Owen January Flotsam

Owen has somehow learned that every nail should have a hammer, and every hammer should have a nail.  There’s a nail sticking out of the wall above his changing table (from a picture that used to hang there until he grew big enough to always kick it off the wall while his diaper was being changed), and when he notices it he will ask for a hammer, I guess so that he can hammer the nail further into the wall.  Last night he was hiding behind the curtains in the living room and discovered a needle leftover from our Christmas tree, and he exclaimed, “A nail!” and promptly got out his toolkit to find his hammer, so that he could hammer the “nail” into the TV table.  Needless to say, this didn’t work.

He is bothered by shadows on his wall at night now.  There is one above a bookshelf and he will ask me, somewhat sheepishly, “Will the shadow get me?”  I say no, it is just decoration, and he seems appeased, except that ten minutes later when Sean is in the room he will ask him the same thing.

I asked Owen when I got in the car last night if he had fun at nursery school that morning and he replied, “Ummmm, no.”  And then wouldn’t elaborate.

He did get all excited a few days ago when I asked him about school, and said that Mary had dropped her juice SPLAT! on the ground.  (And each time he said it he would make the motion with his hand of something falling down hard.)  He likes a good dropping story, apparently.  He also said Mary cried and the teachers cleaned the juice up with paper towels.  It really is the most detailed account of school we’ve received from him.  Susan checked with the teacher on a whim when she was dropping him off yesterday and it was true!  Mary did indeed spill her juice.  I can only hope that Owen won’t tell the story to Mary herself.

We got Owen a Thomas the Train potty the other day to try to get him interested in the idea of doing his business on a toilet instead of in his diaper.  So far he is completely uninterested in it, other than to point excitedly at the Thomas pictures on the lid.  I need to come up with a way to make the concept appealing to him; how do oldest or only children get interested in the toilet?  I do not know.  He will ask us to change his diaper now, so he definitely knows when he is going.

I am working up to stopping Owen’s nursing, which he still does before bed and first thing in the morning.  He will be two and a half in February though, and it is time, even if he doesn’t think so.  My plan is to stop the evening nursing at the end of January, and then stop the morning nursing at the end of February.  I anticipate much drama, but am hoping I’m wrong.  When I think of not nursing him, I am fine with that; but when I think of him crying for it and me saying no, I waver a bit.  I had been waiting for him to self-wean, but I really don’t think that will ever happen.

We have a merry-go-round in our nearby mall, and Owen likes to ride on it.  I will stand next to his horse, and then each time we pass by Sean he will call out “Hi Daddy!  See you soon!”  He gets really excited while waiting for the ride to start, and his teeth will begin to chatter in anticipation.

Owen still eats hardly anything but pretzels and fruit.  Sigh.  But most nights if I ask him what he wants for dinner, he’ll answer with an enthusiastic, “Spaghetti!”  So often I will cook him some angel hair pasta and put on some butter and cheese, but he mostly only plays with it.  Tonight he asked for "Spaghetti!" and I had some leftovers so I took it out of the refrigerator in a clear tupperware, and when he saw it in there he started counting, "1-2-3...5 ghetties!"  And after requesting a fork, he actually ate several mouthfuls of angel hair with parmesan.

Owen These Days

Sean’s been working with Owen on his counting, and he no longer thinks ghee and pa are part of the numerical sequence.  But he will still tend to reach either five or ten when he counts, no matter how many objects are actually there.  He’s getting there though!  He will sometimes now open up his five fingers as he counts to five.  He’ll ask for a cookie, and when I say no, he’ll then ask for one two three four five cookies? – fanning out his fingers as he does so.  Um, no to that request too, Owen!

He’s a friendly little fellow.  He has always liked saying goodbye to people, especially when he wants them to leave, and when we took him to an emergency pediatrician a few Saturdays ago because he had an ear infection, he very happily said “Bye doc-tor!” several times as we were on our way out the door.  When he walks into his nursery school classroom, I’m told, he also will very happily proclaim, “Hello everybody!”  He’s our own little Norm.

Owen remains very polite, thanks to Susan’s teachings.  He only ever says “yes please” or “no, thank you”, and never will just say yes or no.  (In fact, when he was crying when the doctor listened to his chest with her stethoscope, he was crying, “No, thank you, doc-tor!” over and over.)  He is always saying “Sorry, Mommy!” or “Sorry, Daddy!” (although Sean pointed out that he doesn’t say his s’s yet, so says Horry instead).  And his latest thing is to say “Excuse me,” when he is walking through a store and comes across a person in his path.

We were at the library last weekend and when a girl around his age came up to him, Owen smiled and said, “Hello!”  The girl just stared at him.  So he tried again:  “Hello!” with a smile.  No answer.  Then he looked at me and said, “Mommy, it’s a kid!”  Such the only child, our Owen.

Owen Flotsam

Owen is very polite these days when he wants to be.  He almost always answers “Yes, please, Mommy” or “No thank you, Mommy” – and this is all thanks to Susan, with perhaps a bit of Peppa Pig thrown in.  I noticed the other day that he is not averse to needling me about my own manners, and if he gives me a toy to hold and I don’t say anything, he will supply the proper words for me and say, “Thank you, O-Wen!”  Repeatedly.  Until I get the hint and say it myself.

He still is a very picky eater and eats next to nothing except fruit, yogurt, and pretzels.  The other day Sean was cooking some hotdogs though and for unknown reasons this made quite an impression on Owen.  He insisted on being in the kitchen with Sean, and keeping up a constant narrative about how Daddy was cooking hot-dogs.  And then he ate a hotdog and a bun!  Separately, but still!  Not that a hotdog is a healthy foodstuff, but at this point anything that isn’t fruit or a snack food seems like a minor victory.  Owen continued to talk of how Daddy cooked hotdogs for a good four or five days after the fancy feast.

Owen spoke with “Ghee and Pa” via Facetime the other day for the first time, and it was a big hit.  Of course this brought up the whole Pa dropping his fork episode from the summer, and I had to listen to many recitals of this tale of woe after the call.  Owen will also tell a similar tale about himself, usually right after he has put something he shouldn’t have into Dorothy’s waterdish.  After I scold him, he will then proceed to hit his head with his hand and say, “Oh no!  Owen dropped _____ into the waterdish!”  Sigh.  I look forward to when Owen can walk past the pets' waterdish without feeling compelled to drop something in it....

Fall Bullets

First of all, does anyone want to purchase some delicious fruit and for a good cause?!  If so, go to, and I kid you not, www.yummybandfruit.com and then click on the button that says ship to anywhere in the continental US.  When you place your order, please choose “Lily Hunter” (my niece!) from the “Choose Seller” menu.  Yum!  You know you like to get fruit nestled in a crate.

I tend to get USA healthcare rage, and this tendency was only augmented the other day when suffering a bad sinus infection, I called my doctor to get antibiotics, and was told that she had to see me first, and then that her first available appointment was in the second week of December.  Keep up the good work, USA!  If only we had the same healthcare plan as our senators and representatives….

Martha came to visit a few weekends ago!  I haven’t been in a writing mood so have not yet recorded the visit on my blog (although Martha did so on her blog here).  For unknown reasons, Owen called Martha “Apple” and enjoyed bossing Apple around on Friday night.  On Saturday poor Owen came down with the First Nursery School Illness of 2014 (an illness with which I am still afflicted, sigh), so was feeling poorly all day.  But we did go to a playground and he had a good time swinging with his auntie.  Since she left, Owen has asked about Apple frequently.  The other day he asked me if Apple poops.

Owen is liking his nursery school and didn’t cry when Susan dropped him off on Thursday.  He brought home this lovely picture he made using fall leaves:

Owen talks A. Lot. these days.  He will chatter throughout dinner, not letting Sean or me get a word in edgewise.  He likes to point out what we are all having to eat and drink (Mommy wawa, Daddy beah, O milk), and then he likes to point to what’s on our plate and ask if he can “hold it”?  Not that I believe in the communal plate (and have indeed been known to use my fork as a weapon if someone reaches towards my plate when it has dessert on it), but since Owen doesn’t eat much variety, I’ve been letting him “hold it” and take a few bites of whatever it is.  

Owen will gladly tell you, if you ask, that Posy (Popey) likes cupcakes, Plum (Pum) likes o-gurt from a finger, and Dorothy (Dorty now, and no longer Dorr Dorr) likes a hamburger.  Yesterday Owen asked for candy corn in a cup for dinner, and had a tantrum when we said, um, no.

If Owen is mad at us, he will tell us bye bye.  Bye bye Mommy or bye bye Daddy means, please leave the room; you are dismissed.  Little tyrant.

Here he is playing with the Peppa Pig dollhouse he got from Susan and his grandmother:

Dorothy had her last laser treatment the other day.  We are still restricting her movement to try to give both of her knees more time to heal.  She actually doesn’t seem to mind spending most of her day lying on her back on the couch.

Slander!

Owen’s been getting up at 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning and calling the night a day, so to speak.  This is very much not okay, and I absolutely refuse to let him get up before 5:15, and even that time makes me grumpy.  6:15 is a much more civilized time to get out of bed, if you ask me.  Anyway, after getting up in the wee small hours of the morning, Owen is often tired throughout the day (hello consequence).  Here he is pretending to sleep during music class.

Owen Almost Two

Owen is very fond of the Peppa Pig cartoon.  He also likes to make the oinking/grunting sound that Peppa and her family make, and he is quite good at it.  The boy oinks like a pro.  Unfortunately, when he was at Whole Foods with Sean not too long ago, he oinked at a fellow shopper, who, Sean informs me, was rather pinkish in color.  Thankfully, Sean is pretty sure that the woman did not hear Owen’s oinking.

And while I am on the subject of Owen out and about with Sean, can I hear a boo hiss for all the credit Sean gets from strangers for taking his son on errands?  People see a man with a baby and act like it’s the cutest thing ever, whereas when they see a toddler with a mother, it is just ordinary.  I’m glad Sean takes Owen out and about, don’t get me wrong, and he does so more than I do, but sometimes I have to roll my eyes at the kudos he receives in the check-out line.

Owen is talking so much more these days.  He says “thank you” now, and instead of just taking my hand and trying to pull me someplace, he will take my hand and with great effort enunciate a “Help” (which is more like a hhhhalllp.)  If he sees a mess on the ground, he will also say, “paper towel!” and run and get one to clean it up.  He can still be a little unclear as to when he should say thank you though.  For example, he was supposed to be sharing a toy rake with his friend, Guiliana, and when it was just a few seconds into Guiliana's turn, Owen grabbed the rake back and said, "thank you."  Oh dear.

One of Owen’s favorite things to do is walk up to the nearby bus stop and sit and watch the traffic go by.  Of course, he gets excited when what passes is a bus or a truck

He watches a show called “Wheels on the Bus” (or something like that), during which they sing the song often.  It is all a group of people and puppets on a bus and they go different places.  There’s also singing and the occasional dance.  During one song, I’m told, Owen will join in and sing the whole thing, with a very heartfelt expression on his face.  I have yet to witness it myself, although the thought of it makes me giggle.  He also does a lot of singing with Sean in the “cooldown” period before bed.

Owen’s birthday is coming up and we’ve been trying to hype up the concept, since he doesn’t really know what a birthday is.  I tell him he is going to be two, and that we will sing Happy Birthday to him and he will have to blow out the candles.  I usually start singing him the song, only to be interrupted by Owen asking, “Cake?”  Yes, son, there will be cake.

Hooray!

Owen is very into cheering these days.  He will raise both hands in the air and triumphantly say, "I did it!" or he will clap and cheer.  When I walk down the stairs in the morning or after changing out of my work clothes, he claps and cheers.  When Sean sings him the spiderman theme song, he claps and cheers.  When we read him his favorite book, Little Owl Lost, he claps and cheers when Little Owl is reunited with his mother.

He’s an enthusiastic fellow.  The other thing he is these days is chatty.  We go on a lot of walks with Owen in the bugaboo (he is pro-walk at the moment), and just in the last week these walks have become filled with non-stop questions.  He points to every car and bird he sees and will query, “Car?” “Truck?” “Bird?” And answering with a simple “yes” will not do; I have to instead say, “Yes, a white car.” “You’re right, that’s a big truck.” “Yes, the bird is looking for worms to eat.” “Yes, that is water; it’s a puddle.” Etc., etc.  He wants a full conversation.

He also likes to test to see if the Don’t Step On The Flowers rule is still in place (it always is).  He will pantomime stepping on the daffodils by raising his foot up high above them and looking at me, and when I say, “Don’t step on the daffodils!” He says something about daffodils, although his version of the word has 10-20 syllables and is something like “daff dum dilly dilly do doobie daff doobie….”

I overheard this conversation the other day between Sean and Owen while they were watching Curious George:

Owen:  [laughing loudly Ho Ho Ho!]

Owen:  What’s that?

Sean:  A KITTY!

Owen:  Yes!

Owen enjoys laughing heartily, and will join in with strangers if they should laugh anywhere near him in a store.  He has a fake jovial laugh he reserves for such hilarity:  Ho Ho Ho!  A laughter drive-by, if you will.

Base Camp, Etc.

One of Owen's favorite things to do these days is crawl up the stairs.  He will do it as often as we let him, and that is pretty often, even though it is rather boring following closely behind him.  It is good exercise for him though, and he is very proud when he reaches the landing, or as I like to call it, base camp.  Here he is tra la la-ing up the stairs with Sean close behind him:

He likes to make snide physical comments on our housekeeping by picking up any stray piece of lint or pet fur that he finds on a step.

Another thing that Owen enjoys doing these days is hiding and playing peekaboo.  To put it mildly, when he hides, Owen is not very hard to find.  Case in point:

His favorite hiding place is to put a pillow in front of his face.

He definitely seems to understand most of what we say to him, even though his language still consists mostly of variations of buh and duh.  He will get frustrated with us when we say "no" to something that he wants to do, and he will often wave his arms in anger.

He's also eating his weight in watermelon weekly, along with all sorts of other fruits:  peaches, kiwis, grapes, etc.  He likes a cheese sandwich too, but isn't so sure about vegetables that aren't in puree form. We need to work on that.

Owen has also given up his morning nap, mostly, which is sort of a pain, since he gets cranky without one.  On the weekends I still will put him in his crib and give it a try, as one never knows if he will sleep or not.  And then when he does sleep, I do a little dance.

LL Cool Owen

Since beginning to crawl in earnest a month ago, Owen very shortly thereafter began to stand while holding onto things.  He now crawls very fast and very loudly (hands and knees slapping the ground with purpose), but seems most proud of the standing.  His feet still appear more decorative than useful at this point—they are so round and solid, and look like two dinner rolls, as Sean puts it.  But I have no doubt that soon he will realize he can take a step or two on them.

We make a ruckus if he gets too near a reclining Plum, so he pretty much will avoid Plum and crawl right by him now.  I’m sure at some point Plum will hit Owen, and I’m hoping that he will not use his claws.  Dorothy is not so sure about Owen’s new mobility, and will often go over to him and try to kiss him mid-crawl.  Posy runs away when she sees Owen coming—she wants nothing to do with the boy.

Other random Owen moments:  Susan has been getting Owen to make faces that show different emotions.  Here is his mad face:

He started playing peekaboo by hiding behind the curtains—and he did it the first time by himself.  We all say “where’s Owen?” and he laughs and laughs, with of course most of his fat little body in plain sight where the curtain ends.

He also does two different kind of “dances” now.  One is a spazzy moving-his-arms dance which he tends to do in his high chair, and the other is a kind of rhythmic sway he does when he hears music.

And finally, when out on a walk Owen loves to touch reachable objects, like trees and leaves and posts.  He’s very gentle about it and seems to really like the different textures.  He will also say “duh” when he sees a dog outside and “buh” when he sees a bird.  He will really follow the birds with his eyes and watch them intently.