Calling the Play

Owen went through a very brief, but hilarious phase in July: whenever he would make a request, it would be followed by a high-pitched imitation of me agreeing to whatever he was asking for. It's like he was feeding me my line. And he would have this real sweet smile on his face when he did it, just to help ensure that processing his request went as smoothly as possible. It reminded me of playing basketball, when someone hits the ball out of bounds and you automatically throw your arm out, helping the ref know (or giving him or her subconscious direction) that it's your team's possession.

Here is Owen's version of calling the play:

Trading Carolinas

Last July, Jean served as the official welcome chair upon our arrival to the great Palmetto State. I take that back: the welcoming started before our arrival with a postcard campaign depicting various beautiful SC destinations and announcing fun facts and state trivia. To top that off, she came to town to help us unpack boxes, assemble bookshelves, play with Owen, and maintain a general sense of joviality (sometimes a challenge when it's July in Charleston, all your earthly belongings are boxed up, you're chasing around a 9-month old who has just learned to walk, and you just left your beloved home of 6 years) during our first few days here. Over the past year, we've been to Hilton Head twice and Jean has been a regular visitor to Salisbury St.

But, alas, our same-state residency only overlapped one year, and before we could say "shrimp n' grits" a professional opportunity up and whisked Jean away to Raleigh, NC. Jean has been in Hilton Head for seven years, so it was one hell of an offer to be compelling enough to lure her away from us.

At the end of July, Jean came up for one last in-state visit. Here are Owen and Aunt Jean at Waterfront Park:

North Carolina will treat you right, I know. Always has.
And whenever you need to lay eyes on some palmettos or your nephew, just come on down. Your bed will be waiting.

Alex

We have a pretty good thing going here in Charleston. I am with Owen on Tuesdays and Fridays, and Bill and Owen are together on Thursdays. I know we have something rare, and I am grateful for it.

I am also grateful that when Bill and I both head off to work on Mondays and Wednesdays, Owen is in the care of his very special babysitter, Alex. Alex is in Charleston earning her Masters in Psychology at the Citadel. She is smart, silly, and safe, and I couldn't ask for anything more.

Alex first started taking care of Owen on February 1, 2010. During the first few months, we had a ritual where Alex would carry Owen to the garage to watch me pull away and he would be consoled/distracted by getting to push the button to close the garage door. Now when I leave, he takes a break from playing or reading with Alex to call out, "Bye Bye Mama!"

Alex leaves a note every day that tells about what she and Owen did, noteworthy things he said, books he liked, things he learned, funny things that happened, etc. I save all of these, of course.

When Owen was just learning to talk, he called her "GiGi" (pronounced "JiJi"). Now he calls her Alex (pronounced "Ay-eg"), but still sometimes says GiGi, as in "GiGi's wa-wa," when pointing to her morning Diet Coke. There has inevitably been confusion between this Alex and Owen's Uncle Alex, which is now resolved. I might think Owen is talking about Alex, and then he shakes his head to clarify and says, "UNCLE Ay-eg."

Owen talks about Alex all the time. When Bruno barks, he thinks she has arrived. ("Ay-eg's boo ca!" translation: "Alex's blue car!") When I ask him to guess who's coming over or what's going to happen, he says, "Boo?" followed by "Ay-eg?"

Here are a few pictures of the two of them from July (Alex was horrified that I was inspired to take photos on one of the few days that she was in sweats and no makeup, but she obliged...and she is lovely either way):
Lucky Owen. Lucky us.