Owen cracks us up on a daily basis. Here are just a few of the funny things said by a 2 year old:
Grin:
One morning when getting Owen dressed for school he stretched really big. I said "that was a big stretch, huh"! He responded "yeah, I am trying to get it all out!". HA!
Giggle:
One day I asked Owen if he wanted to be a big brother. He said "No!". A few minutes went by and he came back over to me and said "Mommy-I said NO!". OK, Owen, point taken. You're in for a big surprise come August though...HeeHeeHee...
Belly Laugh:
Owen was on his hands and knees playing trains in the floor one afternoon. Daddy came by and asked if he would take off Owen's shoes. Owen said yes, so daddy pulls his shoes off his feet, which pulled his legs out from under him (slightly-he didn't face plant to the ground or anything-that's only funny when it's an adult). As daddy pulled his legs Owen exclaimed "Daddy!!! Stop! You're falling me down!!" Yeah, I about fell over with that one!
I love that funny kid.
Monday, February 14, 2011
My Dearest Boy...
Owen,
I planned to write you a letter when you were born, and every year on your birthday, but time slipped away from me somewhere in between falling in love with you by the second, and watching you grow into a wonderful little boy. That first year went by so fast, it seems like a blur of all my favorite days. My favorite moments were those that belong just to us. Those middle of the night conversations when I did most of the talking, and you slept sweetly on my shoulder giving me that sleeping baby grin from time to time. When I would sing to you so quietly that only your heart could hear me. Pure joy and sweetness.
Next thing I knew, you were turning ONE! At 1 you learned to walk and communicate with words and use more and more baby signs. Your personality took shape, and you made us laugh a lot.
By TWO you were showing us how smart you are, how cautious and observant you are, and learning more words by the day. (Your vocabulary exploded at 2.5, now there's no stopping you!)
And now, my sweet boy, you are turning THREE! I really can't believe it. Looking at you now, all the baby-ness is gone. You talk like a big boy-very advanced for 3! You're getting taller, and still oh so skinny ;-) You love to play cars and trains, and ball, and you say your best friend is "mommy". At home you are rowdy and silly and rough. Out in the world, you are shy, reserved, and cautious. You like to sit back and take it all in. You don't like playing at the playground because "there are too many kids". You love to run. Everywhere. All the time. I see soccer or track in your future! You are very smart, pay close attention when others are talking, and I can see you thinking and processing everything you see and hear. You question "why did you say that?" and "what are we going to do?" all the time.
You are a natural rule follower and don't like to get in trouble. You have a kind and soft spirit. You love to sing songs with me at night as we get ready for bed. Your favorites are "Home" by Bonnie Raitt, "You Got It" but Roy Orbison, and "I Will" by The Beatles. You love the movies Cars and Toy Story, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and Dr. Seuss' Green Eggs and Ham. You can't wait for your birthday party at "Chuckin Cheese" and all you want is an orange "Lightming The Queen" cake.
My sweet Owen, as you turn 3, I look forward to all the fun and exciting new things this next year will bring. You just started gymnastics, and will begin swim lesson soon. You will be a big brother in August, and what a GREAT big brother you will be to your new baby brother or sister. There are so many wonderful things ahead of you (and us) in this coming year, and I look forward to each new day. I love you more than there are words to say. I love you all the way to the sky...and back down. Thank you for picking me to be your mommy.
I love you kid.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Say What, Part II...
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!
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!
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!
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