It’s hard to believe that Owen will be two years old in two months. And that he’ll have a little brother or sister in less than three months. I intended to give more updates about my second pregnancy. That hasn’t happened. Poor little unborn child – already getting neglected. I do promise to post something once about It #2 once It’s born.
I admit that most of my thoughts and activities revolve around Owen. Sometimes I completely forget that I’m pregnant; the security guard in my work building asked me when I was due the other day and my confused response was “Due for what?”
It’s Owen’s fault. He’s very demanding of my time and attention; my mind doesn’t have room for much else. But I enjoy Owen now more than ever. I almost wish there was more time before It #2 joins us. I’ll miss my one-on-one time with Little O.
A couple weeks ago, while shopping for clothes that Owen desperately needed since I somehow forgot about the changing seasons and the fact that Owen would not fit in his attire from last year, we passed by McDonald’s. Owen immediately began yelling “FRIES!”
He’s only been to McDonald’s a couple times in his lifetime and he’s never shown much interest in their fries. I have no idea why or how he remembered McDonald’s serves fries. All I know is that the people around me must have thought Owen ate there every day and Michelle Obama wouldn’t have been pleased.
Since I’m a sucker, we got lunch at McDonald’s. By the time we were waiting for our food, Owen was flapping his arms with excitement shouting for fries; I could barely contain him in my arms (or my embarrassment). The man beside us in line said “He really likes fries, doesn’t he?” Actually no. My son is just weird.
As I expected, he ate about two fries before refusing more. His excitement transferred to the empty beverage cup. Who knew a cup with a straw could be so fascinating? At least he didn’t throw any food at me, so I think our McDonald’s visit qualifies as progress.
One of Owen’s favorite things to say lately is “It’s cuuute!” When I get his outfit ready in the morning, he often looks it over and says “That’s cuuute!” Or he’ll grab his new shoes, bring them over to me to put on his feet and say “They’re cuuute.” I don’t know if he knows what “cute” means, but it’s super cute when he says it. He also likes to chase after me and say “I’m gonna get you!” It’s the best game of tag ever.
As Owen gets older it’s becoming increasingly clear that he takes after his daddy entirely. I told Richard that I hope our next child is a little bit like me since Owen is not. Richard reassuringly said Owen was like me in some ways. I asked him to name one thing. After a long pause, Richard’s “one thing” was that we both love the vacuum cleaner. Wonderful. Because that’s exactly what I wanted to have in common with my children.
Owen does love the vacuum cleaner. His obsession has not waned in the past month. When we’re walking outside looking at rabbits, out of nowhere he’ll ask “Where’s vacuum cleaner?” Further evidence that my son is weird.
Like every parent, I think my child is smart. He might even be smarter than me. Recently Owen dropped a drink coaster behind the couch. I told him I’d have to get it out later, that I couldn’t reach it. Owen fetched his toy broom and proceeded to show me how to use it to knock the coaster out from the couch. Owen = 1, Mom = 0.
And like the McDonald’s fries episode, Owen remembers the most random things. For example, while looking at a picture of the crucifix in a book at church, I told Owen that it was Jesus on the cross. Weeks later, he noticed a crucifix at another church and exclaimed “Jesus!”
He’s also starting to learn his colors (so far, he knows yellow, pink and purple) and to count. He’s very proud of his counting abilities. Anytime he sees two things, he likes to tell us. We walked past two dogs a couple nights ago and he said, “Puppies! Two puppies!”
Richard would be disappointed if I didn’t mention Owen’s other “major” milestone this month: he knows the Superman logo. He pronounces “Superman” surprisingly well for someone who still can’t say Walter.
Owen’s absolute favorite thing this month was taking walks with his wagon. He loves his wagon as much as he loves the vacuum cleaner. From the moment he wakes up in the morning, all he wants to do is go outside to pull his wagon around the neighborhood. He prefers to pull it by himself. If I touch the wagon to help him steer, he immediately yells at me “It’s mines! Go away!” He reminds me of Gollum in Lord of the Rings.
All the wagon pulling has helped turn Owen into a skinny boy. His baby fat is almost gone now. Guess I can’t call him “Chubs” anymore.
Here’s The Toddler Formerly Known As Chubs with his beloved wagon:
As his second year of life winds down, Owen continues to check things off his “to do” list. He hosted his first yard sale and made an impressive $77 for his bank account.
He also experienced his first trip to the dentist. This visit involved a lot of screaming. You can tell by his face how he feels about the dentist:
