celebrating two

Two years is such a quick, huge, wonderfully amazing slice of time.  Owen: this little person I just cannot get over because he is too loving and too hilarious.  I am starting to feel oh so pregnant now, and I've been thinking more about the birth that's coming, and remembering about when Owie was born.  I remember these crazy feelings I had... like, how will I ever love this little newborn as much as I love his brother?  His presence in our lives from the beginning was a magical delight, but also it was hard.  The boys were not on the same wavelength at all, and they both needed me always and I didn't feel I could be there one hundred percent of the time for each of them like I wished I could be, and it was easy to wonder, Is this right?

But two years later -- I learned it about 1.8 years ago, really -- those thoughts are foreign to me.  We are so lucky to have this boy in our lives.  Simply because he is who he is, but also because of what he gives to our family.  Pupper and Wooden are this beautiful dynamic team and they supply each other with a special brotherly love which adds up to be far greater than any amount of individual attention they may be missing out on from me.  I can feel littlest one wriggling about in my belly as I type, and I have no doubt that he or she will triple the love in this little log cabin.

And I wouldn't trade little Owen Clarke for anything in the world.

waking from birthday naptime...

followed by a little silly time...

We asked O what he wanted for his birthday and he stammered, "Um, um.... um..."  He hadn't anything in mind.  But when I asked if he wanted cake?  "Um, zes."  Ice cream?  "Zes."  Cake and ice cream?  "Zes!  I am having cake and ice cream!"  So that was all he cared about.  I let him choose his birthday supper and he went with oatmeal (just like Bob on his 3rd), so we loaded the lazy susan up nicely with bowls of strawberries, blueberries, bananas, walnuts, chicken sausage, apples, maple syrup, brown sugar, raisins, cinnamon, peanut butter... and we all feasted on personalized oatty goodness.

Also, we'd been on a play date at the bouncy house a couple of months ago and the pups were dying to return, so we decided to do it for Owie's birthday.  His newly two year old self was in heaven.

Sweet birthday gifts arrived in the mail before the big day and after, and on Sunday we had another little gathering; it was a fun week of celebration and treats.

{I totally failed as a photographer at both gatherings -- sorry!}

I'm excited for another year with this little joy.  And so darn happy to be his mama.

dear owen, at {almost} two

Dear Little Owie Bowie,

Today, you are TWO years old.  An awesome time of life, my friend.  You are so much fun these days.  You make me belly laugh every single one of them.

What a year it's been for you, little guy!  I was writing you a letter in the end of last year's journal and remembering the day I bought that book, last January 1st.  You were a little baby riding around in the Ergo, not quite walking, and not quite ready to ever leave my presence.  And now you're a little boy -- walking and talking, running and jumping, playing and pretending, brave and affectionate to all of your family, and pretty much everyone you meet.  You are a wonderfully funny and sweet person.  We are so lucky to have you as ours.  Bobby loves you so much -- he's constantly covering you with kisses and hugging and loving on you, and wanting you to play with him.  I'm pretty sure you are the main reason he quit preschool after trying it out this year; he just couldn't bear to be apart from you.  You usually follow him around like a slightly smaller shadow, copying everything he says and does.  You are the Luigi to his Mario, the Raphael to his Donatello, the Skywalker to his Leia.  It's a beautiful brotherhood you two share.

Dad and I are crazy about you, too.  You are a total sweetheart, always ready to dole out hugs and kisses.  My favorite: I say, "Where's my kiss? and you say, "Zight hee-ah," tapping your tiny index finger on your lips before you smack it on me.  Also: "Goodnight, Daddy-o," as Dad puts you in my lap on the rocking chair after saying goodnight.  Poor Dad you love, but you also love to attack; when you're Raphael you've constantly got to "Get that Shredder!" and when you're Skywalker it's "Whack Vader!" and of course, Dad has to be all the big bad guys.  "Zou ah bad duy, Vadeh!" you cry, bashing him with a section of pool noodle, your "lightsaver."  Dad is a good sport and plays along most of the time.

As much as you love your battling, you're a lover too.  You love snuggling and kissing and making me kiss all of your buddies and cute little guys you find.  You do a sweet little cutie voice when you pretend to talk as one of them.  You're a snuggler -- you still like to come into mom and dad's bed in the night sometimes.  You're often good until morning in your crib, but other nights you just want to lay between us.  You pull up the covers and whisper, "Dad is Sheddah; Mom is Zee-nahdo," and snuggle in to sleep.  We love it; you are just too precious to resist.  (Okay, Dad doesn't love it when you literally kick him out of the bed and he has to sleep on the couch.)

You are the best little helper,  always eager to clean up your toys or get me the dustpan or whatever I need.  I appreciate it so much, and hope you stay this way forever!

You love to draw and paint and you are obsessed with purple -- I don't think I've ever met a toddler who cares so much about a color.  Your second choice: green -- Luigi color.  So silly and strange and amazing you are.

You love to eat and some days you spend most of the morning having an extended breakfast.

Every morning you start the day with a banana; you run into the kitchen pretty much first thing when we get downstairs.  "Want your banana, Owie?"  "Zup!"

Love you SO much, Owen.

xo, mama.

post-christmas and happy new year!

I'm writing from the couch right now, laid up with a macaroni and cheese in a pickle bucket induced back injury.  Hearkens me back to the days when I first started blogging in our apartment in Beverly, sitting on the green couch in our living room just outside the door to little six month old Bobby's room, with Ben beside me playing nintendo or watching tv or reading.  We had our iMac set up on our giant coffee table in those days and those days are gone, because computers and coffee tables and toddlers don't mix (obviously).

The weather has fluctuated almost as much as my pregnant hurt lady emotions around here.  We had tons of snow, then it all melted in one night of rain, and now it's below zero and... why don't we live in California?  

After Christmas, we took a trip out to Tiny Gram and Grampa Sonny's.  Owen an hour past nap time was very content to sit on Pepere's lap dancing his new chicken on a piece of wood.

Two of my sweetsie cousins...

Bob and his beloved Savannah...

Doing holidays as a kid with divorced parents is not easy.  I remember having mixed emotions when I was young -- it was hard to leave all my new toys and mom and Gram's and home behind on Christmas day to travel with my dad to his parents' house, but also it was really special to have that second celebration and round of gifts and sleepover at the cutest house ever.  Looking back it's a really special memory, and I love to celebrate Christmas at Tiny Gram's nowadays with my guys.  I guess, holidays with divorced parents actually get a lot harder when you become an adult, because then it's your decision where to go when and how and with whom.  And your spouse's family gets thrown into the mix, too.  And you do your best to choose what's right for your own little family, but that can make you feel like you're choosing someone over another, or just not making the right choices, or make you worry about everyone else's feelings whether there is or isn't anything to worry about.  {Phew.  I'm couch-bound, so I guess I'm just letting loose how I can.}

One of the sweetest parts of family visits are the goodbye hugs and kisses...

Ben and I rang in the New Year with our classic blog/tv combo, a nice roaring fire, and fireworks over the mountain viewed from our (freezing) front porch.  Then we watched... something.  I don't even remember.  But I stayed up until 1am so... crazy night!

First bath of the year...

Glow stick party...

Bedtime stories in Bob's bed...

I heard Bob getting up to pee in the night and grabbed my camera quick.  I love his little sleepy face coming out of the bathroom, and I cannot believe how grown up this little boy is.

Sleeping and just waking up, sporting his Mario mustache.  I might start hiding the markers.

Now that Christmas is over, I finally got around to snapping some pics around the house...

One day this new year I finally unpacked a box hiding a stack of beloved books we haven't seen since the move.  The result?  A few hours of peaceful quiet reading time scattered throughout the day.  I totally recommend hiding some of your kids' favorite books for a few months so they can be rediscovered.

One last pic of little sleeping cutie fat lip -- one of many wounds suffered in the line of superhero duty...

And, PS -- random shout outs to great gifts...
Tiny Gram, those Friendly's lunch bags are huge favorites.  Owen strutting proudly with his bag of carefully selected guys and cars saying, "Zis is my bag.  My own, own bag.  I need zis bag..."  Priceless.
And number one this year, my hubbs totally did it right: a pair of the coziest socks ever, a gift certificate for a massage, a book I wanted, and this little gem: