Breakfast with Poppie

On our last morning in Chapel Hill at the end of July, I came downstairs and stumbled upon this scene:
This was a noteworthy thing to come upon for several reasons. First, Poppie is a man who loves his sleep and doesn't take kindly to mornings. It was also a Tuesday, so he had to go to work, which usually means dashing off in a hurry. BUT instead he had set his alarm and woken up EARLY (these pictures were taken around 7:00am) to enjoy a leisurely breakfast with Owen before he left.

They shared a bowl of cereal and Poppie even sliced up a plate of strawberries. Impressive. (As I inherited Poppie's difficulty with mornings, I am the first person to applaud such evidence of having your wits about you before you can even cast a shadow):
This is the face Poppie makes when something tastes good. He is going, "MMMMMM!!!" and Owen is watching and enjoying his every move.
See you next time, Poppie!

The Reservation

While in the upper Carolina at the end of July, we paid a visit to Grama and Papa at "the Reservation." Since moving there seven years ago, Papa re-named Croasdaile the Reservation, because... well, because that's just how he does. Most people or things in Papa's orbit get re-named: Marsh and I are "Priss" (or Priss I and Priss II, in official terms), Helen is "Luvenia," Alex is "Leroy," Owen is "Kilroy." Even Megan has always been "Magnum." A given name is just a starting point really, a ball of fresh Play-doh that Papa picks up, reshapes, and then sets down, saying, "There. Now that's better."

Here is Papa escorting Owen down the hallway - in Papa's right hand, he is carrying a gift bag from Nana to Owen, which turned out to be a wonderful source of entertainment for our visit:
Inside Nana's gift bag was an assortment of wonderful puzzles that she had dropped off as a surprise for Owen that weekend (that Nana is always thinking up fun and thoughtful things such as this). Owen and Grama proceeded to open and play with the puzzles, and this most delightful series of photographs resulted - I love every one of these so much that I have to include all of them:
Look at Grama's face in the one below. THAT is the essence of Grama Hazel, right there.
Owen was just smitten with her:
Here, he spontaneously dives on her for a hug:
Good friends:
And here are Papa and Owen working on another one of the puzzles:
Aunt Marsh and Owen:The gang:
Until next time: we won't take any wooden nickels, we'll keep our powder dry, and we'll keep our finger on the trigger and our eye on the hog.

Hotter than July

On our trip to Chapel Hill at the end of July, we paid a visit to Megan and Monty. It was hot hot hot, so Megan suggested that we all go outside and play in the sprinkler - an excellent idea.

Some documentation:

Big Brother(s)

On July 24, I woke up feeling rather strange. For the past week, I had barely been able to finish my workouts, but I figured it was because CrossFit - my gym - was not air conditioned, and, hey, it was July in Charleston after all. I also just felt different. I had taken a pregnancy test a few days prior, but it was negative.

At about 7:00am on that Saturday morning, I woke Bill up with a request to please go out and purchase another box of pregnancy tests (the one I had taken had been the last one I had - the one leftover from the box of two that I used to find out I was pregnant with Owen!). He thought I was joking, and I assured him I wasn't. He suggested waiting on this errand (ha ha ha), but Owen and I were supposed to be leaving town to go to Chapel Hill in just a few hours, and Bill was getting on a flight to DC the next day. We wouldn't see each other for a week, and I insisted that this kind of news can't wait.

My fine, fine man of a husband got up, got dressed, and headed to the store. At the store, he said he thought about what other purchase would go best with a pregnancy test, and he decided on a glazed doughnut. After ringing him up, the woman at the checkout said, "Good luck!" Bill thought that was the perfect thing to say, because it really worked no matter which way you were hoping things went.

And indeed things went exactly the way we were hoping. I walked out into the kitchen in a state of disbelief holding our positive pregnancy test. We hugged, we marveled, and we celebrated a new life on the way. Then we asked Owen if he wanted to be a big brother. "Yeah," he confidently replied. "A baby is coming, Owen," we told him, and he responded with, "Baby coming! Two babies!" (Bill and I then looked nervously at each other wondering what if Owen just correctly predicted twins...) And all of this before 8:00 am.

Bill snapped some photos of Owen and me and our amazing double-pink-lined proof that another creature would be joining us.
Our furry firstborn creature, already a big brother, was skeptical about the news; the attention is already spread pretty thin around here for his liking. But he thinks - even for all the agony it put him through - he has wound up getting lots of hugs and LOTS of snacks from Owen, so he's going with it.
One baby (not two) will be joining the Hunt-Russell household on or around April 5, 2011. Exactly two and a half years after Owen's due date. And since Owen was four days late, it might be more like April 9.

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.

Fourth of July

For the 4th of July, we headed up to Fleetwood, NC, with Seth, Anne, Daniel, and Jon Rick to spend the long weekend together in Seth's parents' beautiful mountain house.

Owen and Daniel are good friends. They share a mutual admiration, which is a joy to behold:

We went for walks (bonus: getting to pass by an excavator):

We played in the lake and in the gazebo by the lake:
And we played on the back deck:

Mama / Aunt Lauren even let the boys get into the dog bowls.

Watch here as Owen sets a wonderful example for Daniel:
Oh yeah, and we had some wonderful "adult" (I use that term loosely) time, too. We celebrated our independence by cooking, eating, drinking, playing the uke, singing, and staying up late talking:

Happy Birthday, America! And Happy Weekend, Us!

Dancing with Dada

On the Bus

One Friday at the end of June, Boo and I took Owen to the Aquarium. But we never actually made it inside.

Instead, there were tons of steps and ramps to climb:
Fields to run through:
And then, THEN, this happened:


Owen, upon witnessing a school bus pull up outside the Aquarium to drop off a school group, broke into song ("Wheels on the Bus" obv.) and began to jog toward it. When we got close enough, he goes "Ooooooooooooooh" (which is apparently what I say when I see something good).

The bus driver was kind enough to let us get on the bus for one hot second before she had to leave (Owen's first time on a school bus...he's nowhere near the 1st grade and it was still a moment for me).

And then, as if that weren't exciting enough, when the bus left a trolley pulled up. And the trolley driver was also nice enough to let us get on (it's the South, people).

Owen was so excited, I thought his head might pop off:Now THAT is a good day.

(For some, the phrase "On the Bus" might bring the Grateful Dead to mind. R.I.P. Jerry: August 1, 1942 – August 9, 1995)