Reminiscing

August/September 2009

I went wandering through our old iPhoto files the other day and was reminded of Owen's former penchant for disrobing when he was upset with us.  These days he's dropped the passive from passive aggressive and just starts swinging when he's mad.  We're working on finding the middle ground between burlesque and battery...

Owen and I are hopping a plane to Texas in a few hours.  Back on Monday to report on all the fun we had!

B & A: Computer Nook

Owen's Aunt Beck Beck reminded me the other day that she hasn't been to visit us since we moved last October, and she sweetly suggested I do more before & after blogs so she could see what we've been up to around here.  It sounds like fun to me, so I hope the rest of you don't mind!  Just so I don't start to fancy myself a design blogger, I'll always be sure to include Owen in the shot somewhere in these kind of posts.

I just finished the computer nook yesterday.  Don't ask how I managed to take the two photos from nearly the exact same spot a week apart.  The living room in our old house was a shade of green called Swampwater, and I still had about a quart left.  I used it on Owen's train table, now here, and who knows where it will strike again.  To hijack Shelby's line from Steel Magnolias, I think Swampwater "is my signature culla".

There you go Speck.  Now you can picture where I sit as I type!

Crane Pain

We woke to late February/early March skies today, so our plans to go to the pool were amended and we headed to the McWane Science Center with Amanda, Solomon and Selah instead.

Owen hasn't quite mastered the art of pedaling, so Solomon got to provide the horsepower.



It was so cute...

And then Owen decided to dismount at the same time Solomon came swinging through with the arm of the crane again.

The lady at the front desk wouldn't give me a bag of ice unless I filed an incident report - address, phone #, description of the event, signature, photocopies, etc.  So I sold poor Solomon out for a cheap, fold-over sandwich bag of frozen water.  The records of minors are sealed anyway, right?

  

Happy Mother's Day!

October 12, 1975

That's a poor man's scan of a photo taken of my mom and me almost 35 years ago.  It's been a long time since I fit that easily into her lap, but that doesn't mean there aren't still days when she carries me.  Even from 600 miles away, she makes me feel safer in the world.  

I love you Mom.  

Connoisseur

March 2010, Orlando, Joe's belongings

Owen ate a piece of cat food yesterday.  In summarizing its flavor profile, he said it was chewy and tasted like pickles.

Obvious answer

O:  Wha's dat on counter?

Me:  Um, it's a scent diffuser?  Reed scent diffuser?  No, bamboo reed diffuser.  Yeah, that's what I think they call it.

Owen looks ponderous.

O:  Owe-Owen jus' call it jar.

----------------------------

Hope you don't mind all the dialogue stuff lately.  We've officially moved into the funny conversation phase of parenthood.  

I was informed by a member of the Texas Mafia the other day that I hadn't posted nearly enough pics from our beach vacation.  Lest I end up donning concrete shoes...

Owen spent dinner smacking Scott and me around, so he was feeling considerably more affectionate towards Beck Beck and Uncle Joe.

Bossy... and polite

Transcript:

...come in here.  Get Owen out of his bed, please.  Please, Mommy, please!


Please, please, please.


... (inaudible)... bed, please!


Please.


... (inaudible)... get Owen out of Owen's bed, please please.


Get Owen out of - out of - Owen's bed, please.


... out of Owen's bed, please, please, please, please!


(Don't worry, I went right up and got him.)

2.5

The Weekend

Thanks for coming to visit us Jenn!

And Owen has figured out the "J" sound, so she is NeeNee no more.  Just try to call her that in his presence and he will restate your entire sentence for you with Jen-nee inserted instead.

Like Mother Like Son

When we got back from the grocery store last night, Owen put the cat food up all by himself.  I felt his pain about that left stack coming up one short.  That every kitty face on every single label isn't perfectly lined up tells me there is still hope for him.

Owen having a much less compulsive moment with a chocolate covered doughnut.

Signs

• I find myself cautioning Owen not to step on my bare feet.  All of a sudden it hurts now when he does it.

• I once could lay his shirts out flat inside his dresser drawers, but now I can't get them to fit unless I fold them like this:

• When I went into his room to get him out of his bed a few mornings ago, his first question of the day was, "Why Owen not itty baby anymore?" 

After leaving the beach one day...

Me:  Hey O, wanna come here so I can put your shoes on?
Owen:  No... Owen already has feets on.

Happy Monday

We're back from our week at the beach!  Owen has increased his tolerance of the place to include the sand, but not the water.  His favorite:  demolishing sandcastles.

I'll try to come back after lunch today with another post.  After a week away, I've got lots of stuff dancing in my head!

Go NeeNee!

Good Luck in the MS 150 this weekend Jenn.  We're proud of you!

You can go here to read about what she's doing.

Everyday Owen: Fever

And we had a field trip planned to the fire house today...

... at the Whistle Stop Cafe

Images via Hyperjet's Flikr photostream

After hearing of Owen's excitement about his new train table, my friend Elizabeth declared him ready for an outing to the train depot in Irondale.  The depot sits in front of the Irondale Cafe, inspiration for Fanny Flagg's Whistle Stop Cafe in Fried Green Tomatoes.

Elizabeth, Nancy and I packed picnic lunches and took the boys for an outing this morning, and here's how they felt when the first engine came down the line:

Here's how they felt after that engine sounded it's whistle:

But all's well that ends with banana pudding from the Irondale Cafe.  (I'll pass on the BBQ, though.)

Thanks Liz, Nancy and boys!  Idgie Threadgoode herself would have had to be there for it to have been any more fun.

Everyday Owen: Masters Sunday

Weally

Grand theft backhoe

Who would have thought I could raise a know-it-all?  It's downright shocking.

Sometimes he starts correcting me before he even gets out of his bed in the morning.

S:  Morning dear!

O:  (chin tucked, head shaking 'no') Eh... eh... Owen not weally a deer. 

The other day at the deli, he made the cashier laugh at me.

O:  Owen want some Cheetos?

S:  Sure hon.  You can get a bag of potato chips.

O:  (chin tucked again, head still shaking no) Eh... dey dey not weally chips. 

We were out in the yard working again today, and I told him I needed to get something out of the greenhouse.

O:  (chin ALWAYS tucked, head ALWAYS shaking no) It... it not weally green. 

I try to tell him it's not nice to correct people, but (as with any of his emerging habits that unsettle me) I know all he's done is process one of my faults and serve it back up to me.  Owen as mirror.  And I'm not talking about the forgiving skinny kind of mirror either.  This is the kind that they have in the bathrooms at fancy hotels that magnify your pores to the size of craters.  So sometimes I just placate him.

S:  You're absolutely right, Owen.  You are one smart cookie.

O:  Eh... eh...Owen not weally a cookie. 

*Fun news!  They featured Owen's train table on ohdeedoh.  

Two ways I know it's spring

Owen and I gardened a little yesterday and, ick, the pollen.  Owen is wearing his UGGs because he needs the lambswool lining to ease the pain of a blister on his right heel.  There is no excuse for why I'm wearing those sandals and have purple toenails though.  

And if you're watching The Masters today and see a guy in the gallery wearing a bright blue polo and an incredibly goofy, happy smile, that's Scott.  He finally scored a ticket to Augusta.

Just so I don't go breaking some mommy blogger code by making two consecutive posts without the appearance of my child's face, here's Owen enjoying some of Mimi's red velvet cake on Easter Sunday:

Before & After: Train Table

Before:

  

   After:

   

I don't have any true 'before' pics because I didn't remember to take them until after I'd already started stripping paint, so the table's pitiful original condition is a bit exaggerated.  What?  Plastic surgeons do it all the time.  At least I didn't photograph it under fluorescent light without any make-up and tell it to frown.

I found the table for $15 at The Salvation Army Store, and a mere 4 months and 20 hours of work later... tada!  The tabletop is cork on one side and chalkboard on the other, and I also lined the drawers with cork because they were cracked on the bottom.  I did spare another Thomas the Train topper that came with it.  Not my favorite, but I'm sure Owen will love it above all else.  

So there you have it.  Wait.  Let me just get turned around here.  There.  Now you can pat me on the back. (wink)(wink)