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Owen, Addendum

Sweet Owen,

Your last letter did not do you justice. Here's my attempt to make good.

You sing two songs. You do "Choo-choo choo choo up the railroad track" and "Bubble bubble bubble bubble pop," both complete with appropriate hand motions. You repeat almost any word you hear or sign you see. On Tuesday, it was looking in a mirror, being asked "Where's Owen?" and pointing to yourself and saying "Owen." Yesterday you wanted another veggie chip, I asked you to say please, while signing it, and you repeated both the word and the sign.

You can answer almost any question you are asked. Yes, you want to go outside. Yes, you want to go to the pool. Yes, you can go get the blue ball and give it to Mia. No, you do not want to take your shoes off, you most certainly do not. You even tell me just before you need a diaper change, but then spend ten minutes running away from me once the need is actualized.

You are slowly discovering the joys of swimming (splashing, floating, splashing, toys, splashing), can sit and play with your sister (when she will tolerate it) for surprisingly long stretches, and love above all things to run away from me while giggling madly. When I take you to the pool, you spend most of your time picking up girls. I keep telling you that you are too young, but you don't care.

You are incorrigible, you never met a "no" you couldn't ignore, an obstacle you couldn't scale while your mother shrieks in horror, or an object you couldn't bash your head firmly against. Last night you pitched head first off the bed, howled for a minute, and then demanded "up, up, up" to do it again.

When the phone rings you put your hand over your ear and say "hi." Everything is a phone to you, your shoes, the monitors, toy cars. You love to open and close things, hide, play peek-a-boo, give hugs and sloppy open-mouthed kisses and skin-tingling high fives. The world spreads out before you like a never-ending playground, and you are in constant motion trying to discover every inch of it before another despised naptime or bedtime rolls around.

Love,
Mama

Comments (3)

Sounds like quite the adventuresome young man you have there! :)

"you spend most of your time picking up girls. I keep telling you that you are too young, but you don't care."

sadly Beth, you will feel this way until he is 35. And HATE all of his girlfriends. Cause he's YOURS and no one will ever be good enough for him.
probably...lol

Great posting. I'd say that I envy you having little ones under foot. But I don't. I Do envy the wonder Owen brings to each and every mundane situation.
Thanks for sharing.
you're a good mom charlie brown.
Karen :)

Speaking of a possible third child, how is you husbands dishwasher?

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So the Fish Said...

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear.

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