him his "canine cuisine" he refused to eat. /Sigh

I guess I should be happy. Xavier went through the same phase around the same age and he was worse. I vividly remember a few times of him insisting on eating his food in a bowl on the floor under the dining room table. I put my foot down when he started begging for scraps though. Ashe hasn't gotten that far yet. I'm thankful for that.

Yesterday Ashe came over to me and curled himself up in my lap. I stroked his hair as I held him and we contentedly cuddled for a bit. When he decided he had enough he sat up, took my face in his little hands and said "MOMMY, I A CAT! MEOW." He jumped off my lap and off the bed, ran out the door on all fours again, meowing all the way.

Right now Im just glad he doesn't cough up hair balls. Ahh, to be 3 again.

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