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).

Saturday morning-
I got Owen out of bed so Reuel could have a sleep-in, and we went to Dunkin Donuts for breakfast. Owen excitedly narrated everything he observed while we shared a sausage egg and cheese croissant--cars pulling in and out, pointing out men with beards or big boots (beards are really fascinating right now), etc. At one point I said, 'Owen, I see a brown car that just pulled up. Can you see it?' and Owen replied as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a 2 year old to say, 'Gray, actually.'

Little man now has taken to tagging the ends of many statements with his name. For instance-
When checking out something new, he often says, 'What's this, Owen?'
After falling down, 'Take a tumble, Owen!'
Upon leaving church today, 'Go park now, Owen?'

Speaking of church, Owen adjusted to the 2-3yr nursery almost seamlessly. That was a shocker. Last week (his first week in the new room) I stayed with him, since we arrived really late (the city was completely blocked off to traffic for some big event). He was awful. He didn't share, he had no idea what it meant to sit still for a story or song (the previous nursery is just free playing), and he was the tyrant we often worry over. This week, I begged them to page me if he was too much trouble to keep up with, and of course he was a perfect gentleman, sat down right away for the story, and made me look like a worry wart. I think he just does better when I'm not around now...fine with me!

I don't think I've ever recorded that eating enjoyable foods is almost always accompanied by loud humming. Today Owen got the mother of all treats...Cheetos...in the car on the way home for a nap. There was a distinctive drone accompanying the crunching for the 5 mile trip home it took him to finish them.

Household tasks are becoming increasingly difficult. Owen will NOT submit to taking turns doing things like vacuuming, drilling, hammering or sweeping. I have to full-out arm wrestle him for control of any tool. It sounds cute, but it can be frustrating. OWEN DO IT!!!! Whine, whine, whine! Sometimes I really do need to do something! It's interesting, because if there is a reason why he can't do something involving danger, he is very respectful of the rules. He knows there are 'mommy and daddy jobs' and won't fight over those. But when it's something he knows he's been allowed to do before, he does not go down without a fight. Today I actually was able to vacuum upstairs because he was willing to vacuum with the dustbuster while I used the big one. For a while.

In the crib reciting/singing the words to Twinkle, Twinkle, with hand motions, and without many mistakes! I didn't know he could do that.

Today: rainy day, but not a bad one. Owen was quite self-entertaining for a change. I did not have to bribe him to go to the grocery store, and he had a good time there! Of course, part of the good time was picking up miscellaneous items at his eye level and putting them in the basket. I kept the ones that could be useful and returned the jarred gravy, precooked bacon, generic fruit loops, and sad-looking watermelon.

Owen helped me make soup tonight. He got things out of the fridge for me, pushed chopped veggies off the cutting board into the pot, poured the stock into the pot, stirred, and poured in the noodles. All by himself! If there is a theme running through our day-to-day life right now it is...OWEN DO IT!!! Yikes, we spend a lot of time getting upset when Owen realizes in hindsight that something has just been done that he would have liked to do without help. I don't mind stepping back and letting him try to do things when he asks for the chance, but it does get exasperating when he doesn't think to want to do it until after it's done, and then expects me to rewind life, and do things like put the shoes and socks back on so he can take them off, or let him go all the way back down to the beginning of the stairs and start over because I got impatient and lifted him up the last one. Sometimes I put my foot down, sometimes I don't. The inconsistency probably doesn't help ;)

He such a cutie sweetheart little love bug. We had a fun day and I got so many kisses, and so did baby brother. Owen and I have a favorite name for the baby but Reuel doesn't like it, and doesn't seem like he will be swayed. I don't suppose it's a very nice thing for me to teach Owen that name, but I like it so much it's hard not to use it now and then ;) Reuel had better hurry up and help think of one we both like, or my choice might just stick.

I think we have distinctly moved past babyhood, perhaps almost past toddlerhood, and into little boyhood. Owen is really changing fast these days. He is getting oh so very smart, and mischievous along with it. He is starting to speak in more complete sentences, even though the pronoun usage and order of the words is sometimes creative...phrases like, 'Help it Daddy shoes on Owen! [Daddy help me put my shoes on!]' and 'Pick you up! [Pick me up!]' and Bug bite you! [A bug bit me!]. He recites all sorts of parental phrases to himself, particularly if he's in his crib alone and needs to comfort himself when something disagreeable has happened (the time before he falls asleep is full of all sorts of traumas like needing a tissue, wanting a new diaper, wanting a stuffed animal that's been chucked out of the crib, asking for a band-aid, scratching mosquito bites, etc.). After fussing for a while and not getting the desired arrival of Mommy (Daddy for some reason is still not as satisfying at these times), he'll finally lay down and say things like, 'I know, I know. Oh buddy, oh buddy. Bug bit you! Okay. I know. Quiet. Go sleep, uh-huh, I know.' I feel cruel not answering the bug bite call, but I have tried to help him out and I end up staying in his room forever and it doesn't help, and eventually he just has to decide/figure out to stop scratching. I really wish I could figure out how he's getting them...he seems to get them overnight, but I haven't found a mosquito in his room, and his windows are shut. Most frustrating.

One of the new behaviors that seems really grown-up and has totally surprised me--somehow I never saw this type of thing coming, since it is so different from my temperament (overall)--is dawdling. I can be lazy and procrastinate with the best of them, but when it's time to do something, it's time to do it. Once I get started on something, I don't get very distracted and I generally finish it up. In his 2 year old way, Owen is quite opposite! Within the last month or so, we've moved on to Owen's obedience and promptness in participating with the task at hand being very proportional to whether he feels like listening or giving me any attention at all. When he was catching onto talking and communicating and I would say, 'Owen, can you find your shoes?' it was oh so exciting to go and track them down and bring them to me. Now, the same request does not register as being heard, despite repetitions, incentives, rational pleas, even mild threats. He couldn't be bothered. And this continues all day about everything. Unless he finds it exciting or new or fun, in which case there is no stopping him, he is a super-speed train headed for the destination. But going up the stairs, walking from the car to the store, getting dressed, etc. etc. are met with so much resistance (well, it's more a complete lack of attention than outright resistance) that I want to gouge out my eyes. I really do not want to indulge him and let him get away with ignoring me right now. On the other hand, the timing is really bad because I am so very uncomfortably pregnant (if there's a next time I will weigh no more than 125 pounds when the pregnancy begins. Any more than that, and it's way too painful too early!) and I simply *cannot* chase him down when he ignores me and make him follow through as consistently as I would like to. So I do way too much of the empty pleading that teaches him he can continue to ignore me without consequences. I am exhausted by this! Is it a boy thing? Or just a toddler thing? I have a feeling it's going to be a long-term thing :P

Owen is so excited about baby brudder. I wonder if he really has any idea what's going on, or if he just does a good job pretending that he does. He is always kissing my tummy, telling baby brudder to Come Out!, talking about where he's going to sit and what he's going to do and what he will eat. I don't suppose it can hurt for him to have lots of positive feelings about his arrival beforehand, even if the reality isn't as fun as his visions. It is very cute.

Owen has really turned a corner with food, in general. He's so much less picky now, and will try a lot more new things. He gets so excited about mealtimes, snacktimes, special treats (which aren't as infrequent as they should be) and picnics! He will eat almost anything if it's served on the picnic blanket in the front yard. Last night he surprised me by gobbling down a whole taco. Other recent new hits are fried rice and spinach soup at Reuel's cafeteria.

Reuel and Owen have been bonding on the weekends over mowing the lawn together, learning how to cast and reel in with Owen's fishing pole, digging in the yard, playing with the hose, etc. etc. Going outside with Daddy is pretty much little boy heaven. Unfortunately, the Daddy-love does not always transfer to the normal routines of life. Owen is still so mommy-centric, wanting me around all the time, fussing when Daddy gets him out of bed instead of me, when I attempt to not be around during bathtime, when I want to take a shower, or do anything else without him. We are definitely not equivalent grown-ups in his eyes. So I am attempting to keep some daddy-activities special, and when he wants to dig in the yard or use the tools, etc. I tell Owen that those are fun things to do with daddy, not with mommy. Not sure if that's a good idea or not, but it seems smart to at least let daddy be the fun guy, if he's not the favorite for kissing boo-boos and calming tantrums.

There are so many little things that happen that I tell myself to remember to write down. Then I blank when I sit down to write and it's all general, relatively boring stuff. Ack. I should just jot down a quick note now and then rather than trying to remember them and put them together in one post. Well, here's one I just remembered. We have some friends in town, Debbie and Justin. Owen doesn't know them all that well, but Mr. Justin recently ate dinner with us and Owen was quite standoffish around him, and a little nervous. By the end of the meal, he had warmed up a bit. Now if he sees Mr. Justin in a picture (we've been reviewing pix from his birthday party recently), he'll say, 'Misser Jussin!' and then sort of hide behind my shoulder and smile. This morning when we were looking at birthday pictures, he saw one of the empty cake plate, covered with crumbs but no cake. Out of the blue he says, 'All gone cake! Misser Jussin ate it up!' Where do these thoughts come from? It was funny because it was so random.

Signing off...