Week of May 26, 2004

“I want one more story”
“We feed the birds!”
“I want bring Rickety and Thomas AND James. AND James’ tender. And freight car.”
(Owen, you only have two hands, you can’t carry that many)
“You put in pocket, Mummy!”
“I want scrambled eggs. We go have scrambled eggs. And I want to bring Rattlebone Rock. And Monster Under the Shed.”
“We go to Di’s House. I play with Baby Domenic. I have fun with Dominic.”
“I cook hot dogs!”
“I have blue/red/green/yellow/brown M&M” (or flower, or magnet, etc.)
“That’s orange/purple/yellow” (pointing to a flower)
“I want to see Steve and Valerie” (and later) “I want to go home, let’s go!”
(looking for trains upstairs) “Where are Thomas and Rickety? Go get them, Daddy!”)
“I have trouble sleeping” (“how come?” I ask him), “Because I have trouble sleeping”
(Gotta love the circular logic of this age.)
“He bite happy frog. ‘You don’t bite happy frog!’”
“Turtles! There are baby turtles. There’s Mommy turtles They go home. Look for Daddy turtle?”
“I have dragon on my tummy!”
“Wake up Mummy…I want scrambled eggs!....get jacket Mummy, let’s go!”

 

This past weekend we’d hoped to get Owen to the beach. Alas it was cold and grey, so we settled for hanging out on our friends’ deck, with the inchworms. Scott and Owen took a walk to the water hoping to swing in sight of it, but it was cold and there was an art fair near the swings so they were full. Scott managed to distract with ice cream, which was happily shared in spite of the cold. After an unusually warm May, the weekend was a shock.

Owen enjoyed a decadent Saturday. Some donut holes to go with his egg and bagel early in the morning; part of a brownie at the house, chicken and ice cream for lunch at Bertucci’s and ice cream for a snack in the afternoon. And he even had some M&Ms’, part of an early birthday present. It was a day of junk food bliss. Between that and running with the dog and socializing, and having no nap, he was tuckered early and fell blissfully asleep until about 3, when the whole household awoke with a wild thunderstorm. Sasha (that dog) huddled with his people, and Owen cuddled up with us and fell fast asleep.

I was just happy that we had wonderful Chinese mustard with our take out. I hate to think I’m that easily thrilled. Owen’s highlight of the day, aside from his roll at Bertucci’s (“’Tucci’s!”) was spending time on the deck. I think he’s puzzled about why our friends don’t live out there, and why we don’t spend all our time there when we visit.

I must say, I do enjoy having a big bed to cuddle up in for story time. I think Owen enjoys it too. He was good about being put down, we left the Christmas lights lit and I think that makes the room feel cozy. Of course, he has his animals and aquarium and blanket (to look at, not use) so although the portacrib is cramped, it’s a lot like his crib at home. He woke around 3:30, feeling cramped I think, and was good enough to snuggle up with us and sleep to 6:30!

We came home Sunday and thankfully, Owen eventually fell asleep (but why is it at the end of the ride, if at all?). He was looking pretty bored for some time, as we all listened to Piglet’s Big Movie (we switch back to the first song once we get to Song Number 8, again and again and again). Thank goodness Carly Simon is okay with repetition, and the album is as innocuous as children’s music gets. Because Owen was asleep, we were able to take the long way home and swing by the Stadium. It’s a poignant season, graduation, and I feel driven to drive by the stadium when everyone is seated, to see it filled to capacity. They lucked out, the threatening rain didn’t materialize and the afternoon turned sunny and hot.

We went to the River Park ( Mill River) and a stroller ride, and in various ways did Owen friendly things. He was sweet with Steve and Valerie and I think we felt guilty for cooping him up in the car. By the end of the day, we were all pooped, unexpectedly so. Our bedtime quickly followed Owen. Considering he’s spending 30-60 minutes jabbering now when we put him down, I think I fell asleep before he did. Scott was beat, but as often happens, was unable to sleep.

Owen’s appetite has been off, but he still loves eggs. The one time we went out for breakfast, it was in answer to his plea “scrambled eggs!” I guess his eating weaves in and out, because in spite of his ravenous days (especially on Thursday), his tummy is still flat and his height just about the same. Where is it going, to his feet alone?

Do boys work like puppies? Will he be of average height (like Scott and I) or tall, like my father and brothers? And who the heck does he look like, so far, we’re not sure we see either of us in him much. His blue eyes aren’t mine, more like my Dad or perhaps my grandmother. His hair is blond like mine was, once, but straight likes Scott’s hair. My lips? The jury is out. My ears? Scott’s nose? Our long torsos and stubby limbs? My wide feet.

I know this is just the beginning, as we grow up together. Wondering what aspects of one another we have, looking for evidence of ingrown personality or nurtured quirks. Owen is a bit shy, but most toddlers are at this age. And he’s fine once he gets his bearings. He’s stubborn, but in a deceptively mild-mannered way. His wheels are constantly turning, but that too is typical of toddlers. They’re soul focus is trying to figure out the world, and get things to turn their way. Fortunately he’s anxious for our goodwill and love and support, so in spite of himself, he’s usually trying hard to do the right things. He pushes us most when he’s tired and hungry. Can’t blame him, I’m at my worst then too.

 

back | next

Back to Owen's index