Owen in September

I haven’t been feeling very loquacious lately, so I let a week or so go by with no blog updates.  Oh the horror.  All is well on the homefront though:  we are enjoying weather that allows for no air conditioning and no heat, I am regularly attacking the cats with “the furminator,” a new comb/brush guaranteed to decrease hairballs by 90%, Dorothy is a delight (she now sleeps downstairs on her own and the choice was hers!), and Owen is maturing in ways that are very entertaining to observe.

He is on the verge of really talking – at the moment he says a lot of words when he’s not thinking about it.  He’ll say “thank you” and “good” and “good boy” if he isn’t paying too much attention to the process.  If we ask him to say something, he’ll get shy and won’t do it.  He will answer when asked what sounds certain animals make, his favorite at the moment being fish and monkeys, dogs and cows.  He also (finally!) is practicing his M sounds and will greet me when I get home at the end of the day with a Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom!  And then he bursts into tears when I go to take out my contacts.

He still mainly crawls and walks sideways while holding onto something like a coffee table, but has several times been holding a toy in each hand and taken a few steps from table to couch, or table to tv console.  Like with the talking, he is liable to perform new skills when he isn’t paying attention to what he is doing.

He started a new music class with Susan this past week, and participates a little more each time.  He shakes an “egg”, hits sticks together, plays the drums, and even sang a bit at the end of the class.  He also at class and at home will do a (hilarious) dance that involves a somewhat lewd grinding of his hips.  His favorite song right now is “Easy, Easy” by King Krule and he will come crawling whenever he hears it begin, and then immediately get into dance position and have at it.  Owen will also dance when Sean does his verbal beat box—and the dance he does to that is different from the dance he does to King Krule.  The boy has rhythm.

Owen’s sleeping is still a grab bag of awakenings.  He tends to still wake up every two hours throughout the night; if I’m lucky, there’s a four-hour stretch in there at some point.  I’m beginning to think of weaning, although to be honest I’d much prefer that Owen initiates it himself.  Babies do that, right?  So far he hasn’t seemed inclined to give up his mom-produced snacks. 

It's hard to get pictures of Owen because he is always on the move, and when you interrupt him on his way from somewhere to somewhere, he gets mad and does this kicking / writhing / whining spasm which always makes me giggle.  Beware the wrath of a toddler!