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| Previous Week | Back Home | Next Week | Journal Key: Green = Steve | George = navy | Janet = Purple | Evelyn = Black 1/23/14 (Thursday) Owen did actually get interested in what the guys were doing in the kitchen last night, after all. He came down in his pajamas. "Hey, Spiderman!" they said. He showed them the stickers he got from the doctor. They stepped outside. "Where did those cleaning guys go?" he asked. We have a big hole in our kitchen wall, and there are giant fans running in there, with a dehumidifier, until Saturday night. It's very loud. Poor Shelby spent all day in the basement, crying. Buster was so upset that she got onto our bed last night. Owen seems to be ignoring it all. I picked the kids up and the three of us went to Wendys--it's Steve's first night of class this semester. I had a book of coupons for free frosties, which will expire in February, so we got some, even though it's twenty degrees out. This was Owen's first conscious experience with a frosty, apparently. I had to explain to him what it was. He was very enthusiastic. Partway through the meal, we realized that he was calling it "frosting." "Mommy," he said, "let me explain to you all about the frosting. I don't understand frosting." At some point during the meal, having remarked to a friendly stranger that Owen has about two years of cuteness left, I ended up explaining to Cara that, no, she's not cute anymore. However, I pointed out, that means I'm no longer laughing at her. Back at home, we decided to spend some time in the basement watching Scooby Doo with Shelby, so she would know that life was going on. I'm not sure whether the presence of the children was helpful. Steve talked to the daycare teachers, and they don't think Owen needs speech therapy. He speaks clearly, they said; the only problem is that he's so quiet and soft-spoken. Not at home! 1/24/14 (Friday) This was a very exciting evening: Aunt Claire came up! We went out, to escape the blowers. At Chilis (which was novel for Claire), the kids sat on either side of her and were both very happy. She got to help Owen open his kids menu and help Cara figure out a puzzle. At Barnes and Noble afterwards, of course, Owen insisted that Claire read him a superhero book. She did so in her usual style: from across the children's department, we could head Owen exclaiming, "No, that's Iron Man! No, that's Wolverine!" Owen has, by the way, been talking a lot lately. He goes on and on. Cara and I picked him up today, and he was rattling along about the kids at school; then he stopped, saying, "That's my day. Now I want to hear about my sister's day. Cara, did you have a day?" When we got into the car, later, with Claire, we were having an actual lucid conversation. Owen stopped us, wailing, "Hey, I don't get to talk!" 1/25/14 (Saturday) This morning I took Owen out to get a haircut and do some errands. On the way to the mall, I had to turn off the cd in the car. Owen had brought along his bracelet, which came with one of his birthday cards: it looks like a watch, with Yoda on it, and when you press on it it plays a few seconds of the Star Wars theme. We just listened to his bracelet. At Target, we picked out new car seats. I'm so happy to be done with the five-point harness! Owen was quite disappointed not to be getting any toys, but I figure that hearing "no" is good for him. At the mall, we got right in to the Kids Cuts. Owen sat in a fire truck. His haircut, somehow, took about an hour. For that whole time, he sat and watched Rug Rats. Accidentally, I watched it, too, for a few minutes. It was horrible. However, eventually his hair was done. I had to take his shirt off of him to shake hair out of it. His pants were coated. It was . . . impressive. However, he got a pink lollipop, as he had requested, and we went on with our lives. The kids went to sleep over in Middletown. Grandmama had an interesting time putting Owen to bed. While we read a bedtime story about a nightmare, Owen told me this tale (as nearly as I can remember it): When I was little I had a nightmare in my closet, and it tiptoed to my bed and it said ROAR, and I said something to my nightmare - I said, Hey, go away! - and it said ROAR!!! (at this point he raised his arms with threatening claw-like hands) and I SCREAMED (he actually just screamed at this point) and the nightmare carried me away to its nest. But I didn't want to be in a nest, and I said, Take me home. But the nightmare didn't take me home. When we were done with bedtime stories Owen brushed his teeth. Then he brushed Winnie the Wolf's teeth, and lion's teeth, and kitty's teeth. Finally I let him take a spare toothbrush to bed so he could continue to brush the teeth of any other plush companions. 1/26/14 (Sunday) The kids got home in time for lunch, which we were able to eat in our nice, quiet, admittedly sheetrock-challenged kitchen. Owen ate meatloaf, rice, and yogurt, while I read to him. I was allowed to select the books, which I enjoyed. I read Bread and Jam for Frances to my sometimes-reluctant eater. I haven't read it to him for a while; I don't know whether Steve has. On a few of the songs, though, Owen joined in with considerable enthusiasm. 1/27/14 (Monday) As usual, Owen was very chatty when I picked him up. He talked and talked. Eventually, he said, "I'm done now. That's all about my day." When we got home, Steve must have asked him about his day. He refused to talk about it, because he had already told Mommy. Strangely, he did not mention what I realized later and he confirmed when I asked him: the letter this week is O. O for Owen, O for oatmeal. I really would have thought that would have been exciting enough to remember and bring up! Owen and I picked up Cara, but ABC wasn't in its usual space.We went walking around the school, looking for them. Owen trailed after me, for the most part, talking, of course. His main theme was that Cara was crying for us. He was very concerned. 1/28/14 (Tuesday) Miss Jane and Miss Vina reported that Owen shocked them completely today by running wild, driving toy cars around, etc, like any normal four-year old. In the car on the way home, we were talking about birds. Owen likes penguins. Do you know what penguins do? They swim under the water. Some ducks swim under the water, too. And when the duck swims under the water, and the whale comes, it swallows the duck. And when the whale goes back to its house, it spits the duck out. And it gets some food from its kitchen, and it puts the food in the duck's mouth. And that was just a story. There was another story, too, about trees, and when there was a fire one tree fell into it and then another tree fell into it, but the ducks were better. 1/29/14 (Wednesday) When a whale swallows Owen, he is gone. In fact, when anything swallows him, he is gone. We finally, after cancelling two weeks in a row, had the Loefflers over for playdate tonight! Owen and I got to have another of our conversations in which we establish that, although he will claim that he does, he does not know who the Loefflers are. Nor can he pronounce their name. Wafflers. The house had been getting a little sloppy, so, on the way home, the kids and I made plans to clean up. Cara was going to put away her Barbies. Owen was going to help me do things, although, he said, sometimes he does things wrong. He does a lot right, though: he put all of our shoes away neatly, and then the two kids tidied up the playroom. I was very happy with them. | Previous Week | Back Home | Next Week | |