Oh The Stories We Will Tell! Owen

Daddy and big Brother with Owen February 2006

Owen was born on a very cold day in February.  He was one day past his due date.  Jon had to convince me that I was in labour.  I thought I had the flu- and it really wasn't until he mentioned that he "wasn't aware of a flu that came every 5 minutes" that I realized that the big day was finally here.  We parked the car at my Mom's house and walked a block to the hospital in a wind chill of minus 30.  Coat open.  Short sleeved t-shirt on.  Sweating buckets and complaining the whole way.  Absolutely scared out of my mind that the great lump in my belly had to come out the same way it went in. 

Do you want an Epidural?  Hell yeah!  Give me everything you got!

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My Happy Boy!

Owen was a very quiet baby.  His first cry was as tiny as a mouse.   By the time he was 6 months old he had figured out that if he coughed he could get our attention.  His first words did not come until almost 4, but he could say the alphabet backwards and forwards and spell words by the 3. He's not a cookie cutter type kid, and none of his development has followed a traditional path.   I think that this is what makes me love him more each day.  What a boy!

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Next time it is snack BEFORE bath..

What Owen lacks in words he makes up for in creativity.  When he was little and found himself hungry he would scurry off to the kitchen and bring back a package of oatmeal,  placing it gently in my hand.  For many months, when he first started speaking and his mouth would not cooperate (he has very little control over the one side) he often made up names for items.  My personal favourite: Binoculars were "magic eyes" - which if I stop and think about it is a darned good explanation!

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