Owen loves the song "I like Yaks" (sorry, I'm feeling too lazy to get up and find the artist but it's an awesome song I actually referenced in a blog post almost a year ago). At dinner tonight we were playing music from Keith's iTunes (in our "house", the dining room doubles as the computer room). After the Yak song finished, Owen said "More yak?" so Keith went to the computer to choose the song again. However, when the song started we quickly realized it wasn't "I like Yaks" but rather Bikini Kill's "I love f&*king". Nice.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Turns out they do learn something from TV
For awhile Owen has been mesmerized with this one skit on Sesame Street that has Elmo singing and dancing with an R&B singer in a songs about signs in the neighborhood.
I actually love this skit, which is good because when it is done Owen usually asks me to replay it at least two more times. Having said that, the skit also cracks me up. I don't know who the R&B singer is, but he is a glorious example of R&B style, wearing matching yellow and green everything. Hat, shoes, clothing, even shoelaces - all coordinated. He looks like he's headed to Oakland A's mascot tryouts.
On top of this, he looks quasi-gangster, so the first time I heard him start singing in a soft falsetto I did a double-take and laughed out loud at the TV. It had not been what I was expecting.
But the song is catchy, and invariably ends up reeling through my head much of the time. It talks about different signs in the neighborhood, like "Stop" "Open", "school", and "zoo". So on the way to Starbucks this morning, and perched atop Daddy's shoulders, Owen pointed to the grocery store and said "Market!". We don't use the term market since we are both under 85, so we realized he must have learned that word from Elmo and the Oakland A's mascot. Turns out they can learn from TV!
I actually love this skit, which is good because when it is done Owen usually asks me to replay it at least two more times. Having said that, the skit also cracks me up. I don't know who the R&B singer is, but he is a glorious example of R&B style, wearing matching yellow and green everything. Hat, shoes, clothing, even shoelaces - all coordinated. He looks like he's headed to Oakland A's mascot tryouts.
On top of this, he looks quasi-gangster, so the first time I heard him start singing in a soft falsetto I did a double-take and laughed out loud at the TV. It had not been what I was expecting.
But the song is catchy, and invariably ends up reeling through my head much of the time. It talks about different signs in the neighborhood, like "Stop" "Open", "school", and "zoo". So on the way to Starbucks this morning, and perched atop Daddy's shoulders, Owen pointed to the grocery store and said "Market!". We don't use the term market since we are both under 85, so we realized he must have learned that word from Elmo and the Oakland A's mascot. Turns out they can learn from TV!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Stone
We met Unc, Sharon, and Amy at Stone Brewery last night for dinner. They'd never been there, and the architecture is great, as are the beers of course, and the food is good as well.
Owen was being adorable, charming the pants off everyone around us, watching the fish in the indoor koi pond. We went to play outside for a bit and I noticed a group of twentysomethings at my favorite outdoor table.
This table is set aside from other tables and is covered by a trellace with flowering hops growing around, making the area secluded into a lush green cave. The table seats 8, and is a simple rustic wooden rectangular table. We get this table often, in our bigger groups, and I end up picture something off a Gourmet magazine cover when we dine there.
I watched the group there and a thought hit me quickly: I will never be at the phase in life again where they are now. I envied them completely for a few moments, remembering the late nights out, the flirting, joking, drinking, sharing of secrets. The magic of being in my twenties.
I still maintain that I prefer being thirtysomething. I prefer the perspective, calm, stability, lasting relationships, and comfort of this phase. But I had a blast in my 20s, and am glad things were often a little too dramatic, crazy, fun. I haven't missed out on anything, at least. So, I can't help but miss it for a few moments here and there.
Owen was being adorable, charming the pants off everyone around us, watching the fish in the indoor koi pond. We went to play outside for a bit and I noticed a group of twentysomethings at my favorite outdoor table.
This table is set aside from other tables and is covered by a trellace with flowering hops growing around, making the area secluded into a lush green cave. The table seats 8, and is a simple rustic wooden rectangular table. We get this table often, in our bigger groups, and I end up picture something off a Gourmet magazine cover when we dine there.
I watched the group there and a thought hit me quickly: I will never be at the phase in life again where they are now. I envied them completely for a few moments, remembering the late nights out, the flirting, joking, drinking, sharing of secrets. The magic of being in my twenties.
I still maintain that I prefer being thirtysomething. I prefer the perspective, calm, stability, lasting relationships, and comfort of this phase. But I had a blast in my 20s, and am glad things were often a little too dramatic, crazy, fun. I haven't missed out on anything, at least. So, I can't help but miss it for a few moments here and there.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Owen's Birth Story Part 1: The First Labor
I figured with Owen's second birthday looming, now was as good a time any to write his birth story. Yes, that's right, his birth story. I figured it will change over time; perhaps after a few tellings I will break the hospital bed headboard with my bare hands, or Owen will come out with a giant head for the record books. Actually, the latter situation may not be too far from reality. In any case, writing down as much as I can remember is probably a good Mommy Exercise.
I loved being pregnant. The pregnancy was mostly easy. A bit of morning sickness, a heaping dose of pregnancy paranoia, and a few dashes of shit from my OB about having gained two womens' worth of pregnancy weight gets us up to my 34th week.
Anyone who has met me knows that I am not...delicate. My sister's preterm labors, while upsetting and stressful in each case, were not altogether surprising considering how petite her frame is. But I would never in a million years have believed that my Amazonian frame would go into labor anywhere close to 34 weeks. I tower over the average woman, and can carry my weight equivalent easily on my head. Ok that last part isn't true, but you get the point. Preterm labor wasn't expected. Even now, when I mention this to well-meaning and often normally-tactful friends they inadvertently glance at my ample birthing hips and ask, "What was that about, do you think...?" I shrug and say, "I guess it's just something my body did."
I loved being pregnant. The pregnancy was mostly easy. A bit of morning sickness, a heaping dose of pregnancy paranoia, and a few dashes of shit from my OB about having gained two womens' worth of pregnancy weight gets us up to my 34th week.
Anyone who has met me knows that I am not...delicate. My sister's preterm labors, while upsetting and stressful in each case, were not altogether surprising considering how petite her frame is. But I would never in a million years have believed that my Amazonian frame would go into labor anywhere close to 34 weeks. I tower over the average woman, and can carry my weight equivalent easily on my head. Ok that last part isn't true, but you get the point. Preterm labor wasn't expected. Even now, when I mention this to well-meaning and often normally-tactful friends they inadvertently glance at my ample birthing hips and ask, "What was that about, do you think...?" I shrug and say, "I guess it's just something my body did."
Because, truly, when you're pregnant, you are no longer captain of your own ship. Whether it's the insatiable need to eat Cap'n Crunch for all 9 meals of the day, or whether it's gaining 46 pounds with a first pregnancy, your body will figure out how to be pregnant without any input from you, thank you very much.
So, in that spirit of complete powerlessness, I gave up and called my OBs office when, at 34 weeks, I was actually experiencing strong, regular cramping. Jackie, my nurse, told me to head to L&D for monitoring - do not stop to get ice cream. It was February 28th, 2007. Owen's due date was April 14th, 2007. I packed up my office, not knowing I wouldn't set fot at work again for months.
I figured it was all Braxton-Hicks, or, more likely, all in my head. But after several hours at the hospital, a few bolus shots of meds to stop the contactions, and some entertaining moments watching our nurse try to learn a new computer system, we were sent home with some prescriptions and strict orders to stay in bed. All the time. For at least three weeks.
I still didn't really believe it was true. I knew my OB was considered "conservative" in this respect, so figured she was overreacting. Much like the night Eddie, Keith, and I were held at gunpoint by a rookie and very mistaken cop, I figured I understood the situation better than the expert. But my husband was firm: bedrest.
A couple panicked calls to my boss later, an uncomfortable drive (sitting was the worst), and we were home, settling me into my new nest.
I'll skip the details about the upcoming weekend being the one I'd planned to do the baby's room, or the fact that I could not help from watching the Baby 911 shows about scary labor and deliveries where sometimes the baby actually didn't turn out great. I was a terrible patient: bored, restless, grumpy; sneaking out almost daily to buy baby things at Target. It's a miracle I made it to 37 weeks.
So, in that spirit of complete powerlessness, I gave up and called my OBs office when, at 34 weeks, I was actually experiencing strong, regular cramping. Jackie, my nurse, told me to head to L&D for monitoring - do not stop to get ice cream. It was February 28th, 2007. Owen's due date was April 14th, 2007. I packed up my office, not knowing I wouldn't set fot at work again for months.
I figured it was all Braxton-Hicks, or, more likely, all in my head. But after several hours at the hospital, a few bolus shots of meds to stop the contactions, and some entertaining moments watching our nurse try to learn a new computer system, we were sent home with some prescriptions and strict orders to stay in bed. All the time. For at least three weeks.
I still didn't really believe it was true. I knew my OB was considered "conservative" in this respect, so figured she was overreacting. Much like the night Eddie, Keith, and I were held at gunpoint by a rookie and very mistaken cop, I figured I understood the situation better than the expert. But my husband was firm: bedrest.
A couple panicked calls to my boss later, an uncomfortable drive (sitting was the worst), and we were home, settling me into my new nest.
I'll skip the details about the upcoming weekend being the one I'd planned to do the baby's room, or the fact that I could not help from watching the Baby 911 shows about scary labor and deliveries where sometimes the baby actually didn't turn out great. I was a terrible patient: bored, restless, grumpy; sneaking out almost daily to buy baby things at Target. It's a miracle I made it to 37 weeks.
Coming up: dancing the baby out...
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Translation: chocolate
We spent a lovely day with the Havens, with a quick break between lunch and dinner to head to the zoo while the Havens went to a funeral. After Sharon's ridiculously awesome dinner, she did what only goddesses and smart husbands do: she busted out the Cherry Garcia.
Cherry Garcia is, quite easily, my favorite ice cream, ever. I didn't used to like ice cream much, but something about growing a human being inside my belly turned me onto the stuff and now my love for ice cream and wine are the only things keeping me from my sexy jeans.
Tonight, Owen was mooching ice cream from Unc, and as I was harvesting a delicious dark chocolate morsel from my own bowl, I realized that Sharon, Unc, and Amy would be tickled to hear how Owen calls chocolate "chock chock". I asked him, "Owies, can you say 'chocolate'?" He looked at me with a look of such pure hope and said, "Please??"
Yep - that's what I call chocolate too.
Cherry Garcia is, quite easily, my favorite ice cream, ever. I didn't used to like ice cream much, but something about growing a human being inside my belly turned me onto the stuff and now my love for ice cream and wine are the only things keeping me from my sexy jeans.
Tonight, Owen was mooching ice cream from Unc, and as I was harvesting a delicious dark chocolate morsel from my own bowl, I realized that Sharon, Unc, and Amy would be tickled to hear how Owen calls chocolate "chock chock". I asked him, "Owies, can you say 'chocolate'?" He looked at me with a look of such pure hope and said, "Please??"
Yep - that's what I call chocolate too.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Cup
Owen is largely using a cup at this point. It can be messy when he overestimates how much to tilt the cup to his mouth, or when he gets distracted a pours milk on the floor. But the best part, the cutest perk of it all can be summed up in three words: Awesome. Milk. Mustaches.
Naked
Jenn brought the kiddos over on Thursday night for some pizza and canned green beans (we do it fancy here). I love hearing about the kids when she and I get together for Thursday Girls Nights, and seeing them regularly just thrills me. They are such GOOD kids, each full of such personality.
Jack is all boy. Trains, puzzles, Mom. Ava is the princess sweetie, quiet smiles, gentle, thrilled by praise. (Owen is already hopelessly in love with Ava). Cate is Miss Sassypants. She is boisterous, hilarious, and totally sassy. I told Jenn she should have named Cate "Karma".
The kids took tubbies over here, Owen smiling as he's sandwiched between the girls (Jack preferred a short rinse). After the bath, as is our household custom, we let Owen run around naked for a bit. He grabbed his dinosaur jammies and ran around roaring. Auntie Jenn asked, "Are you a naked dinosaur?". Then from the other room Cate said, "Mom," (and I could almost hear her head cock to the side and her hands land on her hips in exasperation), "Dinosaurs are ALWAYS naked!"
So true.
------------------
The next morning, as we drove Owen to school, we asked who came over to play the night before.
"Jack!" he exclaimed.
"Who else?" we asked.
"Cate." he said. Then, "Jenn!"
"And? Who else?"
He looked pensive, trying to remember who else was there. I asked, "Was Ava there too?"
And he smiled a big lovestruck smile and breathed, "Aaaava!"
Jack is all boy. Trains, puzzles, Mom. Ava is the princess sweetie, quiet smiles, gentle, thrilled by praise. (Owen is already hopelessly in love with Ava). Cate is Miss Sassypants. She is boisterous, hilarious, and totally sassy. I told Jenn she should have named Cate "Karma".
The kids took tubbies over here, Owen smiling as he's sandwiched between the girls (Jack preferred a short rinse). After the bath, as is our household custom, we let Owen run around naked for a bit. He grabbed his dinosaur jammies and ran around roaring. Auntie Jenn asked, "Are you a naked dinosaur?". Then from the other room Cate said, "Mom," (and I could almost hear her head cock to the side and her hands land on her hips in exasperation), "Dinosaurs are ALWAYS naked!"
So true.
------------------
The next morning, as we drove Owen to school, we asked who came over to play the night before.
"Jack!" he exclaimed.
"Who else?" we asked.
"Cate." he said. Then, "Jenn!"
"And? Who else?"
He looked pensive, trying to remember who else was there. I asked, "Was Ava there too?"
And he smiled a big lovestruck smile and breathed, "Aaaava!"
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Dusty Blog
[blows dust off blog] Oh damn, I'm sorry - did I just blow dust in anyone's face? How rude!
I'm not going to try to pretend that I'll be much better at this, but I do miss blogging so I hope I can somehow get back into at least once-a-week, if not more. I guess lately I've been too busy teaching my kid to say damnit and losing track of what my employees are up to to have much to write about on here.
One thing that has been bouncing around in my head lately is all the things that Owen does that I never, ever want to forget. So here's a small list:
1. He says "yesh" instead of "yes"
2. If he really wants something, and you ask him if he wants it, he goes, "YEAH!" and throws his hands in the air like his team just scored a goal. (See? A soccer reference, not a football reference. I've already gotten the lecture from Nonni about how disappointed she'd be if Owen played football).
3. He taps his finger on his chin and says "Hmmmm" when he's thinking something over.
4. He hums the first two notes of the Thomas the Tank Engine theme and then looks at us expectantly to finish it.
5. He is obsessed with our personalized version of "The Wheels on the Bus" - where Mamy (Amy) says "Where's my book", Taco says "I love clams", Charlie says "Let's play trucks", Reilly says "I love food", Mimi (Erin) says "Give me hugs", Nonni says "I love you", Unc says "Where's my Owen?", Titi (Sharon) says "You're so cute". I sing this, with all the versions, about 5,000,000,000 times a day (last night I counted).
6. He calls the Wiggles "Wee wee"
7. He calls Elmo "elmo" now, but it used to be "momo". Ernie is "Nee nee"
8. He learned the word "mess" when he was home alone with Keith, and "chest" when he was home alone with me. Coincidence? I think not.
9. He loves playing the game where he grabs my purse and pretends to leave. We say "Are you going on an adventure?" and he says "Byeeee" and we say "We will miss you! We love you!" and he goes into another room. Keith and I then say "Oh, we miss Owen so much!" and then he comes running out, smiling hugely, and gives us giant hugs and kisses. I think all three of us could play that game for hours.
I know there's lots more but that's it for now...
I'm not going to try to pretend that I'll be much better at this, but I do miss blogging so I hope I can somehow get back into at least once-a-week, if not more. I guess lately I've been too busy teaching my kid to say damnit and losing track of what my employees are up to to have much to write about on here.
One thing that has been bouncing around in my head lately is all the things that Owen does that I never, ever want to forget. So here's a small list:
1. He says "yesh" instead of "yes"
2. If he really wants something, and you ask him if he wants it, he goes, "YEAH!" and throws his hands in the air like his team just scored a goal. (See? A soccer reference, not a football reference. I've already gotten the lecture from Nonni about how disappointed she'd be if Owen played football).
3. He taps his finger on his chin and says "Hmmmm" when he's thinking something over.
4. He hums the first two notes of the Thomas the Tank Engine theme and then looks at us expectantly to finish it.
5. He is obsessed with our personalized version of "The Wheels on the Bus" - where Mamy (Amy) says "Where's my book", Taco says "I love clams", Charlie says "Let's play trucks", Reilly says "I love food", Mimi (Erin) says "Give me hugs", Nonni says "I love you", Unc says "Where's my Owen?", Titi (Sharon) says "You're so cute". I sing this, with all the versions, about 5,000,000,000 times a day (last night I counted).
6. He calls the Wiggles "Wee wee"
7. He calls Elmo "elmo" now, but it used to be "momo". Ernie is "Nee nee"
8. He learned the word "mess" when he was home alone with Keith, and "chest" when he was home alone with me. Coincidence? I think not.
9. He loves playing the game where he grabs my purse and pretends to leave. We say "Are you going on an adventure?" and he says "Byeeee" and we say "We will miss you! We love you!" and he goes into another room. Keith and I then say "Oh, we miss Owen so much!" and then he comes running out, smiling hugely, and gives us giant hugs and kisses. I think all three of us could play that game for hours.
I know there's lots more but that's it for now...
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