more Owen-isms

Today we are sitting at the table "working". I am balancing the checkbook (I know, so responsible right? Just wait...Oprah doesn't come on for another 45 min. Ha-ha), and Owen and Liam are coloring in their coloring books. It's such a nice, kind of quiet, industrious time. Then Owen looks up and says,

"Mommy, I hope I don't become a teenager."

Me: "Why?"

Owen: "Because the guy at the karate show said teenagers are shady and bluh-bluh." (this is said with much hand waving and some muttering. He probably didn't catch exactly what the guy said, which was along the lines of teenagers not watching where they're walking).

Me: "yeah, I hope you don't become a teenager either".

Mommy, Look!

Owen's favorite two words are "Mommy, look!" (actually "wook" because he still can't say his "Ls", which I LOVE). He says it when he is racing his cars on the kitchen floor while I'm cooking dinner, "Mommy, look. Which one is going to win the race? Limousine or Speed Race Purple Fast? (he names his cars, cute right?!) Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Look!" Then he keeps checking to make sure I'm looking.
Sometimes in the afternoon he watches a movie while Liam is napping. I should be making dinner, or folding laundry, or any one of a thousand household chores, but instead I sit on the couch and read. It's such a treat to sit and read in the middle of the day, but the price for this luxury is several "Mommy, Look!", as in "Mommy, look, Mater is going to fly to the moon", or "Mommy, look, the tractors are going to tip over". I don't mind because I figure I brought him into this world, I may as well let him show me it (Reader's Digest wisdom). What is funny is that he has caught on to the fact that I don't really look. If I'm reading, I'll say "oh wow" or "cool" without moving my eyes from the page. Now he says "look, look) and he keeps turning his head to make sure I'm looking at what he wants me to see. I can see his head out of the corner of my eye swiveling back and forth making sure I'm wooking.

Rhythm is gonna getcha

Lately Owen has been more aware of the "Mommy" music in the car. The other day Loren and I were singing the chorus from "We're Not Gonna Take It" (Twisted Sister - yeah!), and Owen asked me "what?". So I said, "what what?", and Owen said "not gonna take what?". We laughed, and said "it".
Then today he asked me if Christmas was here, and I said "not yet", and he said "but the radio said 'Christmas is here'" (yes, I was listening to Christmas music, and yes I know it's not even Thanksgiving yet, and yes, I know my Dad would rather poke his eye with a sharp stick than listen to Christmas carols on Nov 4th, and this is not even the point of this blog).
So as an ode to Owen, enjoy this video (and remember to turn off any songs with questionable lyrics you don't want to explain to a four-year old).

growing a boy

My boy Liam must be in training to become a big boy. He's been sleeping like a champ, and eating almost as much as Owen. This morning for breakfast he had a bowl of oatmeal with blueberries (which turns the oatmeal purple in case you were wondering what color his oatmeal is compared to Owen); two slices of cheese, a cup of OJ, half of my breakfast cereal, and a sippy cup of milk. That was all at one sitting! He's been down for a nap now for more than two hours, he must know that in two weeks he'll be two years old and ... a ... big boy!

Pink Oatmeal...explained

So this thing we do - "painting" the oatmeal is Owens' newest thing. He used to eat it all the time, but then got out of the habit. When I re-introduced it a month ago he was not into it at all so I got creative. First I added honey and cinnamon. All I got was the "head turn" (you know, where they turns up their nose). I took it away, did some mommy magic, and voila - pink oatmeal. Since then he's had every color in the rainbow and he eats up every last bite.

Pink Oatmeal

Click here to view these pictures larger

idle hands (this was accidentally left in "drafts" Oops)

I made two phone calls this afternoon. One was to REI to check a gift card balance, and the other was to FedEx to track my Bodum Chambord coffee press. I realize neither was vitally important, but it was on my mind and I thought I could take a few minutes to do these things.
What Owen and Liam did while I was on the phone:

Owen: tore the July page off the desk calendar and wrote my chores on the back for me. (there is a back story to this: I made a chore chart for him and posted it on the wall in the kitchen. It's a calendar grid with happy faces for the days he does his chores, and sad faces when he doesn't. Chores are getting dressed in the morning, picking up his toys at the end of the day, and setting the table). Now I have a chore chart too, including sweeping the floor, washing the dishes, watering the (non-existent) garden, and washing the clothes). He then proceeded to use up a roll of tape to affix my chore chart to the wall. Finally he locked the bathroom door from the outside with the lights on.

Liam: pounded on the wall with his plastic hammer; took the keys out of the drawer and jammed them into the sliding door track; reaaranged the contents of the desk drawer; and lost the cap to the glitter glue.

Was it worth it? Maybe in 6-8 weeks when the coffee press arrives.