Pumpkin Carving

We got together with the H family for (I think) the 4th year and carved pumpkins this past Saturday.  Some years we draw our own and some years we cheat and use patterns.  This was a cheater year.  Owen is going to be Yoda for Halloween, so we went for a matching pumpkin.  Stay tuned to see our Star Wars family costumes.  Duuh Duuh da da da Duuh Duuh da da da Duuh Duuh dun-dun-dun-duuuuh...

There was a pumpkin judging, and I'm sad to say my Yoda pumpkin got last place (I might have stood a better chance if the Jedi master's face hadn't fallen out right as the ribbons were being distributed).  Scott's pirate got 2nd.  First place went- coincidentally, I'm sure, to the pumpkin carved by the judge's father for said judge.  I smell a fix.

And since I didn't make it into a single one of the carving party photos, I feel like sharing this one that Owen took of me after church Sunday.  Kid looks out for his mother.

In the mail

Owen's birthday party invites went out this week.  He's asked for a garbage truck party, and I've accepted the challenge!  There's a surprising amount of info out there about refuse-themed parties, so I've been able to steal some good ideas.  I briefly considered asking the garbage man to make a cameo with his truck but decided no one wants to smell that kind of authenticity.  People might start losing their cupcakes.  We'll see how it all comes together!

Owen making the drop in (l) 2010 and (r) 2009.

Chainsaw City

If you are a preschool-aged boy, bliss is waking to the sounds of heavy machinery outside your bedroom window.  A tall pin oak to the right of our driveway has been looking sickly ever since we moved in, and even though it made me feel a little like we were setting an elderly Eskimo adrift on an ice floe, we decided it was time for her to come down.  So Owen was greeted bright and early this morning by the rumble of a bucket truck, dump truck and skid steer loader pulling into our driveway.

 

We invited friends over to watch and enjoyed all the snapping, sawing and hollering.  And then came the best part of all:  they offered Owen a ride up in the bucket!

Yeah, he hated it.  He doesn't even let the baggers at the grocery store push him in the cart on the way to our car, so I don't know why I thought he'd be cool riding up into the sky with a kind stranger.  But twenty bucks says he goes to school and brags about it anyway.

Maybe Owen had misgivings after he saw the condition of the owner's truck.

Wisdom from Owen

Mommy?

Tumtimes people share, and tumtimes people don't share

... and that's a problem.

Someone please tell me how to get Owen to stop doing this.

Laundrybasketball

The Weekend: A Monkey and a Crane

We went to the Bluff Park Art Show this past Saturday, which is always a fun time.  There are lots of local and regional artists, good food, jazz music and two playgrounds and some dirt for Owen.  Everybody wins!

Scott and I swore that we would end the dry spell and actually purchase some art there this year, and we did!  Owen sniffed out every booth with animal-themed work (even the odd little friends of this artist), but when we wandered into Michelle Prahler's booth we knew it was the one.  We told Owen he could pick whichever one he wanted, which he briefly misinterpreted as permission to act like a contestant on Supermarket Sweep.

Ultimately we avoided any larceny charges and paid for the monkey painting Owen is holding in the photos above.  He had us hang it that very night above the reading chair in his room.  I think he made a great choice!

We were heading home for Owen's nap when he spotted a giant crane at Wald Park, and I realized it must be the weekend for winterizing the local pool.  So we did a yooey, postponed nap for about an hour, and had a blast watching them put up the giant air dome.

Pronouns

Owen has a cold today (bobo  nose, as he says) so he only consented to having half of his head photographed.  

That's a new haircut- it still needs a few days to overcome the shock of it all and lay back down.

This morning while we were eating breakfast on the couch (uh huh) Owen looked up at me and for no good reason said, "I take care of you Mommy."

This is major for two reasons.

1)  Awwwwww!

2)  He didn't say, "Owen take care of Mommy,"  he said, "I take care of you."  

I'm going to really miss hearing him talk in third person.