Keeping up with Mister

I have decided to start a post to which I will add as my dearest 4, almost 5 year old son says little funnies. Get ready for some funny snipets...!

1/26/10: "Mama, did you know that when your back is hurt it means that the bone that goes up fell down? That means its sore."

1/12/10: I was trying to describe to Owen the difference between fat and muscle...a conversation he initiated, by the way. I showed him my bicep when it was flexed and had him touch it, then grabbed the underneath hanging fatty portion and let him feel that. He exclaimed, "Mama, you've been eating McDonald's!"

1/12/10: While playing a round of Go Fish, Owen got the card he wanted and immediately said, "Praise the Lord." And, of course, we don't play Go Fish, we play Gold Fish. Speaking of which, do you ever just try so hard to let your kid win and it just seems that the odds are stacked against you?

12/09: I don't remember exactly when he said this, but couldn't resist. On my growing tummy in the 2nd trimester of my 3rd pregnancy Owen said, "Mommy, you're turning big fat!"

10/09: After being told that I was pregnant, Owen was quite protective. I came down with a wretched cold accompanied by a long-lasting cough. I coughed one day and he said, "Don't cough, mommy, you're going to hurt the baby!"

Playdate with Sarah

As a stay-at-home mom it is vital to have contact with the outside world. This contact usually provides itself in the form of "playdates." The general idea is that if your kids have some friends to play with, you will have the opportunity to converse with adults and regain a feeling of sanity.

Sometimes this sanity comes at great cost.

My dear friend, Sarah, and her four-year old son, Camren-the ying to Owen's yang-came over yesterday for a playdate. Its fun to see how the kids literally collide at the door and then just have at it from that moment on. Sarah and I have often been amazed at how well our kids have done in the past, playing while we gab to our heart's content. Admittedly this day was a bit more chaotic, but neither of us had any idea what was happening literally 25 feet away.

Down the hall in our small, 9X9 playroom the boys were having their way! Sarah and I, as usual were talking up until the last second before she had to pick up her daughter. As she is trying to cajole Carmen into leaving our house, our eyes were opened to the massecre that had become our playroom! Owen and Camren had emptied and turned over all nine drawers of my 3-tier organizing bins, a bucket of stuffed animals, three trains (not including the one pictured!), and several other rubbermaid tubs containing play food, dishes and other various and sundry items! Amidst the chaos were cars, trains, ponies, barbies, sporting goods, blocks, tracks, coloring supplies, mcdonald's toys, cheerleading pom-poms and more! Praise the Lord they did not climb up and empty out the puzzle boxes!

As I surveyed the mess a startling thing happened! I laughed, bid farewell to Camren and Sarah, and said, "Well, Owen, its a good thing I like to organize!" My normal proclivity is not towards humor, but rather impatience, but alas, God was gracious to little Owen. I probably should have engaged him in the clean-up song and demanded his participation, but the disaster was so far beyond his reach I didn't even try. I spent the next full hour returning each item back to its proper place. For good measure, I even vacuumed!

What fun it must be to be a small boy. And, though requiring a bit of a sense of humor, it is well worth the disasterous times!

PS: I totally had Owen pose for this picture. He had no idea why, but I knew it was going to be blogged into his history-FOREVER!

4th Folder, 4th Picture

Well, here it is Emily Rose Durham Johns, Rosie to those who love her most...my Fourth Folder, FOURTH PICTURE. Do you feel guilty? Don't. I love it.

This picture is soooo my mom. And I am doing my first blog ever about her, in death or in life. Not only that, but she is holding one of my most precious gifts, little mister himself.

Taken in June of 2005, this picture reminds me of so many things!

We were living in a different location, "The Verandas at Hazelgrove", and Isaac was working tirelessly at The Bridge. Wow...life has surely changed.

My mom's hair here cracks me up! My dad loved having my mom's hair long and because she was convinced it was thinning, she continued to perm it into a poodle due long after the style went out. My sister and I would plead with her to do something new, but she had a really hard time with change! Ironically, she cut it short just before she died and I never saw it-actually, I did, but just once, and I'd rather not talk about that just now...

Also, her eyes are closed! She was never any good at posing for pictures! Hated it in fact, but tirelessly snapped away at the kiddos and myself. I was quite the martyr to her hobby.

Thirdly, the poncho. Now I have to say, she would turn over in her grave if she knew she missed out on the return of the dreaded poncho. I laugh so hard when I see people wearing them now! My mom has sewn and worn her own ponchos since long before I was born and I just cringed at it when my friends came over growing up! How embarrassing, right? But she was her own woman, weird and cooky, and if I would have taken the time to think hard enough about it as a youngster, I would have realized that she wore them to diminish the smell of smoke on her clothing. Bless her heart, she was a smoker and would faithfully go outside about 7-10 times a day, rain or shine, to spare us and our home of the dreadful haze. I really do love her for that. Wish I could thank her now...

Lastly, but most certainly not least, my mom is sporting something that not every stylin' grandma out there can boast about. She is loving, cuddling, drinking in her precious grandchild. For all her faults, folies and graces, my mother was the best grandma I have ever known. She would tirelessly tea party, dance, coo, nestle and nurture my children any and every time she was here. You may think that was because she didn't see them very often, but I assure you she heaped it upon my nephews who lived in Sacramento without reserve. She had such a knack for getting down on Jenna's level. I am grieved to the core that Jenna's memory will fade and that Owen's will never recollect the many times my mom grandmothered them. My sadness often comes when I think of the absense of crafts and imaginings and such. In fact, just tonight, Jenna was outfitting her "American Doll Girl" and longing for some new clothes. I lamented the fact that, not only would my mom have been capable of making her some beautifully detailed doll clothes, but would have loved doing it. I also think how much I never got to learn from her.

So this blog is quite bittersweet. But more sweet than bitter.

Oh-let me add some sweet. Many have laughed at me for my swoonings over mister Owen. But my goodness, I have only to look at a picture of him as a little baby and my mouth starts watering. I can recollect the smell of his hair, the sound of his voice, the softness of his skin to my lips. What a beautiful, beautiful privelage it has been to be his mommy!

In loving memory of Cynthia Rae Owen (LeMaire). I am ever so glad that Owen is her namesake.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me a Match

Today my son regaled us with the tale of his sister's arranged marriage. Earlier in the day, my friend did a sweet favor by watching my son, Owen, so I could attend my daughter's assembly at school. It works out well this way as our children are about exactly the same age and each other's best friends, both the girls and boys respectively. Our daughters, Jenna and Claire, are 6 and 7, both in first grade, and both obsessed with princesses. Our sons, Owen and Camren, are 3 and 4, in preschool, and both quite interested in trains, cars and pretty much anything else that has wheels.

Back to the story.

At dinner Owen piped up, "Today Camren told me that he's going to marry Jenna and kiss her when he grows older." Then he proceeded to tell us about how he gave Camren his permission and was quite excited as he related the details. The crowning moment in the story was when he said that they were going to go to the doctor for the ceremony. Apparently, in his little 3 year old mind, the doctor is the one who does the wedding! On top of this, he said that Camren was going to take Jenna home and she was going to sleep-at this point, I thought he was going to say in Camren's bed, at which point I was going to be quite mortified, but luckily he didn't-in Claire's room. Wow. I'm not sure how in depth the conversation went from there, but needless to say, I had an impossibly hard time trying to hold my laughter in.

Later, after hearing the story, Jenna simply replied, "But I don't want to marry Camren, I'm going to marry my brother." She's been saying that since he was an infant. I mean fresh out of the womb. Someday we'll clear up the matter if need be, but for now their sweet innocence and love for one another are priceless. Especially in the midst of increasingly frequent bickering, teasing, fighting and colliding!

My kids kill me. That's all I have to say on the matter. Oh, and I LOVE them!

Look at my BIG Boy!

On Wednesday, September 3rd 2008, my son, Owen Hovet, became a man! Well, sort of. He may not have the bulk or the brawn as of yet, but he took his first step and abandoned his "Oweo" haircut...forever!

Ever since he was born, Owen's thing has always been his hair. He was born with a head full, even more than his sister! He has probably grown enough hair in his short 3 1/2 years to join the "Locks for Love" crew. And I have loved it. Secretly, I've always been proud that neither of my children have ever been bald! Like I had anything to do with it! But there it is, the cat's out of the bag!

What all began as a conversation asking a friend where she got her son's hair cut ended with my son being buzzed within an inch of his life! My kids and I were driving home when we passed the Barber Shop my friend suggested. I decided to swing by and see what the hours were, sure that it was closed. But it wasn't. We sat there for probably 20 minutes, during which I failed to demonstrate to my sweet, impressionable little ones the art of having patience when waiting your turn. We ended up leaving and, truthfully, I was a little relieved. I wasn't sure that I could say good-bye to my baby!

As we headed home, I began to think about my son's propensity for "baby talk." He picked it up again after he potty-trained. It seemed to me that he was quite reluctant to give up his baby ways. And I actually enjoyed it to some extent because I've been so unsure about having a 3rd that I wanted to hold on to Owen's babyhood. My pondering resulted in my decision to take his hair into my own hands!

I put my daughter to bed and had a date with my son and some scissors. I stood there while he watched Arthur for about 15 minutes, so afraid to let go of his gorgeous locks. I started by cutting with scissors, but after a bit, I went for it! I pulled out the clippers, stuck on the #3, and off it came! By the end, I was loving it! In less than 20 minutes, my son went from "mop-top" to "buzz-head."

The result has impacted more than Owen's appearance. He is jumping higher, running faster, and taking chances in ways he has never done before. His alter-ego has been released. Destructo-kid is here! And while it isn't always easy, I love my BIG boy. Oh-and the baby-talk is history. He will always be Mama's boy, but he is now firmly planted in his big boy shoes. And I have let go of my baby. Its high time!

Teenage Pregnancy and the White House

Senator Palin, McCain's newly announced running-mate, has announced that her 17 year old daughter is prego. Surpisingly (sense the sarcasm), McCain has declared that he and his crew were fully aware of the situation prior to their public endorsment of endorsments, in choosing Paulin as his Vice Presidential candidate. Of course you did...how could you not want to compromise your already feeble campaign against Obama? Give me a break. Just as Palin's own pregnancy came as a torrential surprise to her own constituents, this must be quite the blow to your brilliant plan, Mr. McCain. Time will tell what the American public feels regarding this situation. And we all know how forgiving the American public is...especially right-winged conservatives. Personally, I think Ms. Palin needs to be spending more time at home raising her children. She has five of them for heaven sake! What a mess...

Pomp & Circumstance

My daughter, at the tender age of six, has now accomplished an extraordinary feat...she has graduated from Kindergarten!

Okay, that's a bit of an overstatement! Its kindergarten after all! But we were quite proud. There was a little graduation ceremony and a big presentation of songs. Jenna was smack in the middle of the crowd and quite an entertainer. They must have sung 10-15 songs ranging from the hilarious "A-Tooty-Tat," booty shaking and all, to "What a Wonderful World." That one was precious and brought tears to my eyes. They are all so sweet and pure, untouched by the world as of yet, and they really do believe that the world is a wonderful place. Oh so tender is the age of six.

Its hard to believe that I'm the mother of a school-aged child. Our first year pretty much went off without a hitch and Jenna has herself a new bosom-buddy out of the deal!

Well, that's it.