Dear Owen... four months.

For four months your little face has been a part of our lives.  And we like it.

I asked Bobby a few days ago, "Do you like having Owen in our family?"
"Yeah," he said.  He paused for a second and then, "He cries a lot."  Another pause.  "But I cry louder."

You had your four month well visit Wednesday.  Sixteen pounds, eight ounces; twenty six inches (I think -- not even quite sure -- I was a little distracted by big bro's antics).  You were such a sweetheart for your pediatrician, craning your neck and smiling at her and flailing your limbs all about while you lay on the crinkly paper.

On your four month birthday you tried a little cereal.  You didn't eat much -- just smushed it around with your tongue.

Your ticklishness demonstrates itself in laughs now.  Your chubby little chin is so delicious.  Your two bottom teeth are already in; your doctor said she's never seen teeth so early.

I sometimes call you little stinkpaw because you have the stinkiest little baby hands and feet I ever smelled.

You're a little puker.  You don't puke a ton, just pretty frequently, and just enough to get a little bit on every piece of clothing each of us is wearing.  Bob alerts me a dozen times a day: "Owen is pute-in a widdle bit."  Sometimes he helps out and cleans you up.

Now for some of my favorite photos of you at 3-4 months...

You love to look at your Daddy, but you don't often want him to hold you because you're such a needy little mama's boy.  Once in a while you two get in some cuddle time though...

Sometimes you make the goofiest faces.

We have lots of outside blanket time.

Here's your first time swinging at the park last week.  These pictures make you look like you're the same size as Bobby, which you practically are.

You love hanging with Bob, just being near him and checking out what he's doing.  If you and I are in the another room Bob will often call, "Can you say let's check out what Bobby is doing?"

One day we played "buddy pile on Owen" in Bobby's hideout.

You loved it.

Until... buddy attack!

No tears -- just a big pout.

You love your mama like crazy.



There are many times of day when you simply must be held by me; nothing else will do.

As long as you've got your mom in your sights, you're usually a happy little bugger.

I love you so so much, Owie Bowie.  More and more every single day.