June Owen

When we were planning Owen’s first train trip, we told him about it, and then tried hard to get him to understand that we weren’t going on the train that very minute.  We kept saying “not today, tomorrow.”  Although I’m not sure how much of that he understood, it is now one of his favorite instructions to pass on to others, including geese.  Owen and I went to feed the geese with their five goslings on Sunday, and after we had given them their food, we left saying we would be back.  And then Owen added several times, “But not today!  Tomorrow”  “Not today!  Tomorrow!”  I hope the geese understood.

Owen still gets the order of words mixed up, and pronouns in general.  He says “I carry you” when he means “Will you carry me?”  And he always shrieks, “Catch you me!” and then runs away, and we are supposed to run after him and catch him.

Susan will be stern with Owen when he isn’t listening to her (plus they have a running joke that Dorothy doesn’t listen to Nanny.)  So the other day, Owen was trying to follow Sean into the front yard, instead of staying in the back with me, as he was supposed to do.  I called for him to come here, and Owen called back, “Owen’s not listening to mommy!”

I warned Owen the other day that it was almost bath time, so that he should prepare himself to go upstairs.  He first held out a bouquet of splayed fingers and said, “I need four times!” (times meaning minutes).  Then when I agreed to four minutes, he said, “Be patient, Mommy.  Take a deep breath.”

He makes us laugh by making our kisses fly off his face with a little whoosh sound.  He did this one day when we were outside and I kissed his cheek.  We were under a tree, so after whooshing the kiss away, he told me it was flying up to the kiss tree above (to perch on the branches I suppose).  And now he often talks about the kiss tree.

Ever since we planted the garden, he is very aware of seeds, and seeds growing into plants.  Sean eats sesame seed bagels, so as I’m sure you can guess, Owen now calls them bagel seeds and asked if they’d grow into a bagel if we planted them.

He says “wheelbabble” for wheelbarrow, and “cracksmasher” for backscratcher.

He’s also completely lost his shyness, and will say, “Hi, I’m Owen!  What are you doing?” to anyone we see, including everyone shopping in Target and anyone we pass by on a walk.  People often ask him how old he is, but he doesn’t quite get the question (or counting yet in general), so will answer with gusto, “Owen Martin Gares!”

He’s still having mini-fits, although they are generally too fleeting to be called tantrums.  For example, he came with me last Saturday to take Dorothy to the vet, and when we left, and got in the car, he had a HUGE fit that came out of nowhere, because he didn’t want to take Dorothy home.  He wanted to a) go straight to the carnival we were going to in an hour, and b) go back to the vet.  He screamed and tears poured from his face for the whole ten-minute ride home, and then it was over.  I will try to redirect his interest during these fits, and if that doesn’t work, I just ignore him.

The screaming at us – it’s a quick shriek – is a new thing.  He was doing it to Sean the other day, for a reason I forget, and when I asked him if he wanted to go somewhere with me, he turned to face me, stopped the shrieking, and said in a quiet, pleasant voice, “But Mommy, I’m screaming at Daddy.”  Well, then!  Carry on!