Owen's current fave youtube video is 'How It's Made - Doughnuts'. It fascinates him to watch the factory-made doughnuts rolling around on ramps. He echoes the narrator as the movie goes (cooks evenwy thwoughout!) and says, Mmmm!

Owen's imagination is starting to develop. Today he was telling a shredded wheat square to take a drink while holding it up to his sippy cup straw. At another meal, he picked out the smallest grape on his tray and called it the baby grape, then found the biggest and called it the daddy grape. I was exTREMEly relieved, though surprised, that the mommy grape was smaller than the daddy grape.

More imagination evidence; putting together pieces of info from different sources. Today after church he was chatting with me in the kitchen while I made lunch and here's how it went:

Owen: 'Thomas Train likes Bob the Builder'
Amy: 'Oh really? I didn't know that they knew each other' (and incidentally, we don't watch either of those shows; we have a book or two, and maybe the kids at Sunday school were talking about those characters this morning?)
Owen: Bob Builder likes Pilchard. Bob Builder LUFFS Pilchard!
Amy: Oh, yes, Pilchard is Bob the Builder's cat, isn't he? He's a blue cat! What a funny color for a cat.
Owen: Pilchard has mouth (pointing at own mouth). Pilchard eat wiff mouth.
Amy: Mmm, that's right. Cats eat with their mouths!
Owen: Pilchard eat beans in mouth. Pilchard eats edamames. Pilchard like edamames. Mmm, yummy.

I think Owen might be the first two year old to have expressed his notion that Pilchard the cat likes to eat edamame. That one made me giggle. Owen thinks edamame are great fun to peel, but the one or two beans he's tried eating haven't made it past getting a chew or two before the eject button was pressed.

It's been a rainy, cold June, even by New England standards. I don't think we've seen more than 3 or 4 days that have hit 70, and the sun has come out just about as many times. I heard on the radio that the weather is breaking records all the way back to 1903 (?). It is pure bliss as far as a summer pregnancy goes...I am so thankful! On the other hand, having to think of ways to occupy Mr. O during the indoor confinement periods is difficult. Even when we do venture out, the mosquitoes are so bad it's not worth it unless I bathe both of us in Deep Woods Off, which is downright repulsive to me. The other day I forgot the DEET, and we both had about four bites by the time we'd exited the front door landing, no exaggeration.

For memory's sake, and in case I die unexpectedly and Reuel's new wife needs a hand, here's a near-comprehensive list of all of the toddler-intriguing indoor venues we've made habits of visiting during Owen's 2 years (an odd list because until lately we've not traveled more than ~20 minutes from home because of needing to be home for naps):

Perpetual Motion indoor playground ($9.50 a visit!)
Petco
Petsmart
Trader Joe's
Burlington Mall
Nashua Mall
Libraries galore
Friends' houses
Grocery stores
Museum of Science
Target (toy aisle)
Walmart (ditto)
KMart (ditto)
Burlington Coat Factory (ditto)


Yep, that's about it. And I wonder why I sometimes feel a little stir-crazy and have a routine-addicted child. On sunny days, we have a handful of parks that we frequent. I think that baby #2 is going to have to tolerate more naps on the run, or his mother might sacrifice too much sanity.

Owen grows cuter by the day, Reuel agrees. He fancies himself quite the independent and contributory member of the family, and we don't really try to convince him otherwise. Many a tantrum has been averted by transforming a 'now we are going to do this' statement into a 'can Owen help mommy/daddy do this?' statement. He basks in praise for tasks well done and for good listening skills, and if the praise is too little or too slow for his taste, he often says, 'Goojob, Owen! Gweat!' He always tells me exactly what Daddy made for breakfast, and how he contributed to the process. I am surprised that he is still very respectful of boundaries...for the most part...unless he is really tired or has been told no a few too many times in one day. He's fairly good at compromise (not giving in...compromising); as long as he feels like it's a win-win situation, he's willing to cede some things when asked. A few months ago, things still had to be 100% his way. It's always a mental struggle for me to decide how much compromising is healthy for both of us, and how much I should insist on being 100% in charge. I find it interesting how many of my friends don't seem to face these power struggles nearly to the extent I do...but to be fair, some of them do.


Some cute snippets...

Owen is very mommy-affectionate right now. He is not a quiet cuddler like some kids perhaps, but he loves to come over to me, turn my face toward his with his hands and say, 'Hi buddy. How doin'?' or 'Hi punkin'.' Then he plants big smack kisses right on my mouth. Sometimes he'll rub noses or just want to have his face close to mine, it is adorable. Then he'll say, 'Mommy luffs Owen! Owen luffs Mommy!'

He likes to repeat/practice song lyrics in the car and some of the edits are pretty cute. One of the songs on one of his CDs is titled 'Pardon me, please.' He repeats the chorus saying 'Powder me cheese'.

We visited a friend with a wee baby recently and as we were looking at her I idly said, 'Oh look, baby Abigail is drooling!' Now Owen takes every opportunity to say, 'Owen has a dwool!...Dog has a dwool!...Baby has a dwool!' He is fascinated with this new word.

One of his newly discovered ways to get mommy's goat when he wants to act out is to screeech, very loudly and ear-piercingly, over and over. I am learning the wisdom of zero-tolerance policies on some infractions. This particular sin earns a spank after one warning (can I write that without being arrested?). Now I can say things like, 'Owen, no screeching. What is going to happen if you do it again?' and he'll get serious and say, 'Mommy pank. Pull down pants. Ouchie. Noooo!' I think I'm accomplishing something...maybe. Time outs were certainly falling short. I tried ignoring the screeches, and it just didn't work in this case. Eventually it might have, but when he starts doing it in a library or grocery store you have to have some bigger guns to fall back on than ignoring.

Still a whole lot of fascination and eagerness for baby brudder. Every day I hear, 'Mommy tummy bigger, bigger, bigger! Baby come out!' Amen, young one, amen.

Owen loves his stuffed animals, not in a hyper-attached kind of way where he has to have them in the crib, but I think he sees them as his friends. His names for them (adopted from our names for them of course) are horrendously uncreative. His favorites are owl, puppy, doggy, Mister Bear, spot and Monkey George. We really could have done a better job than that. Currently Owen thinks it is the most fun ever to have me help him strap on the Ergo carrier and give his animals rides around the house.

Potty progress details to follow. You've been warned.

Owen knows all about the potty, loves to watch his potty movie, loves to 'help' a grownup in the bathroom whenever he can get in, hates having a dirty diaper, comes and tells me to change his diaper, etc. etc. Sounds like potty training readiness to me. Only problem is that he has absolutely no desire to use the potty, and is generally dead set against it. When Owen sets his mind against something it is not going to change easily! I have shrunk away from forcing the issue. Last time I tried to 'encourage' him, he withheld things for way too long and had a more painful time than usual when he finally let go. I have so many friends who have just waited for their kid and not made a fight out of it, and once they choose to start using the potty, it seems to go very smoothly. The early potty trainers seem to believe that it is extremely important to do it earlier, but I haven't seen the downsides of waiting in my own observations (aside from the landfills and diaper bills)...doesn't mean I'm not missing something, but I just haven't seen it. I'm not talking about waiting til 4...most of my friends have had success by 3-ish.

Well, I dabble with pushing him gently, with no success. So we talk about it and have been taking the slow road. One problem is that Owen is perpetually constipated...unless I feed him cups and cups of vegetables per day (which I couldn't do aside from force-feeding b/c he is not a huge veggie eater), he has some trouble. This morning he told me he needed a diaper and when I went to change him, he wasn't quite done, if you know what I mean. I told him that things were stuck and that sitting on the potty would help him be able to go (no lie!). I decided to stick with my plan even though it wouldn't be popular...stuck him on the potty (required quite a bit of force to overcome his arched back) and he screamed and moaned and fought very hard. I felt like I was traumatizing him, but stuck with it. I knew if we could get the end result he would be so happy, he just doesn't like changes. Well, for this morning, it worked! Got some action in the potty, and when I let him get off I made a BIG deal about what he did and what a big boy he was and how proud I was, etc. etc. I gave him an M&M and told him that we would go to the store to pick out a present because I had promised a present if he ever went on the potty. He was prouder than proud of his little self. His tears instantly dried up and he could not stop talking about his achievement. We went to call Daddy and Owen proudly shared the news. We got a battery operated bubble blower and Owen told the lady in line with us that he pooped on the potty :} I do not suspect that anything will have really changed as a result of this morning's small step, but at least he knows what the goal is, and that he can do it. That's progress!

The later morning was not nearly as fun. We met friends at the park, and while eating lunch on a park bench, I turned my back and my wiggle worm managed to fall over the side of the armrail onto hot blacktop and I heard the most sickening splat sound a mother can hear, followed by the pause and the wail. Normally unruffled by falls, the splat was worse than a normal spill. Owen was beside himself and stayed that way for a good long while, just wanting to cuddle and cry. When I got packed up and carried him to the car he was rather sack-of-potatoes-esque, and did not even want to let me go so that I could drive us home. I tried to check his pupils, but couldn't get them to change much. That, and the fact that he was completely lethargic and falling asleep all the way home (NOT normal), made me turn the car in the Dr.'s office direction. All the way into the building he was limp and clingy, and then as soon as I begin to talk to someone about seeing him (not kosher to walk in...apparently I should have taken him to the ER...the last thing I wanted to do!) what does he do but perk up completely and start talking about the fish tank and being charming and making me look more than a little silly. Well, he checked out just fine, so that's more important than whether I looked anxious or not. I like to try to not be the first time worry wart mom, but I didn't succeed this time around. On the way home, Owen was talking about how he flipped and took a tumble and was telling himself to be careful. Little stinker!

He's now napping and I need one!

Park day!

Owen got to stay up late to join in our church small group meeting for the first time last night. It was Joy's birthday, and the lucky boy was invited to help blow out the candles, a big treat. A bigger treat for Owen was spending time with the Ahearn's perfectly behaved golden retriever Caleb. I don't know if Owen has ever been as deeply happy as he was with that dog last night. It made me feel awfully guilty for not wanting to have a dog right now, in addition to soon-to-be 2 kids. I don't want the work of caring for the dog, but on the other hand, I wonder if Owen would enjoy having a friend so much that Owen's care wouldn't get easier! Well, I still don't want a dog right now ;)

Owen basically followed Caleb around the house like a magnet, giving him bear hugs, petting him, talking to him, patting his paws, stroking his tail, more bear hugs, laying on top of him and just never getting enough. It's interesting that he had absolutely NO fear of a dog quite a bit taller than himself! When we put Owen to bed Caleb came up with us and joined in our routine for a while, which Owen thought was fantastic. Joy has trained that dog so well it's amazing...he is a sweetheart of a dog. Interestingly, Caleb didn't want to leave our house at the end of the evening (not normal for him), so we think he bonded with Owen a little bit too.

Alas, the staying-up-late experiment had the feared results (will we have to keep a strict schedule forever with Owen?). Asleep at 9pm, up at 4:20am screaming bloody murder, then quiet in his crib, but too awake to fall asleep again until about 5:45am. Ugh. Even though I tried to go back to sleep I was awake pretty much the whole time he was. Well, it was a fun evening anyway.

This morning I suggested to Owen that we go to the library. It has been raining all week. Owen's reply: 'No. Mall.' After correcting him to say 'No thank you, Mall please' (if I tried to actually stop him saying no it would do as much good as hitting myself in the face with a 2x4), I decided that the mall probably was a better idea. So off we went. Owen got a big kick out of getting to watch a scuba diver doing maintenance inside the big fish tanks at the Rainforest Cafe and a bigger kick out of the massage chairs at Brookstone. I was enjoying them quite a bit myself until the staff person started lingering around us unpleasantly (what, we're supposed to be interested in actually buying these things?) and informed me that if I am expecting I should really be careful with too intense massages. What a killjoy, I hadn't even thought of that.

After some trips up and down escalators and elevators, and popping into a few stores, I realized that I really needed to get Owen a pair of sneakers, and this might be the perfect chance. I told Owen that we were going to try on a pair of tennis shoes for him just like Daddy's (his first pair of sneakers). Well, who knew this was going to be just the thing to excite Owen...I thought I would have a fight on my hands. Owen vainly tried on shoes and walked around in them looking at his feet and saying, 'Huh! Jus like Daddy!' and 'Like shoes!' and looked with disdain at his old shoes and said, 'Dirty shoes!' After turning down that pair for various reasons we headed to Stride Rite and he was equally cooperative and eager to shop. Wow. The clerk was aghast at his excellent attitude (little does she know...). After we bought a pair and he wore them out of the store, he would walk about 10 steps with his head held high and shoulders back, then crouch down to look at his new shoes and touch them. I was calling them tennis shoes at this point, and Owen's interpretation of this moniker was to call them 'tennis ball shoes'. He would stop and tell me that he was wearing new tennis ball shoes, just like Daddy's. We happened to run into a friend at the mall and during the meeting Owen reached down to touch his shoes and point them out and said, 'tennis ball shoes!' He was awfully cute. He is very eager to show them to Daddy tonight. I told him he could only show them to Daddy if he took a nap, otherwise he wouldn't get to see Daddy tonight. It worked!!! He naps (didn't yesterday).