Owen Turns 2!

Dear Owen-

You are two.

It’s hard to believe, but you’ve been in our lives for two whole years. I pretend like that’s not the case. I still call you baby O or baby Owen or wittle Owenen. I still cradle you like an infant when you’ll let me and reflect on the moments when you were something like 6 months old and would fall asleep in the crook of my arm every night. I sometimes wish I could have those moments back.

I can’t even begin to describe how much we love you. How you complement our family as though the moments before you were nothing more than incomplete. You are the yin to Collin’s yang, the household gag reel, the cozy, comfy warm spot in my bed. To me, in so many ways, you personify love. You radiate it. I don’t know how else to explain the pure joy that comes from you. Its your own personal aura and we’re so lucky to experience it.

During your first year I panicked a lot. Really a lot. I wrongfully compared and contrasted. I worried that you didn’t get enough attention, enough words, enough exercise. The list goes on. You probably didn’t. But, now, today, I’m okay with that. Because you are simply amazing in my eyes.

At two you are using funny three and sometimes four word sentences, with very common two word phrases. Pick up, pwease!; Momma, raisins, pwease. Daddy, bwess you. Pway next, cow-win?, Mmmm, mwilk. Four word sentences come at our insistence: Owen say please and use your words- “Pwease mwilk in cup!”

You snort like a pig often. You insert random animal sounds in everyday conversation. You like to give kisses on the cheek- which I cannot get enough of. You are so worried about me. You try to protect me which is SO stinkin’ cute I can barely stand it. If a loud firetruck goes by, you reach out to me and cover my ears. If I say “ow!” you come over and say “Momma, hug!” and give me a tight wonderful “I will make it all better” hug.

You are built to wrestle, which you do with reckless abandon. You often bike fabrics like a puppy playing tug of war, except its usually a couch pillow and I’m usually not willing to play along. You tackle Collin with intention as though you are getting back for every moment he took advantage of your little-ness in the year past. You are not so little anymore.  This part hurts my heart. I can feel it ache in a way that hopes to hold on to the baby in you. I adore your clever innocence so very much. I hate to see it slip away.

You count to 10, sometimes 12 if you are feeling ambitious. You can sing-song your ABCs, you know lots of animals, sounds and have too many trains to count because you love them. You can spell your name: O-W-E-N!!!. It’s adorable and I should pinch myself 10 times as punishment for not having it recorded somewhere yet.

There are things you don’t do too: you can’t seem to get your colors straight and I wonder time and again if you are color blind or something. You knew blue, then seem to have forgotten it. Went on to pink and knew that for a bit, but now call lots of things pink. You consistently know yellow and sometimes green, but rarely red and brown. It’s a round robin game where I teach one color, think you have it, move on to the next, then go back to review the first color and see that you seem to have lost it. If you were my first child I probably would have stressed about that. I don’t stress anymore. You will learn your colors when you are ready to. I will keep giving you stimulating experiences and you will keep sucking them up.

Some animals seem hard for you to remember. You like to think hippos and rhinnos are bears. You sometimes call zebras horses. It’s all fun for you. I don’t mind one little bit.

At this age I was really starting to inundate Collin with word patterns. Rhyming was huge. I labeled rhymes like a mad woman. He can rhyme with the best of them. There are moments that I think, now if I would have been more intentional about words with Owen he would be ready for that now too. I could have made him out to be as receptive as Collin was to language. But quickly, and I mean really quickly, I forget those thoughts. I honestly don’t care that you aren’t rhyming. You are Owen. Uniquely Owen and you will Rhyme eventually. It will be fine. Instead I focus on the things you can do that Collin didn’t at this age.

You can sit independently and do a task for 5 to 10 minutes with just little bits of guidance. You like puzzles and play-dough. You love to paint (which is fantastic, because your brother didn’t). You’ll do art for 5 minutes straight. I love that. You hammer in nails and love to write. Your fine motor skills are pretty stinkin’ good. You’ve used a fork (when you are feeling like it and not being stubborn and resistant just to spite me!) for awhile now, maybe since you were 18 months or so. You drink from a cup, and you, my dear sweet Owen, are potty trained.

Well for the most part. You still can’t hold it overnight very well and at nap, but otherwise you’re pretty much good to go if we remind you to go to the bathroom.

At 2 you know how to scale your crib to get out, but don’t do it very often. Instead you stand there and yell “Potty momma!” until I come get you. You adore playing with Collin, but still don’t have all the words to tell him you want the toy he has or you aren’t interested in sharing, so there is a lot of whines and yells between you and your desires. We work on it every day though and soon enough we’ll hear you say, “collin, can I have it next pwease?”

You are an animal. A crazy, effervescent, animal. You scale everything. You toss things to see where they’ll land. You kick snow and sand and push shovels because they are fun things to do. You love all things construction. Diggers. Bulldozers (which you call –ul DOZER), stid steers (skid steer) are all highlights in your life.

You truly enjoy books. You love curious George. You adore him actually. We must read something or play with something curious George nearly every other day. Its very fitting though,  as a curious monkey.

And you are sweet. Maybe the sweetest boy I know. Without fail everyday you deliver sweet, deep, fulfilling hugs. The kind that warm my heart instantly. When I get home you say “momma!” and run to me. You’re always so anxious to get into my arms that you often try to take my shoes off for me so that you can be one moment closer to being picked up. Your love is bubbly and unlimited, you are passionate and strong willed, but so very caring and genuine. I love you so much.

You have time outs. Probably once a day or so now. You test. A lot. You throw food off the table, which irks me, but is so fun for you. We’re working on saying “all done” instead of throwing food off the table. It’s a challenge, but I’m learning and so are you.

And so, you see, its true. You are amazing.

I do remember the days when I thought there would never be enough for you. That I would not have enough time to give the attention to you that you deserve, or the skill to get you on track with literacy and math and such. Or that there wouldn’t be enough opportunities to teach you specific skills in a way that was more than observation, trial and error. But, now, its doesn’t matter, because the one thing there was always enough of is LOVE. And that will make up for everything else.

I read once that the best thing you can give a child is a sibling. I’m starting to see how true that really is and its really related to the enough love thing. For every moment that my heart sunk that you were crying and I couldn't get to you when you were little because I was with Collin, or for every conversation I didn't have with you at 6 or 8 or 9 months, there are hundreds of moments now where you are at such an advantage to have a big brother. To learn from him, to play with, to be partners in crime and hand in hand for life. You get a buddy for this journey, which in so remarkable.

At two, it’s very evident you two are now on a path together. You’ve caught up enough that Collin sees you as a peer (if a young one) and he’s helping you to learn new things and you’re helping him to understand the nature of two. Of working together as a team. Of understanding and appreciating others’ needs and wants. It’s a little bit magical.

So, with every ounce of love in me, we jump for joy that you are two now Owen. What a wonderful experience it has been. I wonder who you will be at 3 and how you will change, but I am not anxious. I will carefully hold on to the moments I have with 2.

You’re only here for a moment, and I don’t want to blink and miss all the magic and wonder you have to offer.

Happy birthday baby boy.

We love you with all our hearts.

Momma & Daddy

Quilting: Part 2

In that very long list of things that we’re attempting to juggle and complete as semi-sane parents, there is a tiny, and often pushed-to-the side item called “quilting”.

If you know me well, you’ve probably noticed that the older I’ve gotten, the more perseverance I’ve developed and stubborn I’ve become. As a result, there are very few things I give up on. I muster through, I teach myself, I find two more hours in the night when its already 2 am. I just do these things. Its sort of like self-inflicted psychosis, but that’s just me, I guess.

Anyway, one of the products of these neuroses is my inability to let the quilt get off my radar. Its always there enough to make me feel guilty (because originally it was intended for Owen’s birth). I age it with Owen- so the quilt project has been going on for a little over 2 years probably.

The thing is, I actually like the art of top quilting- the part where you sew the pieces together. Its just all the stupid logistics that get in the way. The pre-work is pretty awful too. All that cutting, prepping, basting etc. I totally bit off more than I could chew when I took this on, but I’m learning.

So, as I mentioned, I’m at the stage where you actually sew the pieces together. You might remember that I chose to do a hexagon quilt, which are beautiful, but NOT smart for a first time quilt. Each piece has six sides, with six unique angles that have to match up to other pieces in the quilt. NOT EASY TO DO.

So, once I was in over my head, with no reasonable way to turn back (remember, I have these neurotic tendencies to push through and keep with things), I decided to try to find the method that would be easiest.

I did find a nice tutorial for sewing together hexies once you piece them on their sides. The woman in the video makes it look like she’s eating a chocolate bar with one hand and sewing, effortlessly with the other. It looks that easy. So I thought- YES. This is the way I will do it. (you can see that video if you search quilting part 1 in my blog).

As it turns out though, that woman is VERY talented. I like give her a medal talented.

Here’s how my version went.

After all my hexies were perfectly pressed, my design organized, and ready, I assembled them together on the vertical axes. I made a nice long row of 24 hexies together. It was very pretty. I left room to attach the off-side angles and was pleasantly surprised with the ease of it all and very pleased. The wax paper (see part 1) made for a great guide and I had nice rows. My vertical lines will always look very nice in the first four rows of my quilt.

You might ask then, well, whats the trouble? Why only the first four rows of your quilt.

Well, the trouble arises, when you have two beautiful rows of 24 and you try to attach them on the off angles. The idea is that each will line up perfectly with the other and you can easily sew perfect 35 degree lines. But, my hexies, beautiful individually, were not made with a machine. I ironed each one with a template. And even with a template, I could have never been perfect with each on 100% of the time. So, when I laid them together they lined up for the most part, but NOT perfectly. Hmmm. I sensed conflict in my future.

I brushed it aside. A little give and take is fine in a quilt. I wasn’t submitting this thing to the state fair. I just wanted something to give Owen before he gets married or something.

I started sewing, and found now my little wax paper guides were useless and even burdensome. The lines that they created (via my iron, previously identified as the line to sew on) were wrong. Incorrect. The folds needed to be adjusted to make up for my “give and take” so that the pieces would align. Ugh.

 

(These are rows 1-4- some of them don't even look like hexagons! Others you can see clearly the pulls (check out the blue ones in the first photo and the green ones in the second. Also, sorry for the yellow cast, I didn't check the white balance on the camera before taking these photos).

But, the worst kicker of the whole situation was that instead of piecing the hexagons one and a time and only having to deal with three sides lining up, I had 24 hexies with two open sides each that need to line up. So I had to make sure that each tiny needle strong lined up perfectly or all 48 sides would be off.

This was a NIGHTMARE.

There is a lot of puckering in my lovely first four rows. There are some hexagons that don’t look like hexagons anymore. There are some interesting angles and some pulled fabrics that were ironed flat to preserve my sanity.

Quilting, my friends, is HARD!

But, alas, if you squinted at it from far away, it sort of looked pretty. I had made it to four rows, I didn’t want to stop now. And who cares! It will be a great story for Owen- “Dear Owen, this was my very first quilt. Its horrible. But I wanted to make it so badly for you that I couldn’t give up.”

See, doesn’t that sound sweet and endearing?

Well, okay. It probably doesn’t. Just pretend along with me for a few more minutes.

I reasoned though that people make quilts all the time an that there had to be a better way for novices to do hexies.

And its true there is a much better way: one at a time.

 

(These are the next two rows. Much better! Enjoy the open seams on the sides- those will be connected to other hexies).

On the fifth row I lined up it with the six and didn’t sew any sides. I just laid out the pattern and then started sewing one to each other. This was great. There weren’t 48 ridiculous sides screaming to align with each other, and the three I had to deal with were totally manageable. On top of that, the wax paper returned to its former glory of being a fantastic guide, so I could easily line up the edges, sew and rip out the paper. Perfection.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I still have some puckering here and there (corners are hard to line up!) and sometimes I sew the wrong pieces together and have to pull the seams and start over, but overall, its much much much better. I’m actually even looking forward to rows 7 and 8.  Pretty soon I’ll be halfway there, at 12!

So, for all you quilting newbies out there looking for advice: I sagely recommend to learn from an expert. Do not go it alone and NEVER start with a hexagon quilt. 

The roof is on....

Well, its not on fire. So thats good.

But it is missing.

Here we are after Christmas break taking a look at the house again. Lots of fun progress was made. Ready? Here we go!

 Here we are in the basement, sans the walls. You can see the washer in the corner, which we still use every single day by hauling our laundry back to the house. Fun times!

 View from the other side of the basement. Magically the bathroom has entirely disappeared!

 This used to be my favorite yellow room. Not so much any more.

 On to the main floor. This is standing in the kitchen corner, looking straight across to the other side of the house. They've taken out the whole bathroom and all the inbetween walls (hallway, etc.) That far window used to be in Owen's room.

 Looking from the old kitchen across the stair space into the old living room (which will soon be the new office).

 Back in the basement, looking at where the entry into the new basement is, the pink part is in front of what will be the opening. See the lovely 2x4s holding it up?

 Back on the main floor again (sorry for the flip flopping)- this is the one room that stays put generally. Its Collin's old room. The door will move though.

 Here's a view of the other side of the kitchen. It looks big now. Really it was UBER tiny.

 Thats the window to our former bathroom. Soon this whole wall will be gone.

 Here's the stairs to our old room. That sheet of plywood blocks to upstairs entry in a fairly dismal attempt to keep the little bit of protection on the main floor that we can, given there is a HUGE HOLE in the upstairs (you'll see that in a minute).

 Onward to the upstairs. Up, up you go into our old room. Look, a lovely space for a bed, and WOOPS a missing wall! Giant HOLE!. This is where the new window set will go with the main stairs.

 Same view, but this time from inside the bridge to the new addition/garage.

 Here's the reverse view, standing over by the window and looking toward the bridge.

 Looking out the giant hole. It frames up the salstrom's house nicely, don't you think?

 And here we are looking out the back of the house. If you look closely you can see a doorway on the left- this is to the bedroom above the kitchen. You can also see a little space to the right of the door- this will be the opening over the living room.

 Here's a closer look at where the balcony/look over onto the living room will be.

 Heres the door to the bedroom above the kitchen.

 Standing in that bedroom looking down on the living room. This view will be the view from the balcony in that bedroom with the old-style barn doors.

 And here's the window in that bedroom looking on the backyard.

 We're back on the bridge now. These are the windows on both sides of the bridge.

 And magically, now we are back in the bedroom above the kitchen. This time standing near the window looking back at the door.

 

 Transport to the newest adition. Here's the door to the nursery.

 Looking from the nursery down the hall to our bedroom.

 This is the bridge again, from the nursery side looking all the way across. That space will mostly be place space for the boys.

 Nursery again.

 Back side of the house. You can see the shingles are on over the mudroom and you can see the bridge windows at the top of the mudroom roof.

 Here's our room again with our fun vaulted ceiling.

 This my friends, is my lovely walk in closet. I love it already.

 The other side of our room.

 This is a view of the bedroom over the kitchen (with kitchen below) taken from the far corner of what used to be our bedroom.

 Looking down into the living room.

 Where old meets new. This is a profile view of the back hole in the house.

 The new front door and bridge above it. There will be a little roof over the front door eventually.

 A house, with a gaping hole in it.

 It looks like someone dropped a wrecking ball right over the door.  You can practically see the dollars floating away with all the heat escaping that house! Thats right, we have to heat the house because we can't let the pipes freeze. Granted, its at something like 50 degrees, but still, its bleeding heat when its all of 2 degrees outside.

 Another backside view.

 Standing in the living room.

 Standing in the mudroom.

 Kitchen. Lovely fun kitchen.

And again, the roof is not on. Not on fire. Not even here. Its gone.

But something better is coming, I promise!

To be continued!