Outside the Classroom

So, I'm sitting here this morning, outside the speech teacher's room at the elementary school where Owen will go next year. I'm watching all the kids file in for the start of the school day and it's suddenly easy to imagine my beloved boy marching through these same halls in just a matter of months. But also, really difficult. Because I worry about him and how he will conform to all the rules of a "big kid" school. 

Although he turned five this past summer (the age that the state of Georgia requires attendance in kindergarten, as I was repeatedly informed shortly after our move), his dad and I decided to stick with our plan of enrolling him in pre-k to give him the advantage of an extra year of growth and maturity. In order to do that, we had to find a private school (in our case, a preschool/day care facility) that would accept him in their pre-k program at the age of five. And despite my reservations, I've been pleased with the Georgia state-funded pre-k program and his teacher. It's a lot like the preschool setting he's familiar with, but it's five days a week, full days, and the curriculum seems to still challenge him.

So why am I sitting outside the speech teacher (or specialist?) office at the public elementary school? To be followed by an appointment with the "Instructional Support Teacher" (whatever that is) and later, the school psychologist?

Because we're trying to get to the bottom of things. Of Owen's behavior problems. Of his emotional instability. Of his gross motor struggles. To name a few. 

And as I type that out, it occurs to me that you might be thinking, "what five-year-old doesn't have difficulty with all of those things?" And that's certainly valid. But let's just say that I know - and have known for some time - that Owen's struggles go just a bit beyond the boundaries of what is normal for his age. 

After a turbulent summer, we have decided to pursue the assistance of occupational therapy to help address our concerns. We're starting there and will remain open to any/all suggestions, referrals, and outcomes. 

The public schools offer free assistance with such matters, assuming he qualifies for the program (and a subsequent IEP), which is why we are here today. 

In addition to the individual assessments performed by the three persons mentioned above, his pre-k teacher and I have also filled out evaluation forms that asked us to describe Owen's behavior (on a scale of never/sometimes/often/always) with things like, "has a short attention span" (always), "disrupts the play of other children" (always), "seems to take setbacks in stride" (never), "is easily soothed when angry" (never), "seems unaware of others" (always), "has poor self-control" (always), "is easily distracted" (always), "annoys others on purpose" (always), etc. I could go on, but I just picked out a few that struck me (these were from his teacher's version) of the 100+ questions.

I also have an appointment with a private OT next week because, regardless of whether he tests into the school's assistance program, I still feel he can benefit from working with a professional. 

I thought about posting some examples of specific behavior or situations that exemplify my concerns, but decided against it for now. And besides, most of my readers (if I still have any) know all about it and have likely even witnessed it themselves. (His explosive behavior leaves an impression on most who witness it.)

My prayer for Owen is that he would find peace within his own head, heart, and body. And that he would know that his mom and dad here on earth, and his Heavenly Father above, love him from the deepest parts of our hearts. And we always will. 

Life interrupted

Hello again, dear readers (if there are still any of you out there)!

I am here to announce that I plan to start blogging again. After Nora was born, life got (expectedly) hectic and I decided to give up on it (save for a couple of brief, photo-less posts), and eventually even took the blog down from public view. (I always kept it active, but only visible to me, in the hopes that I might get back to it someday.) Well, that someday appears to be now. I have been reading through the years' worth of posts the past couple of days and it was so much fun to go back and reflect on time gone by. It reminded me of how special it is to document the milestones and funny, memorable moments in my family's life. And how cathartic it is to just write again. It's been a couple of years since I've written anything substantial, but I'm feeling the pull to get back at it, so... here goes!

(And hopefully I can get photos to upload again. I was having issues with that...)

So, just to dive right in, we have moved. Again. We are currently living in Johns Creek, Georgia (near Atlanta) and have been in our new home for about six weeks. So far, I really like it here. There's a lot of things to do with the kids and the town we live in is pretty affluent, so public spaces are clean, schools are excellent, the people are friendly and educated, and life moves at the pace with which I feel comfortable. Things were beginning to feel a little stagnant for us in Muscatine and, although we loved many things about our life there (namely our friends, church, kids/moms groups, and proximity to family), we decided it was time for a change. So, here we are.

We bought a two-story house (which I've always wanted) and did so sight unseen (for me anyway). Ryan was here working out of a hotel since the beginning of June and, although I did come down for one house-hunting visit at the end of June, it wasn't until July that we found one we love. I got to "meet" the house for the first time only hours before we went to closing (a daunting task that really tested my faith in my husband!) and I am happy to say that I couldn't be more pleased with the house. It is lovely and we are having fun adding our own little personal touches. Hopefully I'll have more to share on that progress in the coming weeks.

Owen, who turned 5 in July, is doing very well in pre-K at a nearby preschool. There was a bit of a learning curve for me, adjusting to Georgia's school requirements (primarily their policy that if you're 5 by Sept. 1, you must go to Kindergarden), but we worked it all out and were able to "hold him back" a year, prolonging Kindergarden for another year. We struggle with lots of personality/behavior issues with Owen (these have been ongoing for the past few years), but he is certainly starting to mature and - although he's still quite hyper and LOUD most of the time - we enjoy more and more moments of intelligent conversation with our bright, and quite funny, little man.

Nora is 2 and is just as cute as can be. I am so sad that I haven't recorded all the milestones of her first couple years the way I did for Owen, but I suppose that's often how it goes for second (and subsequent) children. She is always smiling, plays quite well on her own (usually with baby dolls and princess costumes), and loves her big brother. Her vocabulary is superb, just like her brother, and we always get lots of "oohs," and "ahhs" whenever we go out because, I must say, she is absolutely adorable!

That's about all the time I have for now. Just wanted to get some of the basics out of the way. I hope to be back soon with lots more good stuff to share, here in Peterson land (coming to you now from hot and steamy Georgia.) Stay tuned...

8 months old

Time for another "dump post" of random milestones in Nora's development. She is currently 8 months old and sometime between my last post (at 7 months old) and now, the following things have happened:

She crawls! This momentous event actually started shortly (as in just days) after my last post, and has evolved from a "stretch for an object until she eventually reaches it," to a belly wriggle, to a combination army crawl / regular crawl. (And it's still evolving every day.) But one thing's for sure...this girl is on the move! She definitely gets where she wants to go, and relatively quickly! Just today I had to make a quick dash to pick her up before she made it right up to the top of the basement staircase. Time to invest in a good baby gate (the one we have is terrible for everyday use) and make sure the house is up to par on baby-proofing. She definitely keeps me on my toes!

She can also push herself back up to a sitting position now, so really, other than pulling herself up to standing (which I'm sure will be part of my next post!), she moves every which way she pleases.

Nora has already voluntarily given up her pacifier, just about a month or so earlier than her brother did as a baby. Neither one of them was ever a big user of it anyway, except at nap and bedtime. Both of them just started to reject it when I would offer it, so I decided not to push it. If she doesn't need it, why force it on her? She is not, however, the rock star sleeper that her brother was (and still is). While she is sleeping through the night (and thank God for that!), she often ends up crying herself to sleep (if she doesn't fall asleep while nursing) rather than lying quietly and contentedly in her crib like her brother did. And if she does wake in the night (or at nap time), it can be tricky to get her back to sleep. There's this odd balance of waiting to see if her crying will subside on its own, versus going in there and sometimes picking her up, other times just stroking her back and soothing her, and other times nursing her, that I'm still trying to figure out. On the nights when she does wake (which I'd say is about 50% of the time), I just dread it because I have no idea what is going to work! It's really just trial and error, I'm afraid.

She's been babbling for quite some time now and I'm not sure when we first heard her say that same first word that Owen said, "dada," but it was a while back. Anyway, it seems like it was a long time before Owen assigned meaning to that term, but I'm fairly certain that Nora actually knows who Dada is now. She starts saying it whenever Ryan walks into the room and even when she hears the garage door open when he comes home at lunch time. So cute!

Another greeting she learned recently was the wave. I don't recall trying to teach her this, so she must have just picked it up on her own, but she'll give me this cute little wrist roll when she sees me from across the room and I just die. Love it!

Nora LOVES her big brother. LOVES him! (And he loves her, too!) I could never have imagined how much they would adore each other at this stage. Both of them simply light up with joy at the sight of one another. And, while there is the occasional incident when I need to intervene, they actually play together pretty well. The other day, I witnessed her tackle him (in a sweet way) and climb all over him. And to Owen's credit, he is super sweet and patient with her when she does that kind of thing. He totally tolerates her pulling his hair and seems to understand that she is doing it as an act of affection, not violence. I just melt whenever they put their little faces right up next to one another (they both initiate this!) as if they are trying to hug and kiss one another. Heart melting!!!

And while I'm at it, here are a couple things going on in Owen's life these days...

He seems to be doing well in preschool and his teacher appears to really enjoy him (which is fortunate!) He also started his very first gymnastics class today at the Y. It went ok — he has A LOT to learn, not the least of which is to pay attention to his teachers! — but I think it will be good for him. He tried peeing while standing for the first time today. (Sorry if that's TMI. This is my life, folks.) Although he led me to believe that this is the way he does it at school, so perhaps he learned that one (by watching the other boys?) on his own.

And something interesting I finally tried this week (I've been meaning to do it for some time) is to organize all his toys into a "toy rotation" plan, where I only leave out some of his toys to play with until he grows tired of those and then I pack those up and bring out some other ones. The idea is to 1.) contain the clutter, 2.) eliminate toy burn-out (getting tired of the same old toys), 3.) create a sense of fun and excitement when the old toys come back out (like getting new toys!), and 4.) create space and opportunity for him to fully enjoy the toys he already has. I used this link to help get me started, but then I kind of just winged it (is that the correct past tense of that phrase? Or is it, "wung it?" LOL!) to make it work for us. We'll see how it goes, but so far, I have to say that he does seem to be getting much better use out of the few toys I left out. And I do mean "few." I was a bit apprehensive at first because, despite what Ryan always says, he really doesn't have that many toys, so I was afraid that only having out a dozen or so playthings at a time would be boring for him. But we've gone downstairs (where I have officially moved all of his toys) every day since doing this and he has played with almost everything that's out — some of it stuff that he hasn't touched in months! It will probably also be a good way to weed out some of the things that he really never plays with (Goodwill, here we come). And other than a minor meltdown when he saw me packing the other 2/3 of his stuff away in Rubbermaid containers (I had planned to do this during naptime, but it wasn't long enough that particular day), he hasn't missed his other toys at all. He's not asked about a single thing that's packed away yet. It's only been about three days now, and I don't know yet how often I will switch things around, but I think we'll just play it by ear and see how he does with what he's got and go from there.

That's it for now. Still haven't looked into the maxed out photo storage issue yet, so I'm sorry to report there will be no photos again this time (which is really too bad because I've got some good ones!) One of these days maybe I'll figure it out.

Farewell Fond Friend

I have postponed sharing this news for the past week because I think I've been in denial. I keep thinking that he can't really be gone. But...it's time I face the facts. We have lost a dearly loved member of the family.

Mr. Lion.

(You may recall hearing about him in this previous post.)

I'm saddened to report that Owen's most loved stuffed pal, Mr. Lion was inadvertently left at the park last week (at least, that's what I think happened to him). I remember Owen asking if he could bring him with us and I told him he could, but that he had to stay in the car. (That was pretty commonplace, actually.) And I am certain that our friend did not come with us (knowingly) into the park. But sadly, he never made it home. So, my guess is that he must have fallen out of the car as we were getting in or out of it, and none of us noticed.

I called Ryan immediately once I realized he was gone and he did a quick drive-by of the parking lot to search for him. And I also drove back there that afternoon (after the kids had napped), but alas, he was nowhere to be found. I even called the parks department after a few days to see if anyone had turned him in, but that was a dead end, too.

I'm pretty sure that I am far more upset about this loss than Owen is. We have misplaced Mr. Lion quite a bit in the past, so O's been pretty understanding about going to bed without him on occasion. And now that he's gone for good (gah!), he's really only asked about him once or twice and has seemed perfectly fine with our answer: "We lost him at the park, buddy. He's gone." (Sniff, sniff...)

As it turns out, Owen has two other stuffed lions that seem to have replaced (in my opinion, the irreplaceable!) Mr. Lion as his favorites. So, maybe it was time for  Mr. Lion to fade out of first place anyway.

But when I lie in bed at night and think about the fact that we'll never open up a box of Owen's special memories and pull out raggedy old Mr. Lion someday...well, it just makes my heart ache. I'm serious, y'all. I may or may not have actually shed a tear over this.

I really am still in denial. I keep hoping that we will miraculously find him stuffed inside some random box somewhere (also commonplace) and will all laugh at how we thought he was gone forever, but here he is...back with us once again! Oh, how I hope that happens...

In the meantime, let's all take a moment now to remember the good times (in reverse order) that we shared with our dearly departed pal, Mr. Lion.

R.I.P. Mr. Lion (2010-1012). You will be missed.

Jesus is important

It simply warmed my heart this morning when I walked into Owen's room where he had been playing independently (halleluiah!) for several minutes as I cleaned up the breakfast mess. I asked him what he was doing (it sounded like maybe he was "reading" one of his books). He told me that he was talking to his stuffed animals about Jesus. Wow! I wished I had my camera to record this moment in time, but instead I decided to sit down and find out more. I asked him what he was telling them about Jesus. He said that "Jesus is important." And then he went on to define "important" for me as, "...going on an airplane." After a bit more probing, I discovered that Jesus is important and that He travels by airplane to "airports and baseball games." Oh, that Jesus! He's such a jet-setter!

(Photo via weburbanist.com)

Different as night and day

Before I had children, it never really occurred to me that the personalities of my kids might be vastly different than my own personality. Our personalities might actually clash, even. The truth is, I never thought about my future children's personalities at all. But if I had, I probably would have concluded that they would be similar to my own, or at the very least, their father's.

Only recently have I begun to think that perhaps some of my current struggles with Owen are due to just how different he and I are. Of course, there's the obvious — he's a boy, I'm a girl. He's three, I'm thirty...something. But there's more.

I'm pretty sure that as a child, I did not play the way that Owen plays. Again, I have to take into account that he's a boy, so his preferred toys are things like cars and action figures, whereas mine were baby dolls and Barbies. I liked to cradle those babies, and comb their hair, and dress them up, and (perhaps this is a little TMI) pretend to breast-feed them like I saw my mom and aunts doing with their babies. Owen, on the other hand, loves to crash everything (and I mean everything) into the couch, the walls, other toys, the legs of adults standing nearby, etc. And he's SO LOUD! And, something I find particularly disgusting, he spits a lot, on account of all of his crashing and bashing sound effects.

Ok, so you say he's a boy, that's how boys play. You're probably right. But some boys are also into quietly sitting still to read books, or color and draw, or even watch an age-appropriate movie or television show. I know I liked to do all of those things as a kid. Not Owen. Well, to be honest, he will sit for a few select shows (the 20-minute Disney variety, that is) and, depending on his mood (and how many times he's already seen it), some movies, too. But he is not one who enjoys coloring or art projects, much to my great disappointment. I used to LOVE to color as a kid and was really hoping to share in that activity with my son. I recently moved his little table and chairs out from his bedroom into the living room and put some crayons and coloring books out for him to access whenever he wants. (This was a big leap of faith and I'm still waiting for the day that I find the walls covered in scribbles!) But I was hoping that having easy access to those materials might inspire him to make use of them more often. Instead, he just likes to walk around the house with the bucket filled with crayons and dump them out from time to time.

And speaking of destruction, this child has a nasty way of breaking just about all of his toys in some fashion or another. I distinctly remember being a very careful child. I hate when things break. I take great pride in keeping my possessions neat and tidy. I can recall my mom saying that she didn't have to replace my shoes, for example, nearly as often as my siblings' because I just wasn't hard on stuff. Even to this day, I'm hesitant to lend anything out to anybody because I worry that they won't take as good of care of it as I would. So that's all probably a sign, sadly, that I'm more materialistic than others, which I guess isn't something to boast about.

But Owen on the other hand, is just so rough with things. Here are two examples just from this morning of things that he's destroyed.

Poor, decapitated Jessie. All the other toys are cowering in fear, I'm sure.

Remnants of a small notebook I had given him to draw in. (See, I told you he's not much of an artist!) This was done while I showered today.

And here's one that I happened to photograph last week that's just gross.

Yes, those are raw chicken trimmings that Owen pulled out of the kitchen garbage (among other trash) trying to find a toy that I told him his dad had thrown away (because it, too, was broken).

I think I might start to photograph all of the broken items he brings me just to document how destructive he is. Perhaps we'll all look back on it someday and laugh. Perhaps.

I love my son dearly. (I hope that is evident on this blog.) All of the above is in no way meant to rag on him and I am certainly not seeking advice or calling out for pity here. And it should be noted that there are LOTS of positive ways in which he and I differ. (He wakes up in the morning beaming with enthusiasm, whereas I am grouchy until I get a shower or, these days, at least a cup of coffee.) I just wanted to take a moment to share the realization that I had recently about why he and I have been butting heads so much. I truly think it's because our personalities are so different. But I think I'll keep him anyway!

Preschool Prayers

I recently made a list of the "things I wish I had time to do" since I feel like I just don't have enough hours in the day to do it all. The list looks something like this:

• Exercise (and lose this baby weight)
• Blog — capture, in writing, all the thoughts that flood my head every day (maybe I should journal?)
• Read — stacks of books and magazines I hope to get to someday
• Study the Bible / daily devotion time
• Spend quality time with Ryan — date nights?
• Small household projects — kitchen valance, growth chart (more on that later!), organize closets, basement, etc.

There's more, but you get the idea. So, all this is to say that I appreciate those who still check in on my little blog here from time to time. I realize that since I post so sporadically, it's likely that most of my followers (do I have any of those?) have given up on me, but I assure you, I think about stuff I want to share on here ALLTHETIME! Unfortunately, sitting down to do so doesn't happen nearly as often.

SOOOOO, I have a ton of things I want to talk about, but think that I will focus this post on what is currently banging around in my head (and heart) — Owen's first experience with preschool this week.

All summer long, I've fretted mostly about how Owen will manage to use the toilets at school without any assistance (he still struggles to pull his pants back up after the job is done). And I also thought a little about how he doesn't like to sit still or pay attention to most things for very long, but that is one of the major reasons why I decided to enroll him in the 3-year-old program — in hopes that he will get better about that. Mostly, though, I was just excited about getting a few hours twice a week to myself! And that's pretty much where my concerns ended, until three days ago.

We attended the open house at Owen's school, held the evening before his first day, this past Monday. The idea was just to introduce the kids to their classroom and (I thought) their teacher, too. The school we chose just hired a new 3-year-old preschool teacher only a couple weeks ago, so she is new. (New to this school, but not new to teaching preschool.) I will not use this platform to spread negativity about any individual, but let's just say, I was completely underwhelmed by our first meeting with her.

That night, I sat down with the paperwork that was sent home with us and tried to fill out the "getting to know you" form that asked questions such as, "what are your child's strengths/weaknesses?" and "what do you hope your child will learn this year academically/socially?" I had a tough time filling out that form. As I read through it initially, my head flooded with examples of Owen's weaknesses. But when I put pen to paper, I stopped to really think about how I wanted to answer that question. It was important to me that I listed just as many strengths as weaknesses. I didn't want my negativity to show through on this form and end up influencing his teacher's opinion of him right off the bat. So I enlisted Ryan's help. In the end, I shared that Owen has tremendous language skills, he learns new concepts quickly, asks great questions, plays well with others (keep this one in mind for later), is sweet and very funny, and loves music. However, I also explained that he struggles with focus, can be quite wild at times, tends to be a "copycat" of other kids, and is often difficult to discipline. That all seemed accurate and fair. And the night only ended in a few tears. (I'm telling you, that form was extremely hard for me to complete! Why in the world did they give that to us the night before his first day???)

So, Tuesday morning, I dropped Owen off with excitement and optimism. He seemed in good spirits and he smiled for all my pictures, so things were going well, I thought.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time at home while Nora napped and I baked banana bread and read from my book (one of my checklist items above! Woo hoo!) And I prayed for him while he was away. I prayed that he would be good and that God would guard his little heart (from fear, from embarrassment, from getting hurt).

When I picked him up, I casually asked his teacher how he did, not really having given any thought at all to what her answer would be. In hindsight, I think I just assumed I would get the same report I usually get when I pick him up from Sunday school or other nursery programs like MOPS — "he did fine." Instead, I heard something like this: "Well, he had some struggles today." Oh, like what? "Well, there was some hitting." As in, he was hitting? "Yes." Oh. "But it's just the first day." Yes, I suppose so. Was there more than that? "Well, yes. He didn't really do very well following directions either." Ok. And in the chaos of all the other parents waiting to sign out their own kids, that was pretty much the abrupt end of our conversation. I felt like an inflated balloon that had been pricked by a pin and all the air rushed out at once until I was a wrinkled, broken mess on the floor. That's how I felt. The huddled mess on the floor didn't actually come until later that day.

The more I thought about what happened, the more upset I got. I certainly don't deny that any of what the teacher said was true. (I'm well aware of my son's poor behavioral tendencies.) I think I let myself get hung up, instead, on his teacher's defeated tone of voice and unhappy facial expressions as she shared her report — which, incidentally, didn't include one single positive thing about Owen's three hours with her. I started to question whether this teacher was a good fit for Owen. Should I enroll him instead in the other preschool that I had my eye on last spring? Would they have teachers that were more enthusiastic and optimistic about kids with poor behavior on the first day?

I still actually don't know the answer to that. I'm considering the other school. But I wanted to give him (and his teacher) another try. So, today was day two of Owen's school career. Unfortunately, when I dropped him off, I discovered that his teacher was out today due to a family illness and he had a substitute. So, I wasn't able to reassess the attitude of his teacher or talk to her anymore about what happened on Tuesday. That was disappointing.

When I picked him up today and asked again how he did, the teacher's aid said, "he did better today." She also went on to say, though, that he scratched a little girl on the playground because she was headed up the ladder and he wanted to go up ahead of her. Ok, so that's better? He only scratched someone today? And that's better? Just how bad was he the other day??? A friend of mine was there to pick up her son right after me and I overheard the aid report, "he did great!" about little C. And my heart shriveled up. Right there, I felt immense jealousy that my friend's son has received two good reports and Owen has received two bad ones. In fact, all the other reports I overheard were positive. Is my kid the only troublemaker in class? How did all these other parents do such a great job prepping their 3-year-olds for the classroom and how (oh, HOW!) did I fail so miserably?

More questions flood my head today. Is Owen not ready for school yet? Does he need another year at home to mature? But would keeping him home help him with his socialization issues or would being in a classroom with other kids help him more? Should we try this other school? Is that really going to be any better? Can I honestly blame my concerns on the teacher's less-than-enthusiastic attitude? Isn't it really that I'm worried Owen is the only one in the class that causes his teachers (and classmates) headaches? And that they'll label him the "problem child?" And truly — if I'm really honest with myself — aren't I actually worried that either, A.) I am doing a horrible job parenting (and disciplining) this child, or B.) there might be something wrong with him? High functioning autism? ADHD?

Worry. Fear. Anxiety. What does God say about these things? This...this, is what he says:

"When anxiety was great within me, your consultation brought joy to my soul." (Psalm 94:19)

"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." (1 Peter 5:7)

"He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord." (Psalm 112:7)

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." (Philippians 4:6)

"When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid." (Psalm 56:3-4)

"I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears." (Psalm 34:4)

And one of my personal favorite verses: "Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long." (Psalm 25:4-5)

So I'm praying now. I'm praying hard for the Lord to reveal to me some answers. Praying that he will continue to hold Owen in his loving care and help me decipher the right paths for him here on earth. Praying for wisdom to know how to parent and discipline this child and for the strength and real faith to place my full trust in Him.

I don't know yet what the future holds for Owen or where (or IF!) he will be attending school next week. But I'm confident that God will reveal the right choices in time, so long as I seek Him.

Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.

"You mad at me?"

It's been a while since I've posted any of the funny things that Owen says lately, but I assure you, he makes me laugh one way or another every single day. Recently, I've noticed that he has a unique way of gauging whether I'm upset with him after he's done something to get scolded. Here's an example from this morning after I got angry with him for wedging himself behind the piano.

Owen (after being scolded): "Mommy?"
Me: "What?"
Owen: "No, don't say 'what,' Mommy."
Pause
Owen: "You mad at me, Mommy?"

His gauge is whether I answer his "mommy?" inquiry with "Yes?" which means all is good, or "What!" which typically means I am still upset and not ready to answer with patience and kindness. (Shame on me!) He can obviously sense my tone, but he focuses on the word I use. Because this usually makes me chuckle, it is a pretty effective method of diffusing the situation...smart boy!

Another funny phrase he says quite frequently is, "Hey, I want fumphin." This means that he wants a snack of some kind, but I love the way he pronounces "something." Cracks me up!

If you don't have anything nice to say...

First off, let me just say that I have very good intentions of writing a Christmas recap post one day very soon (maybe even later today...), but in the meantime, I just had to jot this one down.

True to the notion that Owen teaches me just as much (if not more) than I teach him on a daily basis — something I have observed over the past two and half years — I realized today that I need to keep my verbal road rage in check...and fast.

Shortly after leaving the library this morning (I won't even go into the humiliating tantrum state in which we actually exited the building), I received a phone call from Ryan (on my new iPhone...woot!)

(Ok, this post is already starting to exceed the maximum number of allowable parenthetic statements, so I apologize in advance for that.)

Anyways, I received a phone call and while answering it, I nearly missed a stop sign, causing me to slam on my brakes to avoid running through a four-way intersection, which, thankfully was empty in all three other directions. I think I said something like, "whoa!" as I did it and then answered, "hello." Owen, on the other hand, responded to the abrupt stop with — and I quote, "Are you kidding me?"

I immediately asked Ryan to hold on and I turned around to ask Owen to repeat what he just said. (I wasn't sure that I had heard it correctly.) He wouldn't repeat it, but just smiled at me with a huge grin and giggled a little — which, incidentally, made me completely forget how angry I was with him only moments before for the major library exiting meltdown.

But I am fairly certain that that is what he said. Mostly because on our way to the library, I got stuck behind a semi-truck that, in addition to being in all the wrong lanes (i.e., going straight in more than one turn-only lane), was going sooooooooo slow! And I'm pretty sure I may have said something like (ok, exactly) what Owen said now. "Are you kidding me?" After that earlier incident, Owen spent the rest of the drive talking about "passing the truck" and "Mommy drive really fast," and "I don't want to do that again," -type statements. Needless to say, it obviously left an impression on him. And one that I'm not proud of.

I am grateful, though, that the only thing I said was, "Are you kidding me?" I have been known to say worse. And after Ryan and I finished laughing hysterically at our little imitator, it occurred to me how grateful  I am for the reminder to keep my anger, and especially my comments, in check. Stat. Thanks for that one, little buddy. Lesson learned.

Guess who peed in the potty???

I'll give you one hint. His name starts with O and rhymes with "goin'." That's right. We had our first actual pee in the potty chair last Wednesday. Of course, it was totally by accident. When I removed his diaper before his bath, he just started to go, so I quickly shoved him down on the potty (but not before he wet all over Elmo's smiling face! Ha!)

(Here's a photo of the day Owen and Potty Chair Elmo were first introduced, from this overly optimistic post back in March.)

Despite my obnoxiously enthusiastic excitement, Owen was less that thrilled about the whole thing. I don't think he quite grasped that he actually DID that. That he made the pee come out, that is.

We've been putting him down on the potty before his bath for a while now, but without any success. I was hoping that the day it happened by accident, he would finally see what it was that he was supposed to do whenever I say, "just go pee-pee, buddy." But so far, he's only done it one other time and I think that was completely by accident, too.

So, I'm not holding my breath that we're actually "there" yet or anything. But at least it's a step in the right direction!

In the meantime, check out my little bug looking cute as ever. (Photos courtesy of Jackie Petersen Photography.)

Brain dump

I think one of the big reasons why I have gone so long between posts (besides the crippling fatigue of the first trimester of this pregnancy) is because I don't feel like I have any "big" news to share. But there are always things going on around here — things of varying degree of "interestingness" (a word I just made up — you're welcome), especially depending on your relationship to me and my family. But since I have a moment this afternoon, I thought I'd jot a few things down.

And so, I present to you, a random sampling of my memories from the past few days, weeks, etc.
(These really are random. Sorry about that.)

Yesterday at the park, Owen came over to show me an acorn he had found on the ground, but he accidentally dropped it before he made it to me. I told him to look right behind him on the ground where he dropped it. He looked for a little bit (although it seemed he looked everywhere but the spot where he actually dropped it) and eventually picked up something else and brought it to me. I was horrified to see a petrified (thankfully) piece of animal poop in his palm and immediately smacked it away. A chorus of "Eww, dog poop!" accompanied us on the immediate stroller ride home. That'll teach me to carry hand sanitizer in the stroller at ALL times from now on.

I've started jotting down some of the funny things that Owen says, as I know I will forget most of them much too soon. He really says all kinds of things now — some funny and butchered, others perfectly pronounced — and I haven't been very good at writing them all down. But here's one I like a lot. Ryan recently returned from a business trip to New York City and brought Owen back a little, yellow, toy taxi car, which he looooves. He calls it his "New Yor City tapseap." I LOVE how "New York City" comes out nearly perfect, but "taxi" is the part that gets slaughtered.

Last night during his bedtime prayers, I asked him what food he was thankful for and his answer was, not surprisingly, "ice cream." (We had just snacked on ice cream earlier that evening.) I also asked him what drink he was thankful for and, not nearly as expected, he replied with "coffee." Hmmm. I had to chuckle!

He also recites both the "God is great..." and "Come, Lord Jesus..." prayers quite well before each meal. I'm constantly amazed at how much he is capable of absorbing — his brain is such a sponge!

I bought him a DVD from the $5 bin at Wal-Mart that has a bunch of classic Christmas songs from classic children's Christmas movies. (Think, those claymation versions of Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, etc.) The very last song on the disc is "The Little Drummer Boy" from a similarly cheesy claymation movie I've never seen. The first time we watched it, I took some time to describe for him who the characters were in that particular song — Mary, Joseph, the Wise Men, and of course, Baby Jesus. Well, after that song ended, the DVD was over. And, because he wanted to see more, Owen started screaming/chanting, "Baby Jesus! Baby Jesus! Baby Jesus!" Too, too, TOO darn funny and cute! Now, he refers to the entire DVD as "Baby Jesus," and we watch it pretty much every single morning (and some evenings, too).

For Halloween (see, I told you this post was random), we borrowed a bunch of costumes from friends because we really had no clue what to dress Owen up as. That, and we're cheap. Here are a couple that I managed to get him to try on...

Buzz Lightyear

Police Officer

But the winner was this adorable monkey. So cute!

As for how I'm doing (which I get asked all the time), I feel great. I have finally started to feel some movement from the baby, though it's still just that faint, fluttery stuff right now. I've also had some unpleasant hip pain that I don't remember having this early with Owen. I'm not sure if it's just my hips widening to make room for the baby or if I actually maybe injured myself. (I first started noticing it immediately after walking in a 5K race several weeks ago.) It's not a constant pain, but man, when I try to get up from certain positions, I feel about 85 years old!

I have broken out some of my maternity wardrobe, though most of it is really still too big for me. I'm in that awkward stage where my regular jeans are WAY too tight to wear comfortably, but my maternity pants seem to fall off of me with every step I take. So, I spend most days in sweat pants or yoga pants, which, really, is just fine with me. It's so different this time around not spending my days in an office cubicle, surrounded by co-workers. I'm enjoying being able to just lounge around in comfies!

Well, that's about all I've got for now. I hope you enjoyed the spewing of my brain on this fine fall afternoon. I have a feeling this might be how my posts are constructed for a while. You're welcome.