The Fine Line Between Attention-Seeking and Adoration...July 22, 1999

The Fine Line Between Attention-Seeking and Adoration...July 22, 1999

Another Thursday evening, and another day trying to amuse my overnight client, keep my sanity, prevent injury to the pets, him or myself, keep both of us medicated, and at least one of us alive in the process (someone has to tell the story).

I write this entry under the guise of checking my email, and thus needing privacy (though I ought not need a reason), since he feels I cannot have more than one or two minutes separate from him at any given interval. If I take longer, he begins to lurk in the hallway. He will first pretend to go to the bathroom, and then sneak down the hall and stand just outside the office, trying to peek at what I am doing. If these sniper tactics do not work, and I try to ignore him as one does a mosquito in the room after bedtime, he stomps downstairs as loudly and harshly as he can. Knowing that reprimanding him at that exact moment merely serves to feed into his negative attention getting manoeuvres, I remain silent. I think about just how I can re-word "Please stop stomping your feet", but after repeating variances of the phrase a thousand times fruitlessly, even the writer in me screams redundancy. And finally, given the futility of his boot-scooting, he will sit downstairs and talk at the top of his lungs, interspersed with "Just how long are you going to be agaiiiinnnnn??!!". After a few minutes of this, I usually intervene. The one time I ignored this tactic for too long, he did something to make Reekie cry. I am afraid to know what it was, would never get the truth out of him anyway, so I do not push it to that extent.

"Choose your battles wisely", could be the title of my autobiography. I say it enough. I should get it tatooed. It is becoming my creed.

Even now, as I hear that distinct, light swishing sound of sock feet, hear the slightly more audible creaking of floorboards, and feel the hair on the back of my neck extend, I know he is just entering the lurking stage. This indicates to me that I have approximately five to ten minutes writing time to go.

At eleven, I figure he should have the capacity to amuse himself for a few minutes sans me. I have said as much to him just as many times as I have asked him to stop his clogging impressions. It is not like he has not had my complete and undivided attention for most of the day, right from the time he was dropped off by his foster mother an hour and a half early (need I give an explaination for that?). Almost as quickly as his foster mom peeled out of the driveway, we played N64. We went to the grocery store. We went to my sister's. We went to the park. We rented N64 games. We had my nephew over to play with us. I ask you, what crime am I committing in asking for even a half hour to myself, to regroup, get grounded, collect my thoughts? One would think a capitol one. Perhaps I should surrender myself and save taxpayers' money.

Hark! A sound emanating from outside my office: Stomp ,stomp, stomp, sigh, groan, stomp, stomp, stomp, sigh, groan, stomp, stomp.....

Less than a couple minutes to go. Fear not Reekie. I'll be there shortly.

The worst, and I meant worst, is when he sits or stands outside the bathroom door when I am in there. It does not matter in the slightest what I may be doing. He's right on the other side. To say that I find this highly disconcerting, and a gross invasion of my privacy, would be understating just exactly how I feel. The one time I actually caught him doing it, (I opened the door and he did not move fast enough), I was very upset. In my typically calm, rational manner, I explained to him that under no uncertain terms is he to be lurking when someone is going about their bathroom business. I explained to him how intruded upon one ends up feeling. He got the message that I was not happy. Now, he stands a few feet away so as not to get hit by the door.

I have to run. We have entered the yelling-my-name stage. Run for cover Reekie!

And to think psychologists and psychiatrists cannot find anything wrong with this child. Perhaps they should consult Reekie.

...Blessed Be