Kindergarten - The Beginning

So Owen and his Mommy have successfully (I guess that term is relative) survived the first couple days of Kindergarten! Like a good Mommy, I packed Owen a healthy lunch for him in his Iron Man Lunch Box, complete with reusable ice packs to keep his food fresh and cold. Mrs. Kibler, Owen's teacher, had told me instead of sending Owen with milk money each day, it was much easier to fund his "account". Great idea! I send the child to school with a check for $25 - sure to last awhile since it was only for milk each day. And we specified WHITE milk, stay away from the chocolate and strawberry. I'm trying here, people! Roger and I raced to school after his first day, so excited to see how it went. Owen's all smiles, and extremely talkative, telling us all about his day, showing us his bookbag, including his lunch box with - his lunch still in there. "Owen, what did you have for lunch?" "Well, I had a piece of pizza, then I went back and got another piece. Then, they were also having fish sticks, so I had some of those too." *Sigh* "What color milk did you get?" Pause. "White..... and it only had a little bit of sugar in it." Wow. The child thinks the cafeteria is a buffet. There is no telling how much of my $25 I have left in the account.

Wishful Thinking

Owen was having a particularly hard time getting out of bed this morning (Friday). With tired eyes he looked at me and said, "Mommy, can I please just go back to bed for awhile?" "No, not today, but tomorrow (Saturday) you can sleep in as long as you want!" "Really? OK!" Now....how much do you wanna bet?

Owen's Randomness

I finally got Owen interested in brushing my hair last night. Felt so good, he was up until after 9:00. I told him if he brushed it every day, it would look really, really nice. "You'll look so good Yaya will want to kiss you on the lips? And people will see you and say, 'Who's that lady? Who's that lady?'"
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Roger was packing for a business trip to Texas - he'll be gone for four days. Tells Owen to stay out of his suitcase. "Why, cuz you've got pepper spray and a gun in there?"

Graduation from Mudpies!

Owen graduated from preschool on Tuesday. A complete program of poems, songs and pictures. Marching down the aisle of the church to Pomp and Circumstance, dressed in their purple satin caps and gowns. Could not be any cuter.
During one song, while most children were staring straight ahead barely moving their lips, an adorable girl on stage right was seriously getting her groove on. Roger caught it all on videotape, certain we will get some cash or at least an honorable mention on America's Funniest Home Videos. Didn't matter it wasn't even our kid. She wasn't even in his class.
Each child was passed the microphone and told the audience their name and what they wanted to be when they grew up. "My name is Noah. And when I grow up, I want to be a race car driver." "My name is Jasmine, and I want to be a teacher and a mommy." "MY NAME IS OWEN" (said embarrassingly loud) "And when I grow up, I want to be RICH!" Um, did he really just say that? I look at Rog who shook his head, "Nope, he didn't get that from me". I caught the eye of his teacher. "Nope, not me. That's YOUR son." Yes, that's my son.
After the long (incredibly long - an hour and twenty min!?!) ceremony, we got Owen together with his girlfriend Abby Hobson for pictures. I'm fully convinced these shots are going to be a part of the photo collage at their rehearsal dinner when they get married. Yes, I'm serious. So both are posed leaning against the baptism pool on the church stage. Owen pops his head up and his tassle goes flying slow mo into the water. Super Yaya to the rescue ready to dive in. And dive in he did. We quickly left the church hoping no one noticed the wet hair, wet arms, shirt...and pants.
So you think our night was full enough to end there, huh? Not so fast. I need to preface this next part by explaining what happened to me the day before. I went to pick Tate up from daycare and had to bend down to get since he was being particularly obstinate. A loud "Criicck" as well as the look on my face prompted the teacher to ask if I had thrown my back out. Gee, I wish! At least then I would've gotten some Prednisone! But alas, it was merely the crotch of my pants completely splitting at the seam. For real. Lucky for me, I was wearing a sweater which I quickly wrapped around my waste as I shuffled out of school, dragging Taterskins reluctantly behind me. So back to graduation night. Getting pictures outside of our little graduate with Yaya in front of the balloons. Yaya squats and.... "Criick". I think someone is trying to tell us something. And I refuse to believe it has anything to do with eating better. And Roger refuses to believe it has anything to do with drinking beer. We'll just blame it on shoddy craftsmanship. In fact that's exactly what it is. They just don't make things like they used to...
Congratulations to my baby boy. I really am proud of the little man he's becoming. And at the rate we're going, there are bound to be countless opportunities and stories for more posts to blog.

Five years old and a PhD later...

Well Owen's the big "Oh Five" and boy does everyone in his general vicinity know it. He's extremely proud of this accomplishment and I'll admit, so am I. We've all survived the past five years, just barely, and are now looking ahead to.....KINDERGARTEN. I'll admit, he's as emotional as a preteen girl, but he's very athletic and extremely intelligent and a very sweet boy. Aside from general behavioral problems, we've been pretty lucky raising Owen. Tate, on the otherhand, is on his way to getting us a medical degree with all we're going through with him. Pyloric Stenosis, Lactose Intolerance, Acid Reflux & GERD, Pulmonary Aspiration, in addition to the "normal" run-of-the-mill childhood illnesses, all I can say is.... Thank God for my health benefits! The illness du jour is Pulmonary Aspiration. After a visit to the hospital for a swallow test, we learned that Tate literally inhales his drinks instead of swallowing them. Prescription? Thickening his drinks to the consistency of honey. Nasty nasty business. Unfortunately, we're going through all of this as he ascends to his throne as "King of the Terrible 2's". Poor Owen is getting a taste of his own medicine, that's for sure. I'm actually considering sending him overseas and since "no" means the same thing is virtually every language, he'll get along just fine.

Who's the prettiest?

Owen has recently become interested in ballet ever since seeing Mom's Nutcracker. But it's not just the music. It's not just the costumes. He wants to lift the girls. The pretty girls. "I would like to lift them because I like looking at them and their pretty faces." Which prompted the question, "Who is the prettiest girl in your class?" The answer, of course, to no surprise is Piper who he's had a crush on for the past two years. Smart Mommy then asks, "Who's the prettiest girl in this house?" Ha ha, trick question. Response in a whisper: "You, Mommy, but don't tell Juniper".

Pantyhose!

The four year old mind never ceases to amaze me...
Owen was having 'naked time', running around the living room and shaking his booty. "Owen, put your 'naughty bits' away". (That's what we've decided to call the boy's privates. Not sure why to be honest. Sometimes, sounds almost worse than the real thing. But alas, they are now 'naughty bits'.)
"Mommy, it's my PANTYHOSE!". Silence. My wheels are spinning. I realize he is referring to the HOSE in his PANTY'S. Clever, really.
Roger has now informed me, he now refers to it as his LADYBUG. Hmmm... And I thought PANTYHOSE was bad. Now I'm scared...
The four year old mind never ceases to amaze me....