Week of October 9, 2002
When we talk to Owen, he's much more present and aware of what we're saying. Mind you, he has the selective listening all of us have at times, when people are saying things we don't want to hear. But often, I can speak to him and he responds appropriately. I tell him it's time to go outside in the morning, and he runs over to the front door and starts fiddling with the doorknob. I talk about his Ball, or his Pig, or his Shoes, and he's right there, grabbing them and waving them in his hand. This accomplishment is thrilling me and I can't get over it. All of a sudden, I can picture him learning calculus and taking courses that challenged me, and I can't believe this creature could be something Scott and I created from scratch. It wasn't long ago that lifting his head, rolling over and crawling where distant goals. Now we have a creature who has a mind, and a soul, and a will of his own.
Let's get to that will. Scott has been commenting on Owen's stubborn streak, looking sideways at me since he feels this quality might come from me. I think toddlers are by nature stubborn. They have to be, people are constantly telling them "No" or "Dangerous" or "Dirty" or suddenly lifting them away from desired objects and desired directions. It's not fun being thwarted at every turn, and safety as a concept just doesn't have the importance for toddlers that it does for their anxious parents. Road? Who cares, let me over there! And if you can get a good reaction out of a parent, well that just makes it extra fun. Without a stubborn streak, how would they ever accomplish any of their goals? Without tenacity, how could they circumvent their parents to gleefully pull something out of the garbage and run around with it in their hands, laughing excitedly?
I know he's exploring and testing and pushing as hard as he can, and that it will just get worse as he figures out more things that we don't want him to do. When I look at this testing as part of his job description, it's easier to find it endearing rather than stressful. But then we'll have an experience that leads to tears or lying on the ground, and I can see it will be hard getting through these periods being as warm and supportive and low-key as we want to be, and not letting ourselves feel really stressed out each time. It's awful hearing him wail, and for the moment, it's hard to tell the crocodile tears from the real ones. I suspect they all feel real to Owen.
We've been having a good time getting him to laugh with endless games of "Gonna get you!" and "Oh no, you're going to get me!" - with lots of chasing and catching and tickling and laughing and hugging. Owen's not terribly into cuddling unless he feels unwell or sleepy, so we love excuses to give him hugs and romp with him on the floor. He likes to climb over obstacles, and parents work as well as anything. Scott has glasses which Owen loves to pull off and put on my face. The novelty of that is always good for a laugh.
Owen's become very shy around strangers, and has a stone face he uses in public. At home his face is full of smiles and laughter, so much so it seems like his natural state. He's always smiling and showing his teeth, so we're disconcerted to see the serious little baby we have on our walks and at Rao's. What happened to the joyful smiles he would bestow happily on all? Regulars at Rao's will try to engage him, and he'll have eyes for nothing but his breakfast. Once they leave, he'll track them intently, but only when they're no longer interacting with him. Dogs and small children elicit rapt attention, and dogs still provoke that thrill smile. "Da! Da!" But someone will come over, remembering the smiley baby we once had, and find a quiet toddler, studiously focusing on anything but them.
Owen's speech is still about the same, but his understanding has increased so much, that I find myself unworried. I was a late speaker as well, and he's not yet even late. From one of the kids at daycare, he's picked up the habit of saying "Ow!" as if in pain. Not that he ever uses it when he actually falls and hurts himself. Instead, he'll pretend fall or pretend bump into something and say "Ow!" or throw a beloved object and say "Ow!" Although he doesn't really have the timing right yet, because often the "Ow!" will precede the fall or the bump. And he's usually smiling when he says it. He in turn has taught another one of the children at daycare to run over to Diane and clutch her leg whenever a parent comes in. Oh well!
He seems to come close to saying "Up" and "All Done" although it's not consistent enough to feel it's part of his repertoire. He says something which sounds a lot like "Yeah" and that he may actually understand, because he'll offer it appropriately in response to a question. He has a hand gesture that seems to mean "more food" and he's a pro at gesturing and pointing in ways that make his needs much more clear. If he wants water or milk or something from the kitchen, we know it. But when we say words, he gets it much of the time. When I ask him if he wants water, he'll turn to my backpack and start reaching, knowing it's tucked inside.
All in all, it's been a great week. Good health, good spirits, good all around. I guess all I could ask for is a warm fall, so we can prolong out morning walks for as long as possible.
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