Yesterday my Owen took one step closer to becoming a man. Granted he still has a ways to go, but this was a big deal.
We went to Olive Garden (a whole ‘nother story for sure) to celebrate getting our new car (see Heather’s post). We hit it at prime dining around 7 PM – things pretty much clear out after 8:30 – but we had a 1/2 hour wait. What to do?
It’s always a dilemma when we need to wait in confined space where there are expectations for no running – no jumping – no screaming – no bothering other people. What to do? Heather took Kyle and waited inside with him (which he is pretty good at). I took Owen outside to play on the sidewalk.
We practiced running and racing. After about 45 seconds of that we had to move on to something else. We practiced jumping off the bench as far as we could. That lasted much longer, but since it’s more dangerous, it naturally would.
After about ten minutes he was ready to go inside. What to do now?!? Heather suggested changing diapers – no even better – Owen goes on the potty in the restaurant. Great idea for a 10 minute activity.
Here is the big deal: we went inside and were the only ones in the restroom. I pointed to the urinals – “Do you want to go potty in a urinal? You say it – urinal.” He pointed to the big one – “ruhnal”. “That one is too big – that one [the short one] is your urinal.” Without going into detail (although father’s with sons can imagine quite well), he did a great job and didn’t miss a drop. Yahoo! But the most fun part – reaching up (pants still down), grabbing the handle and flushing. He did it – yahoo!
Just need to teach him to not touch the urinal screen and deodorizer block….
Today we bought a new car and traded in our black Acura MDX. Absolutely ridiculous, I know– but I get very sentimental about things like this. I feel so sad to part ways with the “black car” (as K & O so fondly referred to it). The “black car” is the car we drove the boys home from the airport in. They rode in their carseats backwards as little babies, until they turned one, in the “black car.” We had our first family road trips together in the “black car.” They learned all about their beloved orchestral/symphonic music in the “black car.” It makes me sad to say goodbye to Black Car. We had good times in Black Car…
Here are some Black Car photos from this past weekend:
But unlike me, the boys seemed to have no sentimental issues whatsoever with saying goodbye to Black Car. In fact, they embraced the entire thing no questions asked. They jumped at the chance to “go to the car store” knowing full well that we would be leaving Black Car there and driving off with “New Blue Car.” They happily gave Black Car kisses goodbye in the dealership parking lot…
And welcomed the Volkswagon Passat — “New Blue Car” — with open arms —
After the deal was done, we went out to dinner to celebrate “New Blue Car”… Kyle ate his pasta like a madman — no sadness, no weepiness, no Black Car blues…
When New Blue Car was safely parked at home in the garage the boys welcomed it happily — and patted it and kissed it goodnight…
…surely making New Blue Car as happy as a new car can be.
Some days Haiti is on my mind — right at the surface, stuck there all day, no way to push it down. Today was one of those days… as we waited for news from our favorite “Haiti Family” the Livesays. You’ve got to check out their blog if you haven’t already… livesayhaiti.blogspot.com And on today’s post you’ll see their new beautiful Haitian Angel. Every time a new Haitian baby (whatever age- 9 weeks, or 9 months, or 9 years old) comes home, our family rejoices. Today is a GOOD DAY — Phoebe Joy is home! Click Here
Top Ten Kyle & Owen Quotes From the Past Few Days:
- Kyle — After he got into big trouble for sneaking off into the kitchen and playing with Braydon’s cell phone: “Where’s my cell phone? I got no cell phone?????”
- Owen, while throwing his carrotts onto the floor during dinner: “Here kitty kitty, come eat your food kitty kitty!”
- Kyle, opening the door to let Cooper, our cat, outside: “O.k. Cooper, here you go Cooper, you go get birds Cooper. GO GET THE BIRDS!!!”
- Owen, on the drive home from daycare: “Mama, you and Papi go to the restaurant today!” (this is Owen’s not-so-subtle-way of telling us that he wants to have their babysitter, Alex, hang out with them). Upon hearing me respond to Owen by saying “No, we’re not going to a restaurant tonight” Kyle, all disappointed, says: “No restaurant tonight? Oh man!!!”
- Kyle, speaking to the uneaten remainder of a hummus sandwich left on his plate at lunch: “You wait right there! After nap, I no eat you. After nap, I eat Newton cookies!” [Fig Newtons]
- Owen, upon getting in trouble for throwing his cup across the room, desperately trying to deflect any responsibility: “I can’t throw that cup! The wind did it! The wind blew that cup!”
- Kyle, in a ploy to try to get Fig Newtons, pointing to the inside of his mouth: “Mama, I have an owie in there. Owie! It hurts in there! Mama, I need to put Newton cookies in there!”
- Owen, walking around the house holding our cat Cooper in his arms: “See this?!?! This is my baby. This is my baby! Say, ‘hi baby’!”
- Kyle, repeated daily (sometimes multiple times daily), whenever his brother goes poopie on the potty: “I can’t go poopie on the potty today. I go poopie on the potty very, very soon.”
- Owen, in response to the question “Do you want milk or juice?”: “I want beer!”
January 2006
January 2007
This short film was made by a high school student.
Click here to go to YouTube and watch the video (or paste into your browser: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjy9q8VekmE)
Owen has always liked buttons. We’ve noticed this, in fact, since our very first moments with him. When we travelled to Haiti to get the boys Braydon was wearing a button-down shirt. As he held our baby on his lap for the very first time in the orphanage Owen was deliriously entertained by touching and chewing on those shirt buttons. Our little “Big O” proceeded to do that practically non-stop for his first few days, and then weeks, with us. Since Braydon wears button-down shirts so often, and since Owen preferred being held by Braydon, and since Braydon held him pretty much 24×7 in the beginning, our baby Owen almost always had this button-biting-button-playing pleasure and my Braydono almost always had the pleasure of a shirt covered with spit. Perhaps it is just a coincidence, but last night the following happened…
Owen was sitting on the changing table and I was getting him into a diaper and pajamas before bed. Owen was staring upward at the hanging shirts on clothes hangers in the boys’ closet. Owen said, “I want to wear that one!” and pointed to a red button down shirt. It is a dress shirt, something that has only been worn once (Kyle wore it to Sadie’s Christmas Dance Recital in Maine over our Christmas vacation; on that evening Owen wore a similar blue button down shirt), the boys only have 2 button-down shirts each right now and they have generally been reserved only for wear to special occassions. I was shocked by Owen doing this since NEVER before has he ever ever ever requested (or even seemed to notice) any piece of clothing – ever! I even went through a phase when I tried hard to get the boys to show some preference/choice/care-at-all for their attire. I failed miserably at getting them on board with style-consciousness. I gave up after awhile since they truly could not care any less about what they are wearing at any given moment. So last night when Owen suddenly said this about the hanging red shirt I had to be sure I wasn’t misunderstanding. I said, “What? Say that again?” And he tugged at the red shirt and said clear as day: “I want to wear that one!” I said, “O.k., you want to wear that shirt to daycare tomorrow?” and he said, “Yup!”
This morning Braydon ironed the red shirt for Owen and another button down shirt for Kyle. As I was putting the red shirt on Owen, my boy was deliriously thrilled with all the buttons: “Look at this button Mama! And this one! And this one! And this one!” Once the shirt was on him, my boy strutted over to the big mirror and took a good long look at his handsome little self. He stood there, pacifier in mouth, lovey lion squeezed tight up to his face, and just smiled at himself. I said: “You look gorgeous!!! I like your shirt!!!” Grinning ear-to-ear he said to me, “Cute alert mommy?” And we did what we do on a lot of mornings: “Cute alert! Cute alert! Sound the sirens! Rrrrr Rrrrr Rrrr! Cute alert!” He could not have been more pleased with himself.
Can’t we just bottle some of that self-confidence now and place it carefully on a shelf so that when he’s about 14 years old we can whip it out and tear off the cap?
Today was the first day that Owen wore a shirt that he had actively independently and unpromptedly PICKED OUT for himself. A button shirt.
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