Is Dirt Dirty?

From the mouths of babes:

[Int. Car on the way home from school & work]

Owen: Is it dirty?
Me: Is ‘what’ dirty?
Owen: Is it dirty?
Me: What? The dirt?
Owen: Yeah! Is the dirt dirty?
Me: Yes, Owen, the dirt is dirty.
Owen. Dirty dirt!
Me: Ha!
Owen: Dirt is dirty.
Me: Dirt *is* dirty.

And now you (and Owen) know.

On and Off

Owen has a very cute habit of extrapolating words or phrases, usually as a foil to something Jenn & I want him to do. Sayings that are in opposition of our desires and more representative of his own.

Two instances that have both happened this week deal with phrases we use that contain the word “on” and that he has adapted to use the word “off”

For example(s):

  • Jenn asks Owen to “hang on” to her hand as we cross the street and Owen requests to “hang off” once the crossing has been successful.
  • I told him I need him to “take off” his pajama shirt so I could dress him in his t-shirt for school and he informed me that he would be “taking it on” and refused to let me get him dressed.

What will that boy think of next? Stay tuned in (out?)


Ficly Friday: Hello, Moon

I spent part of the early afternoon hanging out with Owen, missing tooth and all.

I didn’t spend nearly enough time with him and he cried when I left, inconsolable. He wouldn’t lay down and go to sleep. He only wanted me to read to him, to tell him a story, to tickle his back.

I’d read him a book by Margaret Wise Brown – she of “Goodnight Moon” fame – and it sparked my imagination.

Today’s Ficly Friday entry, “Hello, Moon“, is hardly a story. It’s a poor excuse for a poem. It says some things I’d like to say better and it plays at the form I’d like some of my writing to take.

I like the form (personally) but not the overall function (effect).

I hope you enjoy it. Leave me a comment, here or there.

Owen’s Ouchy

It’s not often as a parent that you experience a feeling of monumental dread or fear.

I’ve already been there twice in Owen’s lifetime.

To expound: last night Owen lost a tooth, his first.

In and of itself, a child loosing a tooth isn’t much of a story. It’s of an order of magnitude akin to “dog bites man” or “water: still wet”.

The major difference in this case being Owen is only newly Two years old this month and he lost the tooth by falling and striking his mouth on an Adirondack chair in our living room.

It was one of those moments when all the air seemed to suck right out of the room and the silence took on a character all its own. After the initial shock and awe, blood rushed out of his head like a faucet and he screamed (bloody, obviously) murder.

We found the tooth next to the chair and consulted with no less than 4 nurses (two in the family and two over the phone) only to discover that so-called “baby teeth” are irreplaceable. Let that double entendre sink in for just a minute; it hurts.

Jenn set about weeping that we’d have nothing but gap-toothed pictures of our son for the next 4 – 6 years, Raelyn kept a very cool head, my father-in-law Marty applied pressure and consoled the wounded (both physically and emotionally) while I got the Advil ready.

A groggy (and sanguine) good-night, a mid-night wake-up to ensure no head injuries and a morning trip to the pediatric dentist all confirm: the tooth exited cleanly and won’t be going back in today or any other day. We’re now on the anxious countdown to somewhere shy of age 8 when, they tell us, we cannot expect Owen to generate a replacement (adult) tooth.

I saw it on the x-ray, but they assure me it’s nowhere near ready to make a public appearance.

So I’m typing this while Jenn, Rae and Owen rest. It’s been a busy 18 – 20 hours and they were all quite tired. Owen earned rave reviews for his demeanor getting x-rayed, poked, prodded and weighed. He even got a compliment on his diction/vocabulary, all despite a man down, dentally speaking.

Some day we’ll get Owen a bridge or something to mask the wholeness of the hole, but right now he looks like he lost a fight with a toddler bully.

I’m just happy everyone is safe and sound. So much worse could have come from that very innocent fall – he was just jumping around and hitting a beach ball after all.

Hug your kids.
Love your kids.
Take pictures of kids while they (and you) still have all your teeth.

Oh, and the first time I got that horrible feeling of dread: when Owen was delivered and the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck three times.

This was so much easier than that, if potentially longer lasting.

Until tomorrow, stay safe kids.

Weekly Recap

In an effort to put something family-focused on the blog with some degree of regularity, I’m going to start a new weekly feature here, a “weekly recap” post.

I’ll collect and connect some of the random Twitter messages and pictures along with some of the shorter, funnier anecdotes from the kiddies and try to develop a cohesive narrative.

Failing that I’ll just blockquote something from a song, add a wistful *sigh* and end with an iPhone picture of my backyard.


Here goes:

The big developments of the week were our trips (plural) to the dentist. I had to get some cavities (plural. again.) filled and Raelyn had her 6-month check-up.

Here’s the photographic evidence (non-gory) of my experience:

"The goggles do nothing!"
The goggles do nothing!
A god-damned sexual Tyrannosaurus
A god-damned sexual Tyrannosaurus

Jesse Ventura approves, by the way.

Raelyn’s visit featured a distinct lack of crying. No tears or complaints about x-rays, cleaning or fluoride. We’ve either turned a corner, dodged a bullet or turned a corner to dodge a bullet.

She did find out that two of her teeth were loose (how could she not know?) and saw the x-ray evidence of new teeth yearning to breath free. We had to make four separate phone calls to let grandparents and uncles share her surprise.

Here she is spreading the joy:

Raelyn on the phone

Then there’s Owen. This week, on the ride home from work, we did our best Bugs & Daffy impression while reading a book.

Owen: It’s a cow!
Me: It’s a sheep!
Owen: It’s a cow!
Me: It’s a sheep!
Owen: It’s a cow!
Me: It’s a cow!
Owen: It’s a sheep!

And of course the love of my life, Jenn, is doing well. She’s continually reminding me of all the reasons why I married her: her wit, her charm, her humor & love in the face of adversity. Oh, and her willingness to lounge on our back porch after work and drink a beer while the kids play.

Loving everyone (even you) this Friday. See you next week!