Week of June 2, 2004

“My throat hurts”
(after a popsicle and some time goes by, “how are you feeling?”)
“Not too bad!”

“I have a doughnut!”
“I have fun with Domenic”
“I want scrambled eggs”
“I want yogurt pretzels”
“Cookie came from grocery store”
“You be nice, Grumpy frog.”
“Grumpy frog kicks the little frogs. Grumpy frog bites little frog”
“I’ll be right back!”
“You took my water!”
“Good night. I love you. Sweet dreams”

“Ew. I don’t like snakes”
(I showed Owen the rats underneath)
“Look rats, there’s a turtle. Rats, there’s a snake.”

“Glazed donut!”
“All by myself”
“I have lollipop”
“You in time out, Daddy. You can’t come in.”
“I’ll be right back”

(Are you okay Owen?)
“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“My hand hurts, I need a band aid”
“I need your help”

“Noah, he’s in time out…..you not kick animals. You not feed animals”

whispering our lines “Where are you baby chick?” or “Sshhh, baby chick is sleeping.” or “I miss you baby chick!” or “baby chick is in his nest.” – or he’ll run behind a door and start tweeting. If we say “Where is baby chick” there will be endless giggles from the next room. It’s fortunately we have some gummy worms/insects tucked away, because after all, baby chicks like bugs.

hearing one of our cats spit up: “uh oh, spit up!” and then running over “we need paper towel” – after I get the spit up, Owen likes to help clean up the (now clean) area too. “I help clean spit up.”

 

This weekend was full of family visiting. Owen was overdue with some one on one time with my Mom, and a three day weekend gives us time for visits and also some time to do the mundane chores that make up life. Saturday’s visit included strawberry shortcake with whipped cream, and a stroller ride, so Owen was content. Sunday’s visit was quiet and so Scott’s parents and niece got to see Owen a bit more relaxed and social than other times. I think Owen missed hanging out with his cousins (13 and 10) but otherwise had a good visit. We spent a lot of time running around the house, and once again ate something for lunch. I’m psyched he’s broken his trend of never eating at someone else’s house. Sunday brought more strawberry shortcake, and even better, frozen chocolate chip cookies.

Monday we had to ourselves. Our chores were modest so we did our usual trek to the fountain holding coffee and chai. As we were hanging out, we noticed some firetrucks quietly passing by, and we realized they were gathering for the Memorial day parade. We checked out a small horde of firefighters in their uniforms, and shuffled over to Barts to wait. There was much frolicking on the Unitarian church’s ramp, with swinging and laughing too.

At home after grocery shopping, Owen asked for a chocolate cookie, and I told him we didn’t have any, not realizing he’s spotted the box of Le Petit Ecoliers that we got at the grocery store. Doubting my denial, he instantly went over and started rummaging through the grocery bags I was unpacking to find them. Busted, I offered him one, which he proudly took over to the coffee table and hoarded for the day, a tiny nibble at a time. “The cookie came from grocery store”

 

 

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