Week of March 19, 2003
This week is overshadowed by the war in Iraq. Perhaps I will just ignore it here since this is a journal chronicling life, and war is the ending of life. It is pain and violence and misery and death; it is families ended or split and changed for ever. It's a sad, sad time for us all.
Scott and I have been reflecting how much more confident we feel these days with Owen. Is it because he is feeling better, at last? Or is it that he's in a particularly wonderful stage, one that embraces learning and exploring and absorbing and interacting, with as much energy and enthusiasm as he can find in himself? Owen is so engaging, and one can see how rapidly he's digesting every piece of information he can get.
"Stat?!?" is his most used phrase. "What's that?"
He'll point and look and ask. We have a small book filled with 100 animals and the ones he stares at most intently are the ones he doesn't know. He was triumphant when he identified "Bat!" - I have several stuffed or plastic bats in the living room so it's likely his word choice is a result of my brainwashing. Still, I'm very proud as he picked out that picture before all the others. When we get to the rabbits, he'll run in to his crib and tug on his large stuffed rabbit until one of us helps him get it through the slats. Then he'll run out to the living room, clutching it tightly. He likes his animals only when he's in his crib, or sick, so we find this particularly sweet.
Owen has also been exploring and pushing his limits. He was spending a day or two trying to dart into the road, which drew lots of negative attention from Scott and I - he seems to have abandoned this maneuver for the moment, but it's made us very edgy. I know it will keep cropping up as he pushes to see what he can and cannot do with us, and as he checks to see if the rules persist over time. He's also taken to whacking the lamp shade in his train area, or worse, trying to poke at the lit light bulb. He is so clearly testing us, his head turning to us with each action, waiting for our response. In the end, I've opted to move the lamp as the least of all evils, though I know this doesn't address the conflict. We tried distraction, and often if he was in a good mood, a stern "Owen…" would stop him in his tracks. But once he started to poke the lightbulb, I became tired of the exchange. It would be easy for him to tip the lamp over in his playing, so why continue the struggle?
I love the column lamp, so I'm feeling a bit sad at its loss, but I know we are going to continually be removing our stuff (and putting it higher) and re-evaluating what we have and what we are keeping, to make room for Owen. He's more important to me than anything I have, and I want him to be safe and minimize conflict. We're rapidly running out of room that's out of his reach however, and I wonder if he'll be sleeping in his crib until he's 8, to keep both him and our stuff safe!
Owen seems to be getting a better handle on himself and his environment, so perhaps we're at ease because he seems more at ease. The communication is easier - we know his likes and preferences, and he's better at communicating with us. We ask him if he wants more milk, and he'll happily hand us his bottle for a refill. Sometimes he hands it to us without even looking up, he's so confident in the transaction. He'll get his shoes for us, or a toy, or a book, or even put something away. He can get things for himself, quite often, and is content to play independently in a way I envy even now. (He must get that from Scott!) It's strange to see our baby be so autonomous at times.
He lifts his feet for socks, and helps shrug off his jacket when we get home. Although we aren't psyched he do this often, he can easily take off his own diaper. He embraces clothes sometimes, as he does his ladybug boots, and expresses a strong preference to keep them on his feet. I bet when it's hot, he'll be getting out of his clothes every chance he gets.
He knows where his bellybutton is, and ours too! He can point to his penis when we name it correctly, and no longer confuses it with his belly button. He's curious about his tongue and his teeth, and lifts up food to ask us what it is.
- Owen watching Sagwa and saying "Caterpillar" - I guess imitating will remain much easier than anything else. I do love watching him try out words
- Given the complicated nature of our remote controls, he'll just hand us the remote now when he wants us to turn on something good. Or he'll run over and turn on the TV manually, and look up expectantly. This is especially entertaining when we're in "no TV" mode, and he's listening to music he deems unworthy. Or he's simply bored with the music and with us! He's so bummed when we won't budge. I know he thinks we're dim in our understanding of him.
- Variety makes Owen very happy. We rotate foods because he loses interest with repetition. The same with his bedtime books.
- He's been spending more time pulling the plastic containers in the kitchen on to the ground. He has no patience for putting them back now, the bloom is off that rose. He's also more inclined to drop his refrigerator magnets on the ground, rather than just line them up and sort them on the fridge.
- He still loves his trains. He's been playing with them on the floor a bit more, and still likes to line up various things in train patterns. He's added "Choo-choo" to his repertoire. At the end of a meal, he's been spotted running kidney beans around the edge of his plate, going "choo-choo."
- He eats amazingly well, actually. He's decided that the kidney beans in our Jambalaya are very tasty and he's been picking them out to eat first. He's also been enamored with grape tomatoes, and we've been stopping by the store to re-stock. They make a tasty breakfast snack.
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