Owen's vocabulary exploded a few months ago and he talks ALL. THE. TIME. For the most part he says his words correctly, but there are a few that still have that sweetness of little kid mispronunciation:
Hane-ga-burger = hamburger
Frog=fog (mommy, we're driving in the frog!...OMG-my nightmare!)
Lightming The Queen=Lighting McQueen (from Cars movie)
Kah-lola bar=granola bar
These are just a few of my favs. My littlest boy will be 3 years old very soon. Where has the time gone? Not so long ago he was just a baby...now he is a big boy using big boy words in complete sentences! I love listening to him sing to himself when he is "napping", read his books out loud when he doesn't know we are watching, and move more into imagination play. He pretty much just entertains us 24/7. Yep, I love this little guy oh so much and am so thankful that I get to be his mommy.
I love you kid!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
My Froap...
Owen has been battling several rounds of strep the past few months. Scarlet Fever back in May...some other rashy form in the fall...then 2 rounds of strep throat back to back in November. So after this last bout, I wanted to take him in to the doctor to get a clear strep test before heading out of town for the holidays. The day of the doctor appointment I told Owen that either mommy or daddy would pick him up from school to go to the doctor. I explained that the doctor was going to look at his throat to make sure it was all better. He was fine with it (in fact, he seems to really enjoy going to the doctor!). Hubby picked him up and took him in for his check-up. All went well, and when they got home Owen announced that the doctor "looked at my froap!" and that he was a good boy and got a sticker and a sucker. Yeah, I now ask him daily what the doctor looked at cause "froap" is just funny!
And BTW...as a side-note...Owen is for the first time EVER, closing in on the 25th percentile for weight!!! He has always been in the 5th, so almost 25% is big news!! I think it's because he has gotten taller, not because he has put any meat on his skinny bones, but we'll take it!
I LOVE that kid!!!!
And BTW...as a side-note...Owen is for the first time EVER, closing in on the 25th percentile for weight!!! He has always been in the 5th, so almost 25% is big news!! I think it's because he has gotten taller, not because he has put any meat on his skinny bones, but we'll take it!
I LOVE that kid!!!!
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
An Unspoken Conversation
The following is a true story, but to protect the not-so innocent, names will not be used. You know who you are.
We grew up together, but we are very different, you and I. And that's OK. We were friends as kids, but as we grew-up we grew apart. As young adults we went on our own separate paths, and for the next 7 years there was very little communication. In fact for many of those years there was not a single word exchanged. I never really understood why, but nonetheless, I grew to like it that way. I wanted you to stay gone. Things were easier that way. There was less drama to forge through. Yeah, I liked you being gone. That's awful to say out loud: It's awful to type: It's awful to read. It's the awful truth.
But then, you came back. Back into our lives. And little by little, it was nice. It was healing. It was friendly. It was fun. Eventually it was like we were family. It was real. It was nice for a long time. And then it wasn't. Because then, out of the blue, with no explanation, you were gone again. It's now been almost 2 years without a word. Not. One. Word. You wouldn't even acknowledge me (or him) last time we saw you. Not even eye contact, though we were sitting at the same table and involved in the same conversation. You ignored him when he said goodbye to you directly. You didn't speak. He was 20 months old.
I go back to: you and I are different. But that's OK. We will never be the best of friends. We will never have to talk to each other daily, or share all of our inner-most secrets. But that's OK. Correction: that's OK with me. The hard part about any relationship is that you accept the good and the bad in people you care about. That's just how life works. You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have: The Facts Of Life. It really is true. But you, you are all or nothing. And I guess since it's not exactly what/how you want, it's nothing.
Years ago following the fun weekend we had at your college graduation, you wrote me a letter telling me how sorry you were for missing my college graduation a few years before. I was the first person EVER in my family to graduate college, and you missed it. You told me you were sorry for that, and that you never thought about how much that must of hurt me, and that you were sorry for that as well. I believed you. So now let me tell you what else you have missed in the past two years. I think someday, you will be sorry for missing these things as well:
~He turned 1
~He learned to walk and talk
~I got rid of the Jetta
~He lost his job
~He turned 2
~She lost her job
~After 16 months of looking, he found the perfect job and embarked on a new career...one that the old you would have been proud of and could have helped him with
~She started her own business. Again, the old you would have been so proud of her too
~He learned to peddle his trike all by himself
~Kitty had to be put down and it devastated them
And now...he's about to turn 3.
You two would have been buddies. He would have loved you like no other. You could have taught him so much. He would have thought you were so fun and cool. He would have filled your heart with love and joy and laughter. But he will never get to know you. He is disposable to you. You proved it. He was 11-months-old when you walked away in silence. He did nothing. You will not get the chance to break his heart or treat him like nothing. You will not get another chance to break my heart, or treat me like nothing. I will not allow you close to him knowing that at any time, you can walk away with no explaination and leave him wondering what he did. You do not get to know him. And that's a shame for you.
I am so very sad and angry with you. Sometime more sad than angry, sometimes more angry than sad. Sometimes both at the same time, as I am right now. Mostly, I am disappointed in the person you are today. For my part, if I could go back and undo whatever I did to set this in motion, I would. But in your silence, you have left me not knowing if I even did anything at all. So all I can say is that if I had a part in your pain, I am sorry. There are two sides to every story, and I wish you had cared enough, respected me enough, or at least been mature enough to have that conversation. I think that says more about you than it does about me. I have spent the past 2 years making a concerted effort to not do or say anything that you could twist around against me. I own my part of the relationship ups and downs, but for the record, I put the past 2 years squarely on your shoulders.
So this is it, this is my closure. We never said goodbye, so for what it's worth, two years later, this is the best I am going to get. Sometimes things aren't right...don't make sense...aren't fair. Sometimes you don't get to have the kind of closure you would like. Sometimes you have to create it for yourself...move through the experience and on to your new life. Now is my time.
We will never again be friends. We will never again be family. That is a choice I made: you don't get a vote. There is no trust there, and I will not allow you to hurt him the way you have hurt the rest of us. You prove daily in your absence and distant actions what we all mean to you. I don't forgive you for what you have done. I will someday, but even then, I will choose to not know you. My heart can't take it. I don't fear loosing anything by writing this, as we have all already lost. What's done is done and it can't be taken back. It really is too bad.
I wish you happiness in life. I wish you lessons you haven't learned, knowledge you haven't gained, and love you haven't found. I wish you peace.
But it didn't have to be this way.
We grew up together, but we are very different, you and I. And that's OK. We were friends as kids, but as we grew-up we grew apart. As young adults we went on our own separate paths, and for the next 7 years there was very little communication. In fact for many of those years there was not a single word exchanged. I never really understood why, but nonetheless, I grew to like it that way. I wanted you to stay gone. Things were easier that way. There was less drama to forge through. Yeah, I liked you being gone. That's awful to say out loud: It's awful to type: It's awful to read. It's the awful truth.
But then, you came back. Back into our lives. And little by little, it was nice. It was healing. It was friendly. It was fun. Eventually it was like we were family. It was real. It was nice for a long time. And then it wasn't. Because then, out of the blue, with no explanation, you were gone again. It's now been almost 2 years without a word. Not. One. Word. You wouldn't even acknowledge me (or him) last time we saw you. Not even eye contact, though we were sitting at the same table and involved in the same conversation. You ignored him when he said goodbye to you directly. You didn't speak. He was 20 months old.
I go back to: you and I are different. But that's OK. We will never be the best of friends. We will never have to talk to each other daily, or share all of our inner-most secrets. But that's OK. Correction: that's OK with me. The hard part about any relationship is that you accept the good and the bad in people you care about. That's just how life works. You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have: The Facts Of Life. It really is true. But you, you are all or nothing. And I guess since it's not exactly what/how you want, it's nothing.
Years ago following the fun weekend we had at your college graduation, you wrote me a letter telling me how sorry you were for missing my college graduation a few years before. I was the first person EVER in my family to graduate college, and you missed it. You told me you were sorry for that, and that you never thought about how much that must of hurt me, and that you were sorry for that as well. I believed you. So now let me tell you what else you have missed in the past two years. I think someday, you will be sorry for missing these things as well:
~He turned 1
~He learned to walk and talk
~I got rid of the Jetta
~He lost his job
~He turned 2
~She lost her job
~After 16 months of looking, he found the perfect job and embarked on a new career...one that the old you would have been proud of and could have helped him with
~She started her own business. Again, the old you would have been so proud of her too
~He learned to peddle his trike all by himself
~Kitty had to be put down and it devastated them
And now...he's about to turn 3.
You two would have been buddies. He would have loved you like no other. You could have taught him so much. He would have thought you were so fun and cool. He would have filled your heart with love and joy and laughter. But he will never get to know you. He is disposable to you. You proved it. He was 11-months-old when you walked away in silence. He did nothing. You will not get the chance to break his heart or treat him like nothing. You will not get another chance to break my heart, or treat me like nothing. I will not allow you close to him knowing that at any time, you can walk away with no explaination and leave him wondering what he did. You do not get to know him. And that's a shame for you.
I am so very sad and angry with you. Sometime more sad than angry, sometimes more angry than sad. Sometimes both at the same time, as I am right now. Mostly, I am disappointed in the person you are today. For my part, if I could go back and undo whatever I did to set this in motion, I would. But in your silence, you have left me not knowing if I even did anything at all. So all I can say is that if I had a part in your pain, I am sorry. There are two sides to every story, and I wish you had cared enough, respected me enough, or at least been mature enough to have that conversation. I think that says more about you than it does about me. I have spent the past 2 years making a concerted effort to not do or say anything that you could twist around against me. I own my part of the relationship ups and downs, but for the record, I put the past 2 years squarely on your shoulders.
So this is it, this is my closure. We never said goodbye, so for what it's worth, two years later, this is the best I am going to get. Sometimes things aren't right...don't make sense...aren't fair. Sometimes you don't get to have the kind of closure you would like. Sometimes you have to create it for yourself...move through the experience and on to your new life. Now is my time.
We will never again be friends. We will never again be family. That is a choice I made: you don't get a vote. There is no trust there, and I will not allow you to hurt him the way you have hurt the rest of us. You prove daily in your absence and distant actions what we all mean to you. I don't forgive you for what you have done. I will someday, but even then, I will choose to not know you. My heart can't take it. I don't fear loosing anything by writing this, as we have all already lost. What's done is done and it can't be taken back. It really is too bad.
I wish you happiness in life. I wish you lessons you haven't learned, knowledge you haven't gained, and love you haven't found. I wish you peace.
But it didn't have to be this way.
How Very Alarming!!
With all this beautiful weather we are having, I love keeping the windows open as much as possible. The other evening they were all wide open while I got Owen fed, bathed, teeth brushed, rocked, and put to bed. Once he was in bed, I returned to the living room and realized how dark it was outside. Being that it was just the little guy and myself at home for the evening, I shut the windows and set the house alarm. I then went on with doing other stuff as you do once the kids are in bed...dishes, folding laundry, etc. About an hour later I opened the back door to set the trash out and there it was...the house alarm in full intruder mode. I run and disarm it, then run to Owen's room. This won't be good, I thought to myself. I opened his door and he is half sitting up, with a look of shear terror on his face. Poor kid was too scared, and too confused to even scream. I scoop him up and tell him it's OK, mommy just set off the house alarm. He really was better than I thought he'd be given he had just been woken up by an ear piercing siren. I calmed him down, one more round of rocks and songs, and put him back to bed.
The next morning we get up and go in to the living room. "No more farm, mommy" he says. Hmmm...no more farm?? I ask him what farm? "No farm mommy!!" He is adamant. "I don't know farm, Owen. Can you show me"? "No show you mommy! No show you farm...it says WOOWOOWOOWOO real loud in my bed!!" Oh-no ALARM! Gotchya. So we spent the next hour talking about the alarm, and no alarm when he is sleeping, and all things alarm related. And of course I made him say WOOWOOWOO about 20 more times...
Sorry Owen. But I sure do love you kid!
The next morning we get up and go in to the living room. "No more farm, mommy" he says. Hmmm...no more farm?? I ask him what farm? "No farm mommy!!" He is adamant. "I don't know farm, Owen. Can you show me"? "No show you mommy! No show you farm...it says WOOWOOWOOWOO real loud in my bed!!" Oh-no ALARM! Gotchya. So we spent the next hour talking about the alarm, and no alarm when he is sleeping, and all things alarm related. And of course I made him say WOOWOOWOO about 20 more times...
Sorry Owen. But I sure do love you kid!
Mommy Mishap #17648536839
Today while riding in the car I told Owen to look at the clouds. "They look really neat, huh?" Owen said "no neat, mommy". Realizing he doesn't know what "neat" means, I say "they are cool"...he says "cool"...they are "pretty"...he says "pretty"...you get the picture. Then, my mommy blunder of the day. I say "they look funky"...he repeats, only his 2yo version of "funky" leaves out a very important letter. A letter that changes the entire meaning of the word. Yep, that's the one. I just taught my kid a very non-kid-friendly word. Hey Owen, let's just say cool, okay...
I love that kid.
I love that kid.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Bye Bye Batchers...Not So Fast...
So "Bodshurs" has now morphed into "Batchers", but the other day Owen said the unthinkable...Diapers. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! "Owen, you can say Batchers...it's ok". And so "batchers" it is. Was that wrong of me? To correct his correct speech back to his sweet incorrectness? So I ask...Please God, just let him stay little for a little while longer!
I love that growing-up-too-fast kid!
I love that growing-up-too-fast kid!
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Bananas Are Our Friends
The other night while rocking Owen before bed and talking about our day he said "The tree scared me cause I bonked, but bananas are our friends".
I have no response to that. Night Night Owie.
I love that kid.
I have no response to that. Night Night Owie.
I love that kid.
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