Little Things

I have completed exactly four-and-a-half pages of Owen's baby scrapbook over the last 3 years.  It seems this blog will serve as my main memory preserver, and there are a few endearing things I've noticed lately that I don't want to forget.

• Owen is all about finding new ways to mass-transport his toys.  Most often he's not even taking them anywhere with the purpose of playing with them; they are simply there to fill the space in his bucket, wagon, suitcase, gift bag, etc.  Packing and moving from room to room is the playing.
• Baskets are also a favorite.  He used to say "basset", but now he's got the k sound down... just in the wrong spot.  He says "bastick".

• Many evenings at dinner we have a community plate of apple slices.  Owen only cares for what he calls the "flat part" of the apple.  He eats what he likes and tosses the rest back like shrimp tails.
• The other day he told me that when he "gets borned again" a long time from now, he still wants me to be his mommy.  And he also requested St. Vincent's Hospital as his delivery site.

***If you are squeamish, outclick now.  Hurry!!!

I decided that if you pass out from getting stitches, the only way to lessen the humiliation is to take those stitches out yourself when the time comes.  So Scott and I set up our own little operation in the kitchen tonight and snipped those suckers out (see tiny black dots on center cotton swab).  Easy peasy.  I feel my dignity seeping back in already.