I love Target. I really do. I enjoy it when I have to make trips there. Peter doesn't enjoy it when I have to make trips there because I spend money. But, alas, there are times when you have to.
So, Peter and I had to make a quick trip into Target a few weeks ago. When I go anywhere with the kids, I try to corral them in one cart so I am not chasing after anyone. We did that during our recent trip. The only problem is that Owen didn't want to be pushed in the cart; he wanted to walk. We told him that would be okay as long as he stayed with us. Of course, he didn't. He stopped to play with toys. He ran away. He climbed out of the cart when we put him back in. You get the picture.
After having enough of his mischief, I tell Peter I will take Owen to the car and he can check out with Vance and Elsa. Owen doesn't like this idea. The entire way to the car, while I am carrying him haphazardly, he is screaming "I WANT MY DADDY" and kicking me. It absolutely looked like I was kidnapping him. I can only imagine what the people who were walking into the store thought.
I get him to the car and put him down for a second so I can unlock the doors. He darts off into the parking lot trying to get back into the store, while screaming "I WANT MY DADDY". Luckily, there were no cars when he made his break. And, that Peter came out a minute later. And, most of all, I'm lucky no one decided to call the police. That probably would have ruined Target for me.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Owen's New Favorite Thing
I know I haven't posted in a while because Owen hasn't really done anything outlandish recently. Perhaps, he is maturing in his old age? Doubtful, I know. So, I figured I would post about Owen's new favorite activity.
I know it may be hard to believe, but Owen doesn't like to listen. In fact, I'd go so far as to say Owen's least favorite thing to do is listen to his parents or Grandma or anyone else that is an authority figure. So, when we are sitting at the dinner table and he's not eating, or feeding the dogs, or leaning back on his chair so it lands on the floor with a thud, or playing with toys at the table, or taunting his brother and sister, and we tell him he can either sit at the table or sit in his room, he chooses not to listen to us. He continues with whatever it is he is doing that is not eating his dinner. Then, either Peter or I will get up to move him to his room.
That's when he does his new favorite activity. He runs away from us screaming NO! Our living room has a circular path around our couch. Owen uses this to his advantage and makes us chase him around and around, all the while screaming NO. He doesn't say it. He doesn't even slightly yell it. He actually screams it, while he is running. Are you kidding me? And, of course, Peter and I chase him. It usually takes us two or three times around the couch before we catch him.
Can you imagine that scene? Owen has us, literally, running in circles. And, he is laughing and screaming NO. The worst part is that, at times, it is so ridiculous to me that I start laughing. This is probably the reason he keeps doing it. I just don't understand why he constantly has us on our toes. Will this ever change? And, when will that be?
I know it may be hard to believe, but Owen doesn't like to listen. In fact, I'd go so far as to say Owen's least favorite thing to do is listen to his parents or Grandma or anyone else that is an authority figure. So, when we are sitting at the dinner table and he's not eating, or feeding the dogs, or leaning back on his chair so it lands on the floor with a thud, or playing with toys at the table, or taunting his brother and sister, and we tell him he can either sit at the table or sit in his room, he chooses not to listen to us. He continues with whatever it is he is doing that is not eating his dinner. Then, either Peter or I will get up to move him to his room.
That's when he does his new favorite activity. He runs away from us screaming NO! Our living room has a circular path around our couch. Owen uses this to his advantage and makes us chase him around and around, all the while screaming NO. He doesn't say it. He doesn't even slightly yell it. He actually screams it, while he is running. Are you kidding me? And, of course, Peter and I chase him. It usually takes us two or three times around the couch before we catch him.
Can you imagine that scene? Owen has us, literally, running in circles. And, he is laughing and screaming NO. The worst part is that, at times, it is so ridiculous to me that I start laughing. This is probably the reason he keeps doing it. I just don't understand why he constantly has us on our toes. Will this ever change? And, when will that be?
Monday, October 31, 2011
Mischievous Monday
Well, really it was Friday, but I like the way Mischievous Monday sounds so I'm going to pretend this was a Monday.
So, last Monday, Peter, Owen, and I picked up pizza for dinner (Elsa and Vance were at Grandma Nancy's before anyone assumes we left them home with the dogs). While Peter was inside getting the pizza, Owen and I had the following conversation:
Me: Owen, were you a good boy for Daddy today?
Owen: (Silence)
Me: Owen, were you a good boy for daddy today?
Owen: Ummm, no
Me: You weren't a good boy for Daddy today?
Owen: Ummm, no
Me: What did you do that you weren't a good boy for Daddy today?
Owen: (Silence)
Me: Owen, why weren't you a good boy?
Owen: (Silence)
Now, at this point, I am amazed that Owen fessed up. To what I'm not exactly sure. But, usually he tells me he's been a good boy when he hasn't quite lived up to that. When Peter gets back in the car, I ask him if Owen acted up. Peter groans and then fills me in.
They went to the grocery store to get chocolate chips, among other things. The kids like putting the groceries on the conveyor belt. Peter didn't notice until after he was leaving that Owen stole the chocolate chips. They turned around and went back to the service counter. Owen was holding onto the chocolate chip bag pretty tight, but Peter managed to get it away from Owen, where it proceeded to drop chocolate chips all over the floor. Not only did Owen steal the chocolate chips, he opened them.
Peter cleaned up the mess and paid for our partial bag of chocolate chips. When they were walking out of the store again, Peter noticed Owen had his hands in fists at his side. Peter asked Owen to open his hands. No dice. Peter asked Owen if he had anything in his hands. His answer was no. Finally, Peter pried Owen's hands open and found two handfuls of chocolate chips. I am not sure if the chocolate was melted to add to the mess, but I'm sure it wasn't a super easy clean up.
As if that wasn't enough, Peter came home from his run later that day to find Owen and Elsa running back and forth in the back of the house with a bunch of bandaids. They found Grandma Nancy's bandaid stash and had a bandaid party on a sleeping Vance. I didn't realize bandaid parties were such fun, but now that I know, I must try it.
I am keeping my fingers crossed that Elsa's mischief in the bandaid party was a fluke and this doesn't turn into a future daughter and son in law blog.
So, last Monday, Peter, Owen, and I picked up pizza for dinner (Elsa and Vance were at Grandma Nancy's before anyone assumes we left them home with the dogs). While Peter was inside getting the pizza, Owen and I had the following conversation:
Me: Owen, were you a good boy for Daddy today?
Owen: (Silence)
Me: Owen, were you a good boy for daddy today?
Owen: Ummm, no
Me: You weren't a good boy for Daddy today?
Owen: Ummm, no
Me: What did you do that you weren't a good boy for Daddy today?
Owen: (Silence)
Me: Owen, why weren't you a good boy?
Owen: (Silence)
Now, at this point, I am amazed that Owen fessed up. To what I'm not exactly sure. But, usually he tells me he's been a good boy when he hasn't quite lived up to that. When Peter gets back in the car, I ask him if Owen acted up. Peter groans and then fills me in.
They went to the grocery store to get chocolate chips, among other things. The kids like putting the groceries on the conveyor belt. Peter didn't notice until after he was leaving that Owen stole the chocolate chips. They turned around and went back to the service counter. Owen was holding onto the chocolate chip bag pretty tight, but Peter managed to get it away from Owen, where it proceeded to drop chocolate chips all over the floor. Not only did Owen steal the chocolate chips, he opened them.
Peter cleaned up the mess and paid for our partial bag of chocolate chips. When they were walking out of the store again, Peter noticed Owen had his hands in fists at his side. Peter asked Owen to open his hands. No dice. Peter asked Owen if he had anything in his hands. His answer was no. Finally, Peter pried Owen's hands open and found two handfuls of chocolate chips. I am not sure if the chocolate was melted to add to the mess, but I'm sure it wasn't a super easy clean up.
As if that wasn't enough, Peter came home from his run later that day to find Owen and Elsa running back and forth in the back of the house with a bunch of bandaids. They found Grandma Nancy's bandaid stash and had a bandaid party on a sleeping Vance. I didn't realize bandaid parties were such fun, but now that I know, I must try it.
I am keeping my fingers crossed that Elsa's mischief in the bandaid party was a fluke and this doesn't turn into a future daughter and son in law blog.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Hide and Seek
I know it's been a while since I've posted. Owen has had a few funny stories, but most have to be told verbally. Writing them down would be a bad idea. Let me just say, he is very creative (building a wall of chairs, toy boxes, etc. to block me from coming up the stairs) when he wants to get into something he knows he shouldn't. He's also super quick, which is exactly what I would expect of him.
This story isn't funny, but it goes along with his personality so I figured I would share it anyway.
We went to the Tigers game for Star Wars day a week ago. I took Owen to the bathroom with Michelle and Max. Michelle comes out of the bathroom and says, "Where's Owen?" I turn around. Owen's gone. We leave the bathroom to try to find him. He's not outside. I go back in and check the stalls. He's not there. At the exact moment where I am really starting to lose it, Mike, Shanon, and Kate all come down coincidentally. I tell them I can't find Owen and we all begin searching.
It has been maybe five minutes since I've seen him last, but it felt like five days. I am going out of my mind with worry. We have split up and are searching everywhere. Just as Michelle is talking to security, a nice couple come down from their seats five sections away from ours and the woman is carrying Owen. Mike taps me on the shoulder and points to them. I run, crying, and take Owen out of the woman's arms. I am balling at this point, unable to catch my breath, only saying over and over again how thankful I am. I hear nothing else when Mike talks to them.
Luckily, Mike is with me and the couple tell him that Owen wandered up the stairs in their section and they figured out he was alone and were bringing him to Security. I wish I had enough clarity to tell them how much I appreciated their help. I didn't. I was balling my eyes out. We found Kate and Michelle before Security put out an alert. I was shaking, but was able to make it up the stairs to tell Peter what happened.
It was the scariest five minutes of my life. We lucked out and a nice couple found him. I know it could have been worse. Everyone who I tell this story to asks what Owen did, whether he said anything or was scared. Nope! He was quiet. I don't think he even realized he was lost. One of my coworkers said she's not a huge fan of parents who put leashes on their kids, but she thinks maybe it'd be a good idea if we did. I tend to agree.
P.S. So, I at least put a bit of funny in this post, I have a story about Vance. Vance started kindergarten two weeks ago. He met a friend, Grace, who he likes because she is pretty. He told Peter he wanted Grace to come to our house to play. Peter said to ask me. Then, Vance said she could stay the night ... she'd sleep in his bed. Peter mumbled something about girls and boys sleeping in separate rooms and then dropped it. Perhaps Owen isn't my only worry???
This story isn't funny, but it goes along with his personality so I figured I would share it anyway.
We went to the Tigers game for Star Wars day a week ago. I took Owen to the bathroom with Michelle and Max. Michelle comes out of the bathroom and says, "Where's Owen?" I turn around. Owen's gone. We leave the bathroom to try to find him. He's not outside. I go back in and check the stalls. He's not there. At the exact moment where I am really starting to lose it, Mike, Shanon, and Kate all come down coincidentally. I tell them I can't find Owen and we all begin searching.
It has been maybe five minutes since I've seen him last, but it felt like five days. I am going out of my mind with worry. We have split up and are searching everywhere. Just as Michelle is talking to security, a nice couple come down from their seats five sections away from ours and the woman is carrying Owen. Mike taps me on the shoulder and points to them. I run, crying, and take Owen out of the woman's arms. I am balling at this point, unable to catch my breath, only saying over and over again how thankful I am. I hear nothing else when Mike talks to them.
Luckily, Mike is with me and the couple tell him that Owen wandered up the stairs in their section and they figured out he was alone and were bringing him to Security. I wish I had enough clarity to tell them how much I appreciated their help. I didn't. I was balling my eyes out. We found Kate and Michelle before Security put out an alert. I was shaking, but was able to make it up the stairs to tell Peter what happened.
It was the scariest five minutes of my life. We lucked out and a nice couple found him. I know it could have been worse. Everyone who I tell this story to asks what Owen did, whether he said anything or was scared. Nope! He was quiet. I don't think he even realized he was lost. One of my coworkers said she's not a huge fan of parents who put leashes on their kids, but she thinks maybe it'd be a good idea if we did. I tend to agree.
P.S. So, I at least put a bit of funny in this post, I have a story about Vance. Vance started kindergarten two weeks ago. He met a friend, Grace, who he likes because she is pretty. He told Peter he wanted Grace to come to our house to play. Peter said to ask me. Then, Vance said she could stay the night ... she'd sleep in his bed. Peter mumbled something about girls and boys sleeping in separate rooms and then dropped it. Perhaps Owen isn't my only worry???
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Candy Bar Joyride Was a Premonition???
I guess when Owen decides to take a short hiatus from trouble, it's because he's been storing up for something really good. I am still in shock from the story Peter just told me. Luckily, Owen didn't think everything through.
Peter was downstairs balancing our checkbook when Vance came to him and said Owen and Elsa were in the car. Peter said that was impossible because the car doors were locked. Vance assured Peter that he wasn't make it up. Peter goes upstairs and one of the bar stools is pushed to the wall that holds all of our keys.
In the garage, there are Owen and Elsa sitting in the car. This means two things for Owen. One, he knew which keys to grab (Explorer not Focus). Maybe it was just luck. And, two, he knew which button to unlock the doors. I imagine Peter would have heard the horn blaring if Owen used the wrong button.
So, Peter tells them to get out. What does Owen do? He starts the car. Are you fricking kidding me???? I almost had a heart attack at this point in the story because, even though I was talking to Peter and knew he got them out without any kind of incident, I imagined maybe Owen slipped it into reverse and backed out of the garage a bit. Or worse, put it in drive and went through the garage wall.
No, luckily, Owen didn't think everything through and forgot to shut the door. I know, right? Rookie mistake. Peter turned off the car, grabbed the kids, locked the doors, and, I imagine, hid the keys.
Owen is three years old. He knows how to start a car. This isn't funny anymore, is it? I should be worried :(
Peter was downstairs balancing our checkbook when Vance came to him and said Owen and Elsa were in the car. Peter said that was impossible because the car doors were locked. Vance assured Peter that he wasn't make it up. Peter goes upstairs and one of the bar stools is pushed to the wall that holds all of our keys.
In the garage, there are Owen and Elsa sitting in the car. This means two things for Owen. One, he knew which keys to grab (Explorer not Focus). Maybe it was just luck. And, two, he knew which button to unlock the doors. I imagine Peter would have heard the horn blaring if Owen used the wrong button.
So, Peter tells them to get out. What does Owen do? He starts the car. Are you fricking kidding me???? I almost had a heart attack at this point in the story because, even though I was talking to Peter and knew he got them out without any kind of incident, I imagined maybe Owen slipped it into reverse and backed out of the garage a bit. Or worse, put it in drive and went through the garage wall.
No, luckily, Owen didn't think everything through and forgot to shut the door. I know, right? Rookie mistake. Peter turned off the car, grabbed the kids, locked the doors, and, I imagine, hid the keys.
Owen is three years old. He knows how to start a car. This isn't funny anymore, is it? I should be worried :(
The Hose ... Again
Owen has been mostly quiet as of late. Sure, he has randomly gone to the bathroom outside and asked if I was drinking a whole glass of tequila (it was wine). But, nothing big enough to blog about. I guess there was one thing, but we're keeping that on the DL because it's not a funny story, but a scary one.
So, Owen has been quiet. Has he turned a corner? Does he realize he is three now and should start acting his age not his shoe size? Wait, his shoe size is a nine so I guess that doesn't make sense for him right now.
Anyway, we have had our windows open the last few days because it hasn't been 95 degrees AND our energy bill was ridiculous for the month if July. Thanks a lot, heat! I was not home to witness this, but I felt the after effects a few hours later. Elsa was in her room doing whatever she does (plays with her jewelry, barbies, hair ties, etc.). Owen was outside doing what he does (going to the bathroom, picking unripe strawberries and tomatoes, turning on the hose, etc.). Apparently, Owen saw Elsa in her room and decided to play a little prank on his sister. Does he know what a prank is? I doubt it. Maybe he was just being mean because he thought it was funny.
What did Owen do? He started spraying the hose through Elsa's open bedroom window and soaked Elsa and her entire floor. Peter came in and yelled for him to stop. Of course, Owen doesn't listen to anyone he doesn't want to listen to. So, he didn't. Peter ran out of the house, jumped over the railing of the deck, and, just when he was about to grab the hose, Owen realized he should stop. He dropped the hose and ran.
Elsa's carpet was still wet when I got home a few hours later. I didn't think twice about it when I noticed it. I mean, they're kids, they probably spilled some water or something. But then, Peter told me the story and I realized this was Owen's doing. Awesome.
So, Owen has been quiet. Has he turned a corner? Does he realize he is three now and should start acting his age not his shoe size? Wait, his shoe size is a nine so I guess that doesn't make sense for him right now.
Anyway, we have had our windows open the last few days because it hasn't been 95 degrees AND our energy bill was ridiculous for the month if July. Thanks a lot, heat! I was not home to witness this, but I felt the after effects a few hours later. Elsa was in her room doing whatever she does (plays with her jewelry, barbies, hair ties, etc.). Owen was outside doing what he does (going to the bathroom, picking unripe strawberries and tomatoes, turning on the hose, etc.). Apparently, Owen saw Elsa in her room and decided to play a little prank on his sister. Does he know what a prank is? I doubt it. Maybe he was just being mean because he thought it was funny.
What did Owen do? He started spraying the hose through Elsa's open bedroom window and soaked Elsa and her entire floor. Peter came in and yelled for him to stop. Of course, Owen doesn't listen to anyone he doesn't want to listen to. So, he didn't. Peter ran out of the house, jumped over the railing of the deck, and, just when he was about to grab the hose, Owen realized he should stop. He dropped the hose and ran.
Elsa's carpet was still wet when I got home a few hours later. I didn't think twice about it when I noticed it. I mean, they're kids, they probably spilled some water or something. But then, Peter told me the story and I realized this was Owen's doing. Awesome.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
I Saw My Future ...
... and I'm scared.
First of all, Owen is definitely rubbing off on Vance (not in a good way). Not only has Owen taught Vance to use the backyard as his own personal potty. But, Vance opened his bedroom window the other day and shouted to our neighbors, who were swimming in their pool, "We have a gun in our house." WHAT?????????? I almost died when I heard him yell this. We do NOT have a gun in our house. We do not TALK about guns in our house. There are no shooting video games. We do not even have toy guns that the kids play with (usually). The only thing I can think of is that they were playing with water guns earlier in the day that Grandma brought over. But, why the need to share with our neighbors? I have no clue. I am mortified. That comment would definitely be grounds for CPS to be called in if it was true. I pray the neighbors did not hear him.
So, on my drive in to work today, I heard a story on the radio about a five year old boy from Texas who stole the family minivan to drive to the store to buy a candy bar. The first thing that scared me about this story was the determination in the child to get the candy bar. This is the same determination I have witnessed over and over in Owen. When he wants something, he will not stop until he gets it. And, Owen LOVES candy (like his mom, I blame myself). The second part of the story that made me go white was when the mom described her son as a "little daredevil". Awww hell, I'm in trouble. This will be Owen in two years. I just know it. We need to hide our car keys, I think.
Over the last week, Owen has:
1) Decided to use the air vent as his personal potty.
2) Decided to use Elsa's foot stool as his personal potty.
3) Decided to use his dump truck as his personal potty (notice a theme here?).
4) Pulled the rear view mirror off the Explorer. I have no idea how he did this because they glue those things on TIGHT.
5) Spent just as much time cuddling and loving us.
It's extremely hard to stay upset with a child as lovable as Owen. But, I would appreciate if he kept his bathroom habits limited to the bathroom.
First of all, Owen is definitely rubbing off on Vance (not in a good way). Not only has Owen taught Vance to use the backyard as his own personal potty. But, Vance opened his bedroom window the other day and shouted to our neighbors, who were swimming in their pool, "We have a gun in our house." WHAT?????????? I almost died when I heard him yell this. We do NOT have a gun in our house. We do not TALK about guns in our house. There are no shooting video games. We do not even have toy guns that the kids play with (usually). The only thing I can think of is that they were playing with water guns earlier in the day that Grandma brought over. But, why the need to share with our neighbors? I have no clue. I am mortified. That comment would definitely be grounds for CPS to be called in if it was true. I pray the neighbors did not hear him.
So, on my drive in to work today, I heard a story on the radio about a five year old boy from Texas who stole the family minivan to drive to the store to buy a candy bar. The first thing that scared me about this story was the determination in the child to get the candy bar. This is the same determination I have witnessed over and over in Owen. When he wants something, he will not stop until he gets it. And, Owen LOVES candy (like his mom, I blame myself). The second part of the story that made me go white was when the mom described her son as a "little daredevil". Awww hell, I'm in trouble. This will be Owen in two years. I just know it. We need to hide our car keys, I think.
Over the last week, Owen has:
1) Decided to use the air vent as his personal potty.
2) Decided to use Elsa's foot stool as his personal potty.
3) Decided to use his dump truck as his personal potty (notice a theme here?).
4) Pulled the rear view mirror off the Explorer. I have no idea how he did this because they glue those things on TIGHT.
5) Spent just as much time cuddling and loving us.
It's extremely hard to stay upset with a child as lovable as Owen. But, I would appreciate if he kept his bathroom habits limited to the bathroom.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Lock Picker
The wheels that turn in Owen's head never cease to amaze me. Peter painted the kids room last week because they were badly in need. Vance and Owen's room had marker and pencil drawings all over the walls. No, they are not allowed to write on their walls. And, no, we do not let them go to sleep with markers or pencils. These drawings happened because "someone" hid writing utensils in their room somewhere and then drew when we weren't aware. I'll give you one guess who "someone" is ...
Anyway, Peter painted their room. To do this, he took the trim off. This is much easier and cleaner than taping. We put their rooms back together on Saturday, e.g. hung up pictures, vacuumed the floors, etc. Apparently, we did not do a great job.
Owen has not been staying in his room at bed time. He will go to our room and turn on the tv, go into Elsa's room and play with her doll house, or get into the fridge if Peter and I are sitting on the deck when they are in bed. So, last night, we locked the door to Owen and Vance's room. A few minutes later, I hear Vance yell that Owen is doing something that he isn't supposed to be doing. Great!
I go in there and Owen immediatly runs to his bed and lays face down with his arms under him. Vance told me Owen was trying to pick the lock. He's done this before so it didn't surprise me. I tried to see what was in Owen's hands and he wouldn't let me. When I asked him what was in his hand, he told me it was gum. Okay, first of all, that was a lie. He is three years old and is already lying like a champ. Second, I think he knew enough to say gum because I usually don't fight him when he takes gum when he's not supposed to have it. So, he probably figured if he told me gum, I'd leave him alone. Wrong. I finagled his hand open and there was a small metal nail used to put the trim back up on the walls. Luckily, he did not hurt himself.
Where does he come up with these things? Should I be proud of how smart he is and how he will do whatever he sets his mind to? Or, should I be worried that he will use these skills for evil when he hits his teenage years? Probably both.
Anyway, Peter painted their room. To do this, he took the trim off. This is much easier and cleaner than taping. We put their rooms back together on Saturday, e.g. hung up pictures, vacuumed the floors, etc. Apparently, we did not do a great job.
Owen has not been staying in his room at bed time. He will go to our room and turn on the tv, go into Elsa's room and play with her doll house, or get into the fridge if Peter and I are sitting on the deck when they are in bed. So, last night, we locked the door to Owen and Vance's room. A few minutes later, I hear Vance yell that Owen is doing something that he isn't supposed to be doing. Great!
I go in there and Owen immediatly runs to his bed and lays face down with his arms under him. Vance told me Owen was trying to pick the lock. He's done this before so it didn't surprise me. I tried to see what was in Owen's hands and he wouldn't let me. When I asked him what was in his hand, he told me it was gum. Okay, first of all, that was a lie. He is three years old and is already lying like a champ. Second, I think he knew enough to say gum because I usually don't fight him when he takes gum when he's not supposed to have it. So, he probably figured if he told me gum, I'd leave him alone. Wrong. I finagled his hand open and there was a small metal nail used to put the trim back up on the walls. Luckily, he did not hurt himself.
Where does he come up with these things? Should I be proud of how smart he is and how he will do whatever he sets his mind to? Or, should I be worried that he will use these skills for evil when he hits his teenage years? Probably both.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Bubba Licious
It's been a while because Owen has been mostly good. Not as much mischief as usual. At least, not enough to write a blog post about it.
Last night, Peter went golfing with Mike. The kids and I played baseball, had some dinner, took baths (them, not me, I don't take baths with them), and watched a little Nick Jr. before bed. I told Peter when he got home that they were really, really good. I couldn't complain about their behavior, surprisingly enough.
So, Peter gets home and I am busy looking up Mob stuff on Wikipedia because, of course, I DVR'ed Mob Wives and wanted to know the background. Yes, I know it's trash and, actually, morally wrong to support such a show. Hence, my FB about people being embarrassed by my DVR recordings. Anyway, Peter walks down the hall to go to our room and encounters Owen in the bathroom. I didn't even realize he was in there. All I hear from Peter is, "Owen, what are you doing? What's in your hair? Is that GUM??"
Yep, sure enough, it is. Somehow, Mr. Owen Michael Paul found gum (Vance said he got it out of the trash, which makes this story that much worse). So, Owen found gum. Owen chewed the gum. And then, Owen decided to wear the gum as a bandana around his head like Chuck Norris. Does Chuck Norris wear bandanas? I'm almost positive he does. So, he had gum stuck all around his head like Chuck Norris' bandana.
Of course, I do what every mother would in a situation like this ... I grab the camera. After taking a few pictures for the blog and his high school graduation party poster boards, I attempted to get the gum out. Unfortunately, he did a really good job "tightening" his bandana and the gum would NOT come out. So, I grabbed some scissors and cut it out (Peter tried to convince me we should use peanut butter, but that seemed really messy for 10:00 at night).
Today, Peter buzzed his head (Owen's, not Peter's. Peter is smarter than to put gum in his hair ... I think) and now the patches of missing gum hair aren't too prominent. Is it ironic that Owen cut Elsa's hair only two weeks ago and now Owen had to have his haircut today? It would have been sweet justice if we had handed those scissors over to Elsa, wouldn't it?
Last night, Peter went golfing with Mike. The kids and I played baseball, had some dinner, took baths (them, not me, I don't take baths with them), and watched a little Nick Jr. before bed. I told Peter when he got home that they were really, really good. I couldn't complain about their behavior, surprisingly enough.
So, Peter gets home and I am busy looking up Mob stuff on Wikipedia because, of course, I DVR'ed Mob Wives and wanted to know the background. Yes, I know it's trash and, actually, morally wrong to support such a show. Hence, my FB about people being embarrassed by my DVR recordings. Anyway, Peter walks down the hall to go to our room and encounters Owen in the bathroom. I didn't even realize he was in there. All I hear from Peter is, "Owen, what are you doing? What's in your hair? Is that GUM??"
Yep, sure enough, it is. Somehow, Mr. Owen Michael Paul found gum (Vance said he got it out of the trash, which makes this story that much worse). So, Owen found gum. Owen chewed the gum. And then, Owen decided to wear the gum as a bandana around his head like Chuck Norris. Does Chuck Norris wear bandanas? I'm almost positive he does. So, he had gum stuck all around his head like Chuck Norris' bandana.
Of course, I do what every mother would in a situation like this ... I grab the camera. After taking a few pictures for the blog and his high school graduation party poster boards, I attempted to get the gum out. Unfortunately, he did a really good job "tightening" his bandana and the gum would NOT come out. So, I grabbed some scissors and cut it out (Peter tried to convince me we should use peanut butter, but that seemed really messy for 10:00 at night).
Today, Peter buzzed his head (Owen's, not Peter's. Peter is smarter than to put gum in his hair ... I think) and now the patches of missing gum hair aren't too prominent. Is it ironic that Owen cut Elsa's hair only two weeks ago and now Owen had to have his haircut today? It would have been sweet justice if we had handed those scissors over to Elsa, wouldn't it?
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Lots of Small Owen Stories
Unfortunately, I do not have one really good story to share about Owen today. But, I do have a bunch of small ones that may get a few laughs.
Yesterday, Peter took the kids to visit Keegan and Ronan. Not enough time was spent in the backyard Disneyland on Saturday. I was working, but I get a FB post from Kristin that reads "
Yesterday, Peter took the kids to visit Keegan and Ronan. Not enough time was spent in the backyard Disneyland on Saturday. I was working, but I get a FB post from Kristin that reads "
Monday, June 27, 2011
Mmm ... candy
We went to Keegan and Ronan's birthday party this weekend. It was a lot of fun and I'll give the kids credit for behaving themselves as well as they could. Not too many fights, except when we were leaving and they all wanted to eat candy in the car in addition to the chocolate they were eating before we left. Is it bad parenting that I let them because I didn't want to fight? Yeah, I kinda figured it was. But, I did it anyway.
The kids all scored a tremendous amount of candy from the pinata and had cool Cars goodie bags to carry it home. When we got home, I immediately put the candy in the cupboard and locked it. Owen knows how to get the locks off, but I was hoping it would be tight enough that it would take some maneuvering from Owen and I would safely be able to use the restroom. Do you notice a theme here? Owen has perfected his missions to be accomplished within the two minutes it takes to use the restroom.
So, I come out two minutes later. Not only has Owen taken all of the candy out of the cupboard and laid it on the counter (better to choose what he wanted?), but he was kind enough to make sure both Vance and Elsa got their fill as well. At least he's sharing, right?
I really hope this kid grows up to be in the CIA. I'd love it if he could use his talents for good. In our last doctor's office visit, the questionaire asked if Owen would use a stool or chair to get something he wanted, but couldn't reach. Peter laughed. If only they knew what Owen was capable of.
The kids all scored a tremendous amount of candy from the pinata and had cool Cars goodie bags to carry it home. When we got home, I immediately put the candy in the cupboard and locked it. Owen knows how to get the locks off, but I was hoping it would be tight enough that it would take some maneuvering from Owen and I would safely be able to use the restroom. Do you notice a theme here? Owen has perfected his missions to be accomplished within the two minutes it takes to use the restroom.
So, I come out two minutes later. Not only has Owen taken all of the candy out of the cupboard and laid it on the counter (better to choose what he wanted?), but he was kind enough to make sure both Vance and Elsa got their fill as well. At least he's sharing, right?
I really hope this kid grows up to be in the CIA. I'd love it if he could use his talents for good. In our last doctor's office visit, the questionaire asked if Owen would use a stool or chair to get something he wanted, but couldn't reach. Peter laughed. If only they knew what Owen was capable of.
Monday, June 20, 2011
A Conversation Between Owen and Elsa
This is how I imagine the conversation between Owen and Elsa went today:
Elsa: No, Owen, what?
Owen: If I cut your hair like Dad cuts our hair.
Elsa: I don't know Owen. Have you had any experience in hair cutting before?
Owen: Sure, I have. I am what one would call a connoisseur in the hair cutting department.
Elsa: Okay, I guess so. You don't think Mom or Dad would mind?
Owen: Of course not! Mom and Dad are cool. They know what's what.
Elsa: Okay, Owen, I trust you. Where do you want to cut my hair?
Owen: Umm, how about we go outside so Dad isn't around? I mean, let's go outside so we don't make a mess. You know how I feel about making a mess.
Elsa: Owen, everything I know about you says you like making messes, but you are my brother and I know you would never do anything bad to me.
Owen: Of course not, Elsa!
And, that is how I imagine Owen tricked Elsa into letting him cut her hair. Because I know my Elsa is too smart to do that unless she was tricked. Luckily for Elsa, Owen wasn't wrong when he said he was skilled in the hair cutting department because the end result wasn't too bad. Elsa has a few layers and some new bangs, but, overall, nothing that can't be fixed (or hidden with a few well placed barettes and pony tails).
Who knows? Perhaps Owen will one day become a hair dresser and this event will be what triggered his career.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Cookie Monster
It is amazing how much good stuff Owen gives me to share with family and friends. Like, literally, every day.
So, I am still on my "no losing my temper, only rewarding good behavior" kick. I mean, it sort of worked Monday night, right?
Last night, I bought cookie dough from Schwan's and told the kids I would make cookies after dinner. Dinner came and went and while I was getting the cookie dough in the oven, Owen asked for candy. We have left over candy from the Memorial Day parade and the kids have had some as dessert if they've done a good job eating their dinner over the past two weeks. I told Owen he could have candy, or he could wait ten minutes and have a big, way bigger than candy, delicious fresh out of the oven, cookie. He chose candy. I really, really tried to get him to hold out, but he wasn't having it. Elsa was on Owen's side, she wanted candy. Vance was my man, and held out for the cookie.
I passed out the candy to Owen and Elsa and reminded them that they would get NO cookies when they were done and do not even ask for one because the answer will be no. So, the cookies finish baking and guess what. No really, guess. Surprising as it is, Owen wanted a cookie. I told him no, he had candy and he knew he wouldn't get a cookie. I started the bath for Owen and Elsa so that Vance and I could eat our fresh out of the oven cookies in peace. Elsa, being the good girl that she is, got right into the tub and didn't even ask for a cookie. Owen, on the other hand, was begging for cookies, even trying to steal Vance's. Yes, he does this ALL of the time. Usually, he gets whatever it is Vance has, too. But, this time, Vance kept a better handle on his cookie and Owen didn't get it.
Finally, Vance finishes his cookie and I get all three of them into the bathtub. I push the cooling rack of cookies to the back of the counter, lest any hands or dogs try to get them. Baths go smoothly, believe it or not, there was very little fighting over who gets to sit under the tap and I don't think I heard any cries, but I had just taken cold medicine so there's a good chance my buzz made me not hear anything.
I get the kids out of the tub. I put the boys in their room to get dressed, telling Owen I will be in there in a minute to help him with his diaper (we ran out of pull ups so he has been wearing diapers all week, which has been a horrible mistake because he LOVES wearing diapers). In the meantime, I go to help Elsa get dressed. She's three years old and does a great job, but for some reason, she never puts her underpants on the right way. Plus, we need to brush her hair to avoid any knots later on.
After helping Elsa, it took maybe two minutes, I go into Owen's room. He's gone. I have had this kid for three years now, I should know better, right? So, I go down the hall into the kitchen and what do I find? A completely naked Owen standing in the middle of the kitchen eating a chocolate chip cookie. He is so proud of himself, too. But, I do not yell. Nope, I let him finish his cookie, wipe up the chocolate from his face, and take him to his room to get his diaper on and get him in his pajamas.
What Owen wants, Owen gets. Seriously. No one stands in his way.
So, I am still on my "no losing my temper, only rewarding good behavior" kick. I mean, it sort of worked Monday night, right?
Last night, I bought cookie dough from Schwan's and told the kids I would make cookies after dinner. Dinner came and went and while I was getting the cookie dough in the oven, Owen asked for candy. We have left over candy from the Memorial Day parade and the kids have had some as dessert if they've done a good job eating their dinner over the past two weeks. I told Owen he could have candy, or he could wait ten minutes and have a big, way bigger than candy, delicious fresh out of the oven, cookie. He chose candy. I really, really tried to get him to hold out, but he wasn't having it. Elsa was on Owen's side, she wanted candy. Vance was my man, and held out for the cookie.
I passed out the candy to Owen and Elsa and reminded them that they would get NO cookies when they were done and do not even ask for one because the answer will be no. So, the cookies finish baking and guess what. No really, guess. Surprising as it is, Owen wanted a cookie. I told him no, he had candy and he knew he wouldn't get a cookie. I started the bath for Owen and Elsa so that Vance and I could eat our fresh out of the oven cookies in peace. Elsa, being the good girl that she is, got right into the tub and didn't even ask for a cookie. Owen, on the other hand, was begging for cookies, even trying to steal Vance's. Yes, he does this ALL of the time. Usually, he gets whatever it is Vance has, too. But, this time, Vance kept a better handle on his cookie and Owen didn't get it.
Finally, Vance finishes his cookie and I get all three of them into the bathtub. I push the cooling rack of cookies to the back of the counter, lest any hands or dogs try to get them. Baths go smoothly, believe it or not, there was very little fighting over who gets to sit under the tap and I don't think I heard any cries, but I had just taken cold medicine so there's a good chance my buzz made me not hear anything.
I get the kids out of the tub. I put the boys in their room to get dressed, telling Owen I will be in there in a minute to help him with his diaper (we ran out of pull ups so he has been wearing diapers all week, which has been a horrible mistake because he LOVES wearing diapers). In the meantime, I go to help Elsa get dressed. She's three years old and does a great job, but for some reason, she never puts her underpants on the right way. Plus, we need to brush her hair to avoid any knots later on.
After helping Elsa, it took maybe two minutes, I go into Owen's room. He's gone. I have had this kid for three years now, I should know better, right? So, I go down the hall into the kitchen and what do I find? A completely naked Owen standing in the middle of the kitchen eating a chocolate chip cookie. He is so proud of himself, too. But, I do not yell. Nope, I let him finish his cookie, wipe up the chocolate from his face, and take him to his room to get his diaper on and get him in his pajamas.
What Owen wants, Owen gets. Seriously. No one stands in his way.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Poison Control (the 1st and 2nd time)
The first time we had to call Poison Control for Owen was in the summer of 2009. He ate the fiberglass out of the fireplace in the basement. Perhaps he thought it looked like cotton candy, I know I think it does. Or, maybe he was just being curious. Either way, Peter was on the phone with Poison Control and the doctor's office for the better part of the day while I waited impatiently at work to find out if Owen was okay. When all was said and done, we determined that Owen just chewed on the fiberglass a bit and didn't actually ingest any of it. Poison Control sent us a nice package in the mail a few days later with magnets showing the Poison Control phone number and a list of common household items that are poisonous.
The second time we had to call Poison Control was much more chaotic. A cell tower by our house had gone down the day before so our cell service was shotty at best. Texting was all that would go through. This would be a good add for a landline provider. I get a text from Peter, while I am at work, asking me to call Poison Control because Owen got the childproof lock off his Fluoride and drank the contents. What??? I call Poison Control with very little information, e.g. I have no idea what the dosage of Fluoride was, how much he ingested, how much he weighs, etc. Finally, the nice lady tells me to get a hold of Peter, ask him the questions she asked me and to call her back.
After much back and forth texting between Peter and me, I get the dosage from the pharmacy and call Posion Control back. Luckily, Owen did not ingest enough to poison him. But, he would have a pretty good stomach ache for the rest of the day. The woman I was speaking with said to give him plenty of calcium (did you know calcium counteracts fluoride? well, now you do) and keep an eye on him. If he started throwing up or looking lethargic, we needed to take him to the ER.
I thanked the woman profusely, especially for her patience while I tried texting Peter to get answers to her questions. And, she asked me if I would like her to send me a copy of the Poison Control materials (magnets, lists, etc.). I told her, unfortunately, we already received that package.
The second time we had to call Poison Control was much more chaotic. A cell tower by our house had gone down the day before so our cell service was shotty at best. Texting was all that would go through. This would be a good add for a landline provider. I get a text from Peter, while I am at work, asking me to call Poison Control because Owen got the childproof lock off his Fluoride and drank the contents. What??? I call Poison Control with very little information, e.g. I have no idea what the dosage of Fluoride was, how much he ingested, how much he weighs, etc. Finally, the nice lady tells me to get a hold of Peter, ask him the questions she asked me and to call her back.
After much back and forth texting between Peter and me, I get the dosage from the pharmacy and call Posion Control back. Luckily, Owen did not ingest enough to poison him. But, he would have a pretty good stomach ache for the rest of the day. The woman I was speaking with said to give him plenty of calcium (did you know calcium counteracts fluoride? well, now you do) and keep an eye on him. If he started throwing up or looking lethargic, we needed to take him to the ER.
I thanked the woman profusely, especially for her patience while I tried texting Peter to get answers to her questions. And, she asked me if I would like her to send me a copy of the Poison Control materials (magnets, lists, etc.). I told her, unfortunately, we already received that package.
Owen LOVES Nail Polish
We took Owen and Elsa for their 3 year check up yesterday. We told the doctor that Owen is quite a handful. Not malicious, by any means, but definitely curious and he doesn't care about consequences. She suggested we try positive reinforcement. Try our best to ignore the trouble he causes and, instead, reward him when he is good. He gets the attention he craves, but it is for being good, not Owen.
So, after the doctor's appointment, we came home and had dinner. After dinner and baths, Peter was reading to Vance and Elsa before bed. I was off uploading pictures and came upstairs to find Owen missing. I walk down the hall towards the bedrooms and I smell nail polish. Yes, I can smell the nail polish, even though I have a terrible cold. That is how blatant the smell is.
I find Owen in our bathroom and his legs and feet are covered in three different color nail polishes. Gold, pink, and purple. The kid has taste, I'll give him that, because he went for the Chanel nail polish first. Anyway, I remember what the doctor said and I did not yell or lose my temper, at all. Instead, I asked him where he put the nail polish on (worried that it was all over the floor somewhere, too) and quickly cleaned him up. Oh, he was also rubbing Peter's brand new face lotion all over his legs when I found him. So, that's kind of awesome, too.
After I cleaned him up, I brought him into the living room to read books before bed. He read books with us and went to bed without a problem. I made sure to tell him how much I loved him and how proud of him I was that he was being so good that night. Who knows? Maybe these Owen stories will diminish with my new outlook on rewarding him.
So, after the doctor's appointment, we came home and had dinner. After dinner and baths, Peter was reading to Vance and Elsa before bed. I was off uploading pictures and came upstairs to find Owen missing. I walk down the hall towards the bedrooms and I smell nail polish. Yes, I can smell the nail polish, even though I have a terrible cold. That is how blatant the smell is.
I find Owen in our bathroom and his legs and feet are covered in three different color nail polishes. Gold, pink, and purple. The kid has taste, I'll give him that, because he went for the Chanel nail polish first. Anyway, I remember what the doctor said and I did not yell or lose my temper, at all. Instead, I asked him where he put the nail polish on (worried that it was all over the floor somewhere, too) and quickly cleaned him up. Oh, he was also rubbing Peter's brand new face lotion all over his legs when I found him. So, that's kind of awesome, too.
After I cleaned him up, I brought him into the living room to read books before bed. He read books with us and went to bed without a problem. I made sure to tell him how much I loved him and how proud of him I was that he was being so good that night. Who knows? Maybe these Owen stories will diminish with my new outlook on rewarding him.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Fool Me Once, Shame on You, Fool Me Twice, Shame on Me
Owen locked me out of the house yesterday ... twice.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Hosed Down
The weather was crazy hot yesterday. The kids played in their pool and with their slip & slide most of the day. After naps, they wanted to go outside again. I didn't mind. I was attempting to cook and chaos usually just makes the end result worse.
So, there they are, happily playing outside. All of a sudden, Vance comes in and tells me Owen pooped on Vance's shirt. What? I look at Vance's shirt and, sure enough, there is a stain. I am disgusted. Owen has been having "issues" with going to the bathroom anywhere but in the potty, e.g. in his closet while he, Vance, and Carter play with flash lights, on the floor of his room after he and Vance are in bed for the night, outside for no reason except that perhaps the bathroom is too far away and he doesn't want to stop playing, etc.
I go outside to retrieve Owen. He needs to know this isn't acceptable, even if he does think it's funny. Owen is standing on the deck, hose in hand. I head towards him. You can guess what happens next, can't you? He sprays me with the hose, soaking me from head to foot. And, the worst part is that he keeps spraying until I get to him and make him drop the hose. You'd think he would have sprayed me once, let go, and run away. Nope, he held the hose on me the entire five seconds or so it took to get to him. How can this kid not be afraid of getting into trouble?
In the end, he was in his room for three minutes while I changed clothes. And, he did tell me he loved me and I was his best friend when all was said and done.
So, there they are, happily playing outside. All of a sudden, Vance comes in and tells me Owen pooped on Vance's shirt. What? I look at Vance's shirt and, sure enough, there is a stain. I am disgusted. Owen has been having "issues" with going to the bathroom anywhere but in the potty, e.g. in his closet while he, Vance, and Carter play with flash lights, on the floor of his room after he and Vance are in bed for the night, outside for no reason except that perhaps the bathroom is too far away and he doesn't want to stop playing, etc.
I go outside to retrieve Owen. He needs to know this isn't acceptable, even if he does think it's funny. Owen is standing on the deck, hose in hand. I head towards him. You can guess what happens next, can't you? He sprays me with the hose, soaking me from head to foot. And, the worst part is that he keeps spraying until I get to him and make him drop the hose. You'd think he would have sprayed me once, let go, and run away. Nope, he held the hose on me the entire five seconds or so it took to get to him. How can this kid not be afraid of getting into trouble?
In the end, he was in his room for three minutes while I changed clothes. And, he did tell me he loved me and I was his best friend when all was said and done.
Poison Control Again?
It is Wednesday night and I am doing my best to make dinner after an extremely long day at work. I get the kids their plates and they have at it. Vance and Elsa do a respectable job eating their dinner, which is surprising. Owen has a few bites, but has wandered off to the kitchen to put his milk away.
It's at times like this I am glad I am not on a reality television show. I wouldn't want other parents judging my lack of parenting when it comes to keeping my kids at the table. I try to keep them sitting down until everyone has finished. But, to be honest, sometimes it's more of a hassle than I think is necessary.
So, Owen is putting his milk away, but has not yet come back. It's been maybe 45 seconds. But, 45 seconds is a lot for Owen. In those 45 seconds, he was able to open the child proof lock on the utensil drawer and pull out the candy thermometer. In the five seconds it took me to get to the kitchen to check on him, he managed to chew the end off of the candy thermometer, glass and all.
I take one look at him and see his red mouth. Blood? Or, worse. Mercury? Both. I put him on the counter and try to get him to rinse out his mouth with water. He swallows it instead. Argh! Okay, I need to be rational. How bad is this? Really.
I get his mouth open and notice there are only a few cuts on his tongue and lip from the thermometer glass. The more urgent matter is how much of the red mercury he swallowed. I immediately call Peter at work to see whether I should call Poison Control or take him straight to the ER. I am on hold for what seems like forever. I am antsy. I can't wait around forever. Owen could be dying from the poisonous mercury he swallowed.
I hang up and call Mark. Peter and Mark know everything about everything. He will know what to do. Besides, he's a doctor. Well, dentist, but they're basically the same. Before Mark even has a chance to say hello, I rush in with, "Owen has swallowed mercury from a thermometer. Do I need to take him to the ER?" His answer? "Yes, get him to the ER right away."
So, of course my anxiety has quadrupled. It's one thing when I make things worse in my mind than they are in real life. It's another when Mark is telling me this is urgent. I quickly get Owen into his room to get pants on (we are potty training and he is wearing only underpants). I call Mike and Shanon in hopes that they can come and stay with Vance and Elsa, who are still sitting at the table like angels. No answer.
I am just about to get everyone in the car when I notice Mark has called back and left a voicemail. It must have been when I was trying to reach Mike and Shanon. Without checking the voicemail, I call him back. His first question to me is what color is the mercury. It's red, duh! That's not mercury. That is a red alcohol used in thermometers. Mercury is silver. I don't need to worry. Owen is not going to die.
My first reaction is to break down on the floor. I can't help it. All of the adrenaline and fear and relief from the past five minutes has caught up with me and my body lets it all go by sobbing on the floor. Owen comes up to me and hugs me and tells me he loves me. And, the world is right again. I hug him for the rest of the night. And, when he wants to get into bed with me instead of going to sleep in his bed that night, I let him.
Vance's 4th Birthday Party
It is the week before Vance's 4th birthday party and my goal is to come home from work and concentrate on cleaning the house. I find that if I do a little each day, it is a lot less stressful than trying to clean the entire house is one night. Unfortunately for me, my focus on the cleaning means less focus on Owen.
I spend Thursday night cleaning the basement. Our basement has turned from Man Cave
So, there I am, happily, well maybe not happily, picking up the toys in the basement. Vance, being the good boy that he is, is helping me pick up the blocks, telling me; "I will get the blocks under the table because you are too big to go under the table." Thanks, honey, I love you, too.
It is after maybe three minutes that I notice Owen and Elsa are missing. I hear Elsa upstairs saying something about water. I just know they are trying to get water out of the fridge like they were doing 20 minutes ago and I am afraid to go upstairs and see the mess. But, I do anyway because it is better to contain the mess as quickly as possible.
It is at this moment, I should have realized what I was in for. Just an hour earlier, while cooking dinner, Owen and Elsa broke into my bathroom cabinet (yes, there are child locks on it and no, they do not work on Owen). Once in my cabinet, they took out my very expensive Chanel face powder. Powder I only use on special occasions. Powder they decided could be used not only on themselves, but also on the floor. I had vacuumed that floor only moments before. That should have been my sign to give up and go to bed.
So, I walk upstairs, not thinking of the face powder incident, and I see water all over our newish laminate floors. Only, it is not the minor amount of water that spills out of the fridge when they are trying to fill their water cups on their own. No, this water looks like a lake. A massive lake spread out between the kitchen and the dining room. That is when I notice the empty gallon of distilled water on the floor. Owen took it upon himself to pull out the distilled water we use for Peter's humidor and pour it into his and Elsa's cups. Are you kidding me?
I grab Owen and put him in his room right away and tell Elsa to go downstairs. I go into the hall closet and grab three beach towels to try to mop up the water before it seeps into the laminate and causes it to bubble. I find that the three towels are not enough so I grab three more. During this entire process, Owen is in his room yelling to me that he has "stopped whining". Yes, that is one of the rules of timeout: you cannot leave your room until there is no more whining.
At first, I ignore him because I am busy mopping up the lake in the kitchen. But, after I am finished, I decide to just ignore him. If he leaves his room on his own, which he has no issue doing even though his brother and sister would never leave their timeouts without permission, that's fine. If he stays in his room, well, at least he's semi contained. Either way, I am going back downstairs and continuing to clean. I am too tired to deal with how I am feeling about him right now.
He comes downstairs a few minutes later. I continue to clean even though he is obviously trying to get my attention. After another few minutes, he starts with "Love You, Momma" in his gravely-too-old-for-a-child voice. Over and over again until, finally, I can't ignore him anymore. I hug him and tell him I love him, too. That's the thing about Owen. He can do something that makes you want to give him away and within ten minutes, he has you back to loving him more than anything.
To My Future Daughter-in-Law
I knew Owen was special the week he was born. I had two very vivid dreams that first week where I realized he would give me a lifetime of worry and heartache ... and love. And, he has not disappointed in the three years since. I joke about writing a book to my future daughter-in-law so she knows what kind of man she is going to marry. I, of course, would not give it to her until after the wedding for fear she may have second thoughts. In the meantime, I will try to use this blog to share Owen's shenanigans. Hopefully, it will bring some laughs and make everyone appreciate and love Owen as much as we do.
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