200th Post

I had this grand idea for your 200th post but it looks like it will have to wait another week. My laptop is still down and A LOT of pictures sit on my SD card waiting to be edited, posted, and adored :)

I have been INCREDIBLY sensitive lately. One may chalk it up to pregnancy hormones, but I know it is so much more than that. It is about the way you change from day to day. It is about this temper tantrum I envision throwing every day when I have to leave you to go to work. The way I want to flap my arms and stomp my feet and yell at Mr. Time for moving too quickly. I want to order him to stop. LEAVE OWEN JUST LIKE THIS! But you keep growing and I somehow manage to love ever.single.new thing you do. It is about the insurmountable fear I have about missing time with you while I care for your sister. It is about how beautiful life is and how I wish I could squeeze the sun's rays into 2 glasses and CHEERS with you and drink it up until our souls (and bellies) are swollen with joy and love and pure, honest, goodness.

You march in place. Daddy and I end up in tears because we laugh so hard when you do this. Sometimes you march fast, sometimes slow, and sometimes in a little circle like you are dancing. It is done BEST when you wear only a t shirt, diaper, and socks...early in the morning.

Your whole face smiles. Not only do your lips curve up, but your cheeks dimple and crease. Your eyes hide behind these lumps. Your teeth even smile, somehow. Your eyebrows strain to meet your hairline. Your throat opens and releases the sweetest laugh I have ever heard.

You are strong. Nana Kathy had to buy you soft balls to throw because you were hurting the kids and coming too close to damaging her house, windows, and sliding glass door.

You love other kids. We had church friends over on Sunday and you played with their babes SO well. At 3 yrs old and 10 months old you enjoyed following the older girl while showing off for the little boy. If chasing someone and getting chased were an Olympic sport you would have a gold medal.

You love donuts. You ate an entire cinnamon and sugar donut by yourself, BY yourself, for lunch on Saturday at the apple orchard. I have pictures. Lots of them. I wish I could have videotaped the MMMMMMmmmmm sounds you made or the OOOOOOooooos you explained and asked while we checked out all the little buildings.

I love sleeping with you. I don't do it often but some nights you have a nightmare and I dont want to make you go back down on your own. Half of the time I'm sure you'd be fine. Last night I think you couldnt find your pacifier and instead of squeezing my belly up and over the crib to look for it in the dark at 2 am, I decided I would much rather take you to bed and snuggle with you. Snuggling usually means you tossing and turning and sleeping horizontally across your dad and me. Then I quit and take you back to bed. But not last night. Last night we cuddled REAL good :) We snuggled so good you didnt even look for your pacifier. You scooted your little tush into my belly and I rested my head on your back and wrapped my arms around you. Warm. Fleece. Baby's skin. Soft breath. Flushed cheeks. Long eyelashes. Dimples hands. Your heart beat lulled me into the sweetest sleep I have had in a long time. This morning I pretended to sleep as your dad snuggled closer to you and kissed you. He kept saying that we needed to get up, but no one moved for a long time. But, in true Owen form, you woke up and pined for mom. I held you on my hip while my belly rested on the counter and my left hand got my contacts in. In a few minutes my sleepy, warm babe was up and running. Literally. And marching.


love, mom