Thursday, August 1, 2013
Dear Owen: 18 months
Dear little Oboe,
Eighteen months and I must declare that you are the best thing ever at this age.
You are a really friendly guy but you do this little bashful closed-eye look away that is precious.
Suddenly over the past couple of weeks you copy everything we say. A favorite from this morning: "I pa pa pow-ah!" (copying Bob's "I have the power.")
You copy everything Bob does -- climbing, running, jumping, throwing, eating, drinking, singing. You've even started begging to wear his clothes; you'll find a discarded outfit of his and bring it to me saying "change pants, change shirt" (something like, "chay pits, chay sit") or at night you'll go to the dresser and ask for "Bobby's jammies." Last night you slept in one of his shirts and a pair of his undies over your diaper.
You give the best hugs and kisses and you give them freely, especially to mom and dad and bob. The other day I was in a grumpy mood and you saw bob give me a hug while standing on a kitchen chair. As soon as Bob climbed down you were up there saying, "Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, mama!" until I came over and leaned down and hugged you, and then you squeezed tight to my neck and patted my back and gave me one of the best hugs ever for about five minutes straight. And it really did cheer me up because it was just that cute.
You scratch my back too, and you keep at it for quite a while (longer than Bob and probably even Dad!)
You love playing with "guys" and little dirt bikes; you do a mean atv sound effect. Last night at dinner you were driving your corn on the cob around your tray, buzzing your lips and saying "bit bite" and grinning at how cute you were.
You run everywhere you go, despite my begging you to slow down and be careful. You whip around corners, you bump into doorways, you stumble and fall and get bruises and scrapes. And you keep running.
You are close to average size for your age, which means you are close to the same size as Bobby. Just about every time we go out someone will ask if you are twins (which is crazy!) but you certainly do hold your own alongside Bob. Day by day you progress on the path from sidekick to partner in crime.
"Ouch" you say when you fall or bump your head.
You love bikes and tricycles and scooters and anything to ride on.
You like to play ball, especially baseball.
You love to eat meat and fruit. Chicken and bluberries might be your favorites. Chicken you ask for or celebrate by clucking, "bok, bok." Blueberries you were shoving in your mouth by the fistful when we were picking at the lake last weekend.
Have I mentioned how you adore your big bro? If he is asleep and you are awake you can't handle it for long; you go storming through his door and scramble up onto the bed to wake him. Since the weather turned hot this summer I've been putting you and Bob both to bed in mom and dad's bed (where the AC is) many nights; but it's absolutely ridiculous because you two will not stop kissing each other goodnight. You just keep on sitting up, or rolling over, or flopping on top of him, searching for his lips in the dark until you both get in a good 'smack' and then you plop back down and find my boob again. Very very cute at first. But I can't just be laying in bed while you two kiss each other all night.
Yes, you still love your nursies. And although some nights I want to scream, "Just leave me alone! They are my boobies!!!!" mostly I am thankful for the ways you are still my baby. Because you sure are growing up fast! (Or, you know, at a regular pace, but babyhood just doesn't last long, that's all.) The ways you show love make this the sweetest age yet. (Despite the tantrums you're starting to throw; my favorite is when you put your head down, turn around, and just run screaming away from whatever upset you.)
I could go on and on and on, because you are so awesome, my friend. I am so glad you're my son.