A confession

See that little green bar graph in the top left corner?  I've been watching you.

Please don't get mad and leave.  It's not as creepy as you think.  It doesn't let me spy on you through your webcam as you sit at your computer in your PJs eating mini chocolate chips straight from the bag.  It doesn't even tell me exactly who you are (or if it does I'm not clever enough to figure it out).  Sometimes it tells me what city you're from, but often it misleads me because it approximates locations from partial IP addresses, which means it can be hundreds of miles off.  Mostly I just like to look at how many people stop by, how long they stay, and how they found us. (If someone follows a link from another site to our page, it shows up as a referral.)  So if someone in Iceland Googles a phrase I just happened to use on our blog and it leads him to our page, Sitemeter tells us we got a referral from Google.  Want to know which of my posts has reeled in the most Googlers?  The one in which I referenced Lady Heather.  Bunch of perverts. 

This past Sunday night I decided to check Sitemeter for the first time in a few weeks, and I discovered multiple hits on our site from Wayne, West Virginia.

"Hey Scott.  Someone in West Virginia has been going to the blog every day, several times a day.  They've even made us one of their Blogger favorites.  I can tell 'cause Blogger shows up as the referring site on their visits.  They just logged on again 5 minutes ago!  We have a new fan!"

I'm sitting at the computer smiling to myself and scrolling through the Sitemeter info when two things jump out at me:

A)  Our new fan happens to also be a Charter customer

B)  The cookie I'd set to tell Sitemeter to ignore my own visits to our blog had been disabled

My new fan?  Was me.

Oh yeah, and here's a post-nap photo of Owen since that's really why you're here :)

Everyday Owen: Dancing

Everyday Owen: Club Love

I'm breaking EO rules, but I just have to point out that he is kissing the club in that second photo and that he took his own golf stance in the third one.  I would declare him a prodigy except that shortly after this photo was taken, he attempted to walk through that doorway while holding the club... 

horizontally.

Weekend Recap

We had a busy weekend!  Owen had his first official babysitter Friday night while we went to our annual ornament exchange party, and I would have been fine had I not let him pull a Meredith-Viera-trying-to-ice-skate-with-Will-Ferrell move (google it if you don't get the reference) less than 30 minutes before I had to leave him.  Only in Owen's version he was in the kitchen naked and slipped and fell in his own pee puddle.  

Note to self:  Remove this post before Owen gets to middle school.

On Saturday we went to Southside to watch the Jingle Bell Run.  We cheered on our more fit friends and enjoyed the spectacle of runners in Santa hats and dogs dressed like reindeer.  Saturday night we celebrated Scott's birthday here with his family, and Sunday afternoon we kept the 1-year-old nursery for 3.5 hours during a church event.  I'm happy to report everyone survived the latter-mentioned activity.  Somewhere in there, we also put up our tree - which we've decided to rock old school as long as there are kids in the house.  Bring on the giant multi-color bulbs, mismatched ornaments and construction paper chain link garland - we can handle it!  

And I'll close with kisses from Owen.  Yes, that's Kenny Loggins' "Celebrate Me Home" playing in the background.  How unfortunate.

Everyday Owen: Royal Tannenbaum

Happy Birthday Mr. Stevens!

When I could hear that Owen was awake this morning, I stayed curled up in bed and pretended to be lazy (such a tough sell) so that Owen could be the first to wish his dad Happy Birthday. Yep, that's the same banner from Owen's party.  It's fabric so I plan to be hauling that thing out for years and years to come.  Don't be surprised to find it hanging around on some of your birthdays too!  Here's a reminder of how father and son looked this time last year.  Aren't my guys handsome?

I was hoping Owen would put on a brave face and send his dad off to start his birthday with a smile, but he opted to lay on the usual guilt trip instead.

  

It really is heartbreaking how much he loves his dad.  Maybe I should just get a job and let the two of them pal around together all day...

Nah!  But I've really, really got to get some video of the face Owen makes when he hears Scott's keys in the door in the evenings.  I'm usually feeding him so he's strapped into his highchair, but that doesn't stop him from running in place trying to get to the door, his whole face lit up.  And I may hide it better, but I feel the same way.

Happy Birthday Dear Scott.  We love you!

13.

Thanksgiving

I HAD LOTS OF OTHER turkey[ day PHOTOS TO UPLOAD TOO, BUT THE BLOGGER GODS ARE FROWNING ON ME TODAY.  OH, & I SPILLED PEPSI On THE KEYBOARD SO IT TYPES ALL CAPS . .ALSo seEMs to. .b.e ..hav.in.g .a feW o.tHeR ISSUESnOw t.oo.  Sco.Tt IS go.In.g to. be dispLeaseD 

New Face

You'll have to use your imagination to hear him snorting air in and out of his nose. 

We recovered in time to have a wonderful Thanksgiving at GG's (Hope you all did too!  I'll post pics soon.).  I even had enough energy to help Scott clean out the attic today while Owen had a play day with his grandparents.  Our best find up there in the wasteland of spider carcasses and shingle dust?  My passport!!!  Too bad I already paid for a new one, but at least now I have my stamps from Europe and Africa.    

One year ago yesterday...

my friend Greer took these pictures.  Owen was three weeks old, weighed about as much as your average cantaloupe, and we were temporarily homeless (but staying with Scott's gracious parents).

I had to dig into the archives to find happier times because Owen and I are currently being plagued by a virus.  And I'm not referring to the genteel head cold kind of virus either.  But yes, poor Owen is still recovering from that type too.  It's nothing apocalyptic (like the Davenport Family Virus of New Year's Eve '07), but we're uncomfortable for sure.  Say a prayer for Scott's immune system to keep holding it off!  If any of you folks in town offered him a room, I bet he'd be tempted to take it.

Hopefully I'll be back at the end of the week to report that we salvaged a happy Thanksgiving.  In the meantime I'm cramming all that will fit into our washing machine and dousing with Lysol all that won't.  

Everyday Greta

Owen is under the weather, so you'll have to settle for a picture of our girl instead.  I think he's just got a little cold, but his nose is producing some pretty impressive snot bubbles.  If I'm able to capture one on "film" you'll know!

He's currently slathered in Vicks and napping close to his humidifier.  Scott is on a golf outing, so the only noise in the house right now (besides the clacking of my keyboard) is a sweet little wheezy snore coming over the monitor.

Whipped

Got sensitive teeth?  Untreated cavities?  Well be careful which side of your mouth you use to chew on this entry.  It's going to be sweet.  I'm normally concerned about whether I come across as a baby-shrine-building mommy blogger, so I try to walk a fine line between including enough details to keep the Crosby mafia happy and making it funny enough to be palatable to everyone else who stops by.  But lately Owen has me whipped.  Of course I loved him even when he was just a creepy looking little amoeba inside my womb, but I can now say I have completely fallen in love with him.  I'm talking about the missing him when he walks (walks!) into another room, swooning at the sight of his 6-tooth smile, hating to even put him to bed at night kind of crazy in love.

So pardon me while I indulge myself by making a list of things I'm loving about this baby right now.

• You know the laugh you do when you're stuck in a conversation with someone and you don't really have anything to say back to them but you don't want to be rude?  Well Owen does that for me when he knows I'm trying to be funny.  "Heh, heh."
• I can tell when he's going to fall down just by the expression on his face (before he even starts to sway or stagger).  It's a surprised, mildly panicked look, like someone dropped an ice cube down his shorts.
• He can have more fun with 2 golf balls, a Tupperware lid, half a dried leaf, and a lint roller than with a warehouse full of Fisher Price toys.  And when he gets a golf ball in each hand and tries to crawl he looks just like an ape doing the knuckle-walk. 
• His new favorite word?  "Yes."  Except he says it with a Walter Matthau accent.  I didn't have any luck capturing it here, but when I played the video back for him later he replied "yesh, yesh" to the recorded version of me.
• The top of his head smells like marshmallows.
• His walking toy has a tray at the bottom with 24 blocks in it, but he only plays with the four green ones.  Which must mean we have the same favorite color.
• He walks like a frat boy on a Friday night.  See for yourself, but try not to notice how our living room looks like its been sprayed down with a hoseful of red, blue & yellow plastic toys.
• He is the relentless host of "Name that Object", a game in which he grabs two items and randomly holds out one of them for me to name.  Our most recent game sounded like this:  "Nasal spray, mascara, nasal spray, mascara, mascara, mascara, nasal spray."

Everyday Owen: Playground

Everyday Owen: Signing for more oatmeal

Everyday Owen: Walkin'

Check-up

Owen had his 1-year check-up today, and minus a prediction that he will need glasses like his father, he passed with flying colors.  Dr. Stacey even checked to make sure his little bum cheeks were even. I guess that has something to do with his leg development?  And we got the green light to wean him off the reflux meds.  Woohoo!

The stats:

20.25.............................weight (15th %ile)

29.25.............................length (45th %ile)

19.5..............................head circumference

4..................................shots 

Everyday Owen: Dog

The Party

Everyday Owen: Post-party

We're still pooped from the big party on Sunday.  Let us get a few good naps and maybe another night's sleep under our belts and we'll share all the details.  Thanks to everyone who came and spoiled O with gifts and good company!

Everyday Owen: New Ride

Clean-up on Aisle 5

Owen and I went shopping for groceries to make yummy stuff for his birthday party this coming Sunday.  I spent most of the morning cross-checking recipes with the pantry and fridge and marking my Real Simple grocery checklist so that I could move efficiently through the store.  Sound nerdy?  It gets better.  I don't just use any old mark in the boxes next to the items I need.  I put a "/" before I leave home and I add a "\" when I actually place the item in my cart.  Get it?  It's foolproof.  Unless you happen to be a big enough fool to bring your overtired 1-year-old shopping with you.

Owen starts getting sleepy again about 4 hours after he wakes each morning.  I know this.  And I also knew that he woke up at 6:30 this morning.  Yet no alarm bell sounded in my head when I packed him up and rolled our shopping cart into Publix at 10:30 AM today.

We hadn't even made it through the produce section before he started to wilt.  I attempted to use Common Parenting Tactic #1:  Create a diversion.  I took the three oranges I'd just picked out and gave them to him so he could help me put them in the little plastic (gasp!) produce bag.  Only they were too heavy for him and he got frustrated, and then it occurred to me that the oranges had probably been sprayed with some kind of waxy toxin that was going to make him grow an eleventh toe.  So I abandoned Tactic #1 and quickly moved to Common Parenting Tactic #2 (which I usually don't have to employ until somewhere around the shampoo & deodorant aisle):  Offer Cheerios.  And the rest of our experience went something like this:

Aisle 2: Cheerios working.

Aisle 3: Get stuck trying to find Sugar Free Instant Vanilla Pudding.  Realize some goofus has obscured said item with a misplaced box of Sugar Free Instant Lemon Pudding.  Almost don't notice O standing up in cart.  Wrestle him back down.  Offer more Cheerios.

Aisle 4: Discover O is missing shoe, probably from wrestling match.  Return to Aisle 3.

Aisle 5: O gets full on Cheerios. Becomes more interested in them as projectile objects. Abandon Tactic #2. Realize I don't have a Tactic #3.

Aisle 6: O crying. Revisit Tactic #1: Try steering shopping cart fast and crazy past the moisturizers and dental floss. O now petrified, crying harder.

Aisle 7: Give Cheerios back with stern warning not to throw them. Tack on, "I mean it Owen. I'm not playing. " for maximum intimidation.

Aisle 7.5: O grabs handful, swings a stiff arm to side of cart like it's the arm of a crane, locks eyes with me, and opens his palm to the floor.

The remaining aisles are a blur of speed-shopping and cajoling and retrieving objects from the floor. At checkout, I was astounded to discover I had picked up a $9.00 box of garbage bags (20 cents a bag!). For that price, they'd better tie themselves closed and walk to the curb every Tuesday and Friday.

But we survived. O took a monster 3-hour nap when we got home, and I did a figurative belly flop into the gallon of Milo's sweet tea that was intended for the party. I may be awake until next Tuesday.

    

Everyday Owen: Toes

Everyday Owen: Birthday Recap

Year in review

Dear Owen,

We went on a walk this morning and you made friends with an old man and his dog Lady.  You do that a lot... befriend people.  You are a fraction of the size of most people you encounter so you have to work pretty hard sometimes to get their attention, and you only have 4 or 5 words in your vocabulary so you rely mostly on your blue eyes and your smile to let them know how happy you are to see them.  But you are almost always successful in getting the harried businessman at the airport to pause for a moment- or the frustrated lady in line behind us at the department store to smile- or the shy elderly couple in the produce section to speak.  In your eyes it seems, just about everyone is fascinating and has potential.  And I am happy to be your apprentice when it comes to this way of thinking.  I've changed in a lot of ways since I had you, but it never occurred to me that motherhood might make me a friendlier person.  One of the many reasons I find you amazing?  You are my goodwill ambassador.  

Happy Birthday O.  I love you!

---Mom

Your turn!  Want to share something you love about Owen?  Or want to tell him something you remember about the day he was born?  I'll save it for him to read when he is older.  Leave a comment, send an e-mail, write a letter, call, whatever!!!

Oh happy day

Prepare yourselves for a tone deaf rendition of "Happy Birthday".  I would suggest you sing along... loudly.  

The end of daylight savings has Owen waking before dawn right now, so I know you can't see as much of his face as you would like.  I darkened the background of the blog to try to help, but you serious Owen fans may want to turn out the lights and let your eyes adjust a little so you can see his face better.

Slideshows and sappy thoughts to come later this afternoon.