Dear Owen: 11 months

Dear Oboe,

You little stinker!  You steal my writing time by calling for me before I'm ready to go to bed so I'll have to make this short and sweet...

You are a joy.  So snuggly that I still don't mind you in our bed one bit.

We call you 'baby monster' and 'baby menace' because that's just what you are.  You love making a dash for the bathroom when you find the door open; you go for everything you're not supposed to have when you see it within reach; you follow Bobby around trying to steal all his toys.  You climb up the two stairs going up from our kitchen, and you can climb onto Bobby's bed; you love to get up there and get his blankie and suckie, but you don't really care for your own.  You can climb onto the couch when Bob takes a cushion off, which he likes to do; tonight you were over to the couch, up, and darting across for a glass of water on the end table you'd had your eye on -- within seconds of Bob pulling the cushion down.  Baby monster.

As much as you sometimes irritate him, Bobby loves you more than anything.  He tells me how cute you are, he tackles you with hugs, he brings you toys, he runs to you for comfort when he's mad at me or dad.  And you love him like crazy right back.  You grab his hair and pat his head and chase and copy him.  I have a feeling you two are about to become quite a dangerous duo.

You love to bounce in your 'johnny jump up' -- more often you run in circles like a madman.  It makes you really happy.  And it makes us really happy because it's hilarious.

You push the tricycle and scoot n zoom all over the house, on foot or on knee.

You love to take off as soon as I take off your diaper.

You're really funny with toys, particularly trucks and motorcycles and guys.  You seem to already know how to pretend with them.  Phones you put to your ear and repeat "dada!" like you've been talking on a cell all your life.  You've got quite a cute little baby babble going these days.

You poor thing -- you fight sleep so hard in the morning that you often fall asleep in your high chair at lunch.  Once I left you watching tv with bob while I sent a couple of emails and when I came back ten minutes later you were asleep on the floor.

You like to get all kinds of sounds going around here at once.  The other day you turned on the Christmas house music, then went into the playroom and turned on the keyboard and started up the demo, came back to the woofer guitar and started strumming away.  Sorry, bud.  Mama can't handle that.  I turned them all off.

I love you all times of day but one of my favorites is the morning.  You make the every best alarm clock because you are so darn happy when you wake up.  You just sit up next to me and grin.  You flap your arms and bounce your bum on the bed and pant like an excited little puppy.  Then when you really want me to wake up you pat my face and kiss my face and yell.  On weekdays dad's already off at work, but on weekends he too gets the royal awakening.  We love it.

There's so much more to say because you're becoming more YOU every day.

But for tonight, goodnight, my sweet little eleven month old.  You have made this year very, very special for all of us.

xoxo,

your mom.

Weekend update

Sorry for my absence of late...  There's not a whole lot to report and I've been just not feeling it.  Like, all I feel like doing right now is going to bed.  I miss my Gram for one thing.  I'm feeling guilty at my lack of keeping in touch with all of my other grandparents, that's another thing. I've got photography work but don't feel like doing it.  I don't have a single gift prepared for Christmas (except I did pick up a dog bone and dish from the dollar store this weekend for Bob).  Blah, blah-dee blah.

Last night my loving hubby garbage disposaled this tiny little green glass cup that was from Gram's.  My special cup that I don't let Bob use because I am so afraid it will break and I won't have it anymore.  The special tiny cup that I used for countless bedtime milk and graham cracker and peanut butter snacks, that I used for my "champagne" on New Year's Eve.  This tiny little piece of glass that, whenever I needed to feel those memories I could get 'er from the cabinet and fill 'er up and hold in my hand this connection to this person who means so so much to me.  And it broke.  I screamed and cried and just totally lost it.  I've been feeling so weepy about Gram lately anyway -- it's been just over a year since she passed and this holiday season just rubs it in, you know?  So I think the glass breaking may have let some things bubble to the surface?  I don't know.  Today I went to the cemetery and cried and cried and pet and fluffed the teddy bears in the basket my grandmother has lovingly attached to the stone.  So that's that.  I know things are just things but sometimes even things really hurt to lose.

...

So.  That was all from last week.  Here we are this week and part of me wants to just delete all of the above because I sound like a big baby.  I went to church on Sunday with a heart heavy for the families of the shooting victims.  I was a little surprised by Pastor Jeff's comments.  Basically:  It took no time at all for the human race to produce a murderer -- Cain, who killed his own brother -- so why are we surprised?  And: Everyone is horrified because the victims were children, yet no one cares about the unborn children murdered every day.  Interesting.  A little insensitive maybe, but also true, no?

anyway...

A weekend update blog post is definitely in order because we got to see all three cousins last weekend!

On Friday night we had Chloe.  Some magic bullet-ized peas of Owen's were in a little bowl on the table and Chloe said, "Oh, is this guacamole?"  Which made me laugh really hard because it did not look the least bit like guacamole -- it had a baby spoon still sitting in it for goodness sake!  But... my mom was about to come over, and I was just thinking of what to put together for a little snack for her, so we thought, haha!  Let's freshen up these peas with some salt, pepper and lemon juice and toss them in a cuter serving bowl next to some chips.  A wonderful harmless hilarious practical joke.  Except we were just finishing putting it together when my mother came in, and we hadn't yet harnessed the giggles.  So she kept saying, "What are you laughing about?" as she ate chip after chip with "guacamole" until finally she stopped and said, "This doesn't taste like guacamole, it tastes like peas!"  My poor mother was starving and thinks I have the strangest sense of humor.  Sorry, mom... it was all in fun.

Saturday was Bailey's birthday party.  She's four!

It was a princess bowling extravaganza.

Complete with rad shoes and a real princess.

Bailey had a blast with all her friends and masterfully cut up her own cake.

Mason and Bobby ate a lot of frosting.

Saturday night we swapped Chloe for Mason.  He slept in Bobby's room, on the floor next to the bed we moved in there for him.  Boy rolls out of bed within five minutes of being asleep.

And Sunday we walked out into the woods behind our house to find a Christmas tree.

Bob the goof walks right up to this beaver-chewed stump and starts pretending to saw it down.  "I found the perfect Twissmas twee.  Won't this look beautiful in our house?"

We went with this little guy below.  We're hoping to replant him at Gram's... Wouldn't it be cool to watch it grow year after year, and be able to show the kids, this was Owie's first Christmas tree?

A free sample of cuteness for you: my dear little midge hugging his beloved cousin.

And -- bonus! -- I even got new photos of my niece and nephew.  I don't see these faces nearly enough for my liking.  I miss them bad, and I worry about them.  I need you two back, and soon!



Sorry this post is close to being a novel.  That's what happens when I'm MIA for so long.

Six days to go.  We're excited around here.  Happy happy holidaying!

ache

I've been wanting to want to get here but just haven't quite felt like it lately.  Between yesterday and today I had something mostly written, but then I heard about the horrendous tragedy in connecticut and I'm speechless.  My pups are snug in their beds, and I am so thankful.  I told Ben tonight, "Sorry, but I'm homeschooling them."  Which is a bit of an overreaction I guess, and I know I can't protect them from everything forever, but... oh just the thought makes my gut rush to my throat.  My heart goes out to the aching families.