Owen turns a year old on Friday. Think about that. One year ago, he came into the world, socks promptly placed upon his tiny hands so that he didn't scratch himself in his quiet slumber.
He's come a ways since then.
Walking remains an elusive but ever closer goal. He can stand unassisted for a while, although he only usually does so when distracted, as his awareness of his ability has not kept pace with the ability itself (despite his general track record for jumping first and asking questions when he gets around to it). When you hold his hands he will happily walk all over the house, and is more than capable of it when only one hand is held.
He is taller than our dining room table, which is awkward for him (as he can't stand under it anymore) and for us (as the range of things he can't reach continues to rise, and in some cases, contract).
He has almost all of his teeth. The top two molars are the final additions, and both of them are showing, although they are not yet fully deployed. He uses them with gusto, usually on food and occasionally, presumably accidentally, on his parents.
Talking is another skill he is working hard to develop. He listens and understands, and he can follow requests ("Come here, no, pick up your water and come here.") He can follow your questions and enthusiastically nod yes, or less often, happily shake his head no. He tries to shape words but they are only intermittently recognizable. He does have "da" and "ma" down for dad and mom, and a very enthusiastic "YUM" for food, and the enjoyment thereof.
He knows how to wave and does so when someone is leaving. He figured out how to clap a week or two ago, and did so quite often for a stretch, obviously pleased with himself. Shortly after clapping was his first successful high five, although conducting that venerable act of approval and fellowship on demand remains an elusive goal.
He knows well the word no, and usually listens to it, albeit not usually for long, due to his short attention span. He knows not to go in the bathroom and is usually fairly circumspect about pushing that boundary. He knows to be careful around the top of the stairs, to the point that we can leave the baby gate away when we need to move things downstairs, secure in the knowledge that he knows enough to be careful about it. When he has approached the top of the stairs in the past, he has flattened himself onto his belly and crept up to peer over the edge.
He can go up stairs confidently but hasn't figured out how to go down, not trusting our recommendations to go feet first.
He likes to play peekaboo. We played this game with him quite often, and he has since realized that he can initiate it, whether sitting on the far side of a hallway and ducking behind the door frame, or holding Cow over his face and giggling behind it at the deception. It's a fun game for him, one of his favourites, alongside tossing things behind him or away from himself.
He is also quite interested in sorting and placing; he will place objects on the floor, then move them to a table, then onto a box, then back to the floor. In the bath (and he loves the bath, continuing to play well after all the water is gone) he likes to put all the bath toy animals into his jug, then pulling them out again, then back in. (Bath time is also a time for enthusiastic splashing, cloth-assisted when possible.)
Bedtime means story time. He turns the pages himself, and shows every sign of delight at an old favourite. Goodnight Moon is the reigning champion these days. He likes to point to the objects on the page to which we are saying goodnight, or to which we will shortly be saying good night. Recently my lovely wife noticed him sitting on the floor with one of his books, flipping through the pages and telling himself a story, playing a game of reading to himself. I am pleased that he is learning to appreciate the virtues of a good book, even in advance of actual literacy.
When he goes to sleep it is usually precipitously. He will cry and talk and chatter, on and on, and then all of a sudden, silence, like someone has flipped the switch. He wakes up patient, willing to wait until the usual time mom and dad get up, but no longer than that, because he is a busy little man with a great deal to get done, mostly involving finding things and putting them into his mouth, and time waits for no little man.
In other news, house listed on Monday. Showings Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday x2. Conditional offer going out on the new place. After a long period of cleaning and packing in which nothing seemed to advance and we never seemed to get anywhere, everything is suddenly happening all at once. We are very much looking forward to being done with all of this and moved into the new place. Uncertainty regarding my living conditions gives me stomach aches, but it's all for a good cause. Owen won't remember any of this, of course; this house will just be pictures to him, the next one will be the house he grew up in and, one day, will leave behind. But this will always be the house he came home to, tiny and pink and solemn, with socks upon his hands.
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