First things first, we cordially welcome Sir Shepherd Owen Smith (great middle name) into the world as of today. Congratulations Smith Family!
In other news, Owen can walk. Surprise! A few days ago, I was going to post a video of him walking with his walker, but it seems a bit anti-climatic now that he can take steps without it. Well, shoot, I'll do it anyway. Consider this your appetizer:
Three days ago, Zach and I were unpacking some groceries while Owen cruised around his Jumperoo in the middle of the kitchen (he prefers to walk around the outside of it now, rather than be trapped in it). Next thing I know, he's holding onto a chair at the kitchen table, which is three feet away. "Did you move him there?" I asked Zach. He hadn't. "Can he walk?" I asked Zach. He didn't know. So we tried it.
Owen walked four steps to me. It's like he's known how to do it for a while and we just haven't give him the opportunity. I guess you start walking early when you refuse to crawl. So he's been taking four or five steps here or there ever since. Since I always catch him when he starts falling, now he often just dives headfirst towards me--while laughing hysterically--rather than trying to walk. Anyway, be prepared for another video shortly (once I take it).
One of the best things about being a mother is that I am slightly less crazier in the view of the outside world. If you see me in the supermarket, hiking around the ranch, or just driving in my car, you'll see me talking to my baby. "How sweet," you think, "that mommy is teaching her baby his colors, or animal noises."
Suckers. It's all a ploy. I talked to myself just as much before, but now I have an audience. And he can't say, "Mom, really. That's quite enough." Sure, he can cry or go to sleep, but that doesn't matter to me. There's still a warm little body present who I may or may not be addressing.
This realization came to me today, as Owen and I sat on a swing together at a beautiful park on a hill. The sun was setting and it almost felt like autumn as the temperature started to drop. I was telling Owen what we were going to do next (pick up Daddy), what we were having for dinner (beef stroganoff), and what I thought of our new neighbor (potential mom-friend, booyah). Then I saw this teenage girl coming up the hill behind us with her dog. No doubt she thought me crazy (lone woman, creaking swing, dusk approaching, jumbled muttering) until she crossed in front and noticed the babe. Who's crazy now random teenage girl? Still me, I think.
Added bonus to being a mom: dressing in semi-matching outfits.
Happy Halloween, everyone! Don't worry, nothing wordy this time. Here are a few pictures from our Halloween festivities.
Time for some carving.
Zach's coyote
The finished pumpkins in front of the house Since it was hot and sunny, we went to a fall festival, outdoor mall and a park. Owen loved the swings (of course) and the ducks. Then it was the ole "keep the baby up as long as possible because of Fall Back" trick. He didn't mind so much.
I had an unexpected awkward moment as we filled out the lease for our townhome.
Name: no problem. Social Security Number: check. Occupation: Hmmm.
Seriously, I felt like Derek Zoolander, looking at the stars and asking, ”Who am I?” (Too obscure of a reference?) When I was in elementary school, kids would ask what my mom did, and I always said, “Homemaker.” That has a nice ring to it. Certainly better than “housewife.” Ugh. “Yes, I’m his wife; when he’s in the house at least.”
But the real work is in caring for the child, so it should be stay-at-home-mom or some other mouthful of a title. Residential mother? Owen’s caretaker? I could be really obnoxious and list a bunch of titles: “housekeeper-breastfeeder-photographer-butt wiper-lullaby singer-baby food maker-hand holder-clothes washer-locomotion trainer…” There’s more, of course, but I have to stop before I become overwhelmed and need to go do something productive. And how do you put a name to all of the other little things? Like how my huge Swedish chin is apparently the perfect teething ring? Shouldn’t that be recognized in my occupation? Or do I just write “None?” No, that can’t be it.
I should have quoted Proverbs: “She watches over the affairs of her household.” Or borrowed from Wordsworth, “She was a woman of a stirring life, whose heart was in her house.” I think I just put “homemaker.”
The next box on the lease application was Salary. I told Zach I would put, “With what currency should I measure love?” But really, how am I repaid? What is the retribution for the “menial” and nearly unnoticeable tasks I complete every single day? For the sometimes demeaning and frustrating moments of the day? Could it be the building of my son’s trust and affection? The surety and confidence that he is being cared for to the very best of my ability must carry some weight. I get to be there for almost every moment of his life and watch him grow and change. I try to keep a clean, pleasant home for my husband and make sure he's well-fed. And my gosh, I'm so happy and blessed. So, you tell me to what that equates. As for the lease form, I just put a dash.
Today my baby is nine months. Owen and I decided to celebrate his birthday in style; we faced down a coyote. We went for a walk along a new path that leads up to the solar panels at the ranch. It was a long, uphill walk and about halfway into it, I look up to see a coyote 15 feet away from us. He was walking perpendicular to the road we were on, and heading to a point of convergence. The coyote was eying us, big time. This wasn't like the little fox-sized creature I had been picturing when we hear them howling at night, this was like the wolf straight out of Ladyhawk. I kicked into high gear and considered my survival options. Think Anna, think. Make myself look big? Loud noises? Wave my white shirt in the air? Hit him with the pepper spray? After debating between not turning my back toward him and sprinting back down the hill, I decided to go back the way we came, while facing him at the same time. Owen decided to drop his hat, and I almost left it, but made a quick dash for it. We were able to reach the main road, but the coyote watched us the whole way down, no doubt waiting for me to turn away that he might sprint toward us and bite my precious son's jugular. We win this time, Coyote. In other news, Owen had a great day complete with his first haircut and brownies (for Zach and me). Though my heart told me to wait until his first birthday to cut his hair, the poor kid was literally blowing his bangs out of his eyes to see and Daddy kept complaining about the rat tail. Owen and I watched videos of him as a newborn, and he found them hilarious. He successfully walked with a walker toy (that can't be the name), cruised along the French doors, and pulled himself up on the stairs. It was a busy birthday.
It finally happened.We chose to ignore our baby’s desperate and only available form of communication. Sure kid, we hear you crying in misery, begging, pleading for assistance or some sign of our affection, and we say, “No.”Actually, we say, “Shh, you’re fine.Go to sleep.”Then we close the door, leaving you in the darkness with only your precious Lion to comfort you and the distressing, ever-present noise of rushing water that the allegedly “soothing” white noise maker provides.
One Saturday in early September, I turned to Zach and said, “Hey, let’s do the cry it out thing.” I had been avoiding this option even though it had become very clear that the fatiguing and time-consuming rocking-to-sleep process was no longer effective.Owen was over it, and he was frequently waking in the night still.We knew we were going to have a hard time getting him into the habit of sleeping through the night again, what with the two month road trip and all, but after a few weeks in a routine in our new home, we were still feeling like zombies from all of the night waking.
So that Saturday, we put Owen down for a nap and he cried for 45 minutes and then proceeded to take one of the longest naps ever.We took this as confirmation, and let him fall to sleep by himself for bedtime that night.Owen cried for 25 minutes and then was out like a light.For the next few nights, he got into the habit of going to bed on his own and ended up sleeping through the night.
I grant you, there have definitely been some highs and lows.After the first two magical weeks of not waking up in the night except maybe once to eat, Owen inexplicably (Teething? Growth spurt? Practicing crawling and rolling over? ) started waking throughout the night.After much hubbub, we’re back to waking once a night to eat, and I’m about to cut that feeding out too.He also falls asleep on his own for naps now, which really frees up one’s day, believe me.It’s a whole new world.
Normally, bedtime goes down free of any crying.There are some variables regarding naptime, but usually Owen is out without a fuss.There are setbacks, however; like this past weekend when we said, “Oh, you have a schedule now, huh? Watch this!” We carted that kid all over and took him to pumpkin patches, parks and parties.As a result, last evening and today’s naps were a bit rougher.But the past few days have been all about getting him back on track.Too bad it’s almost fall back.
Finally, we have reached the end of the Great Ashton Escapades. Thanks for your patience as I reviewed two months of visiting and vagabonding. I promise the posts will soon return to my rambling day-to-day musings instead of this location-based enumeration.
Washington, Utah
We traveled through desert states and made our last stop in Utah. We were close enough to California to find an In-N-Out Burger, so we celebrated via gorging ourselves on delicious food. Turns out Owen can sit very well in a highchair. Probably should have tried that sooner. Holy cow! I can eat a meal without one hand tied behind my back. Pretty essential when attempting to stuff a burger in my mouth...whole. We splurged on our last night and stayed at another nice hotel. Owen, as excited as we were, got up at the crack of dawn, so we left at the crack of dawn. We continued driving and the wildfire smoke led us to our new home, the Golden State. San Dimas, CA
Having arrived, we spent a week with Joel and Steph, attempting to find a place to live. They were patient and accommodating as "a few days" turned into a solid week. After a few disappointments, we located a magical place I like to call Hummingbird Nest Ranch. I can't be sure why, but they decided to rent us a delightful townhome for a very reasonable price (at least based on California standards). Since moving in, we've been exploring our new home, going to the beach, and church shopping. But, more on that later...
We took a minor detour en route to California in order to go to Jackson Hole, WY.I had spent the summer there our junior year of college, working at a guest ranch, and Zach was game for touring the town.We walked through downtown Jackson Hole and saw the sights, namely, arches made of antlers.We made a quick stop at the ranch and an elk ran in front of the car.
On the way, we paused so I could feed Owen from tetons in front of the gorgeous Grand Tetons.
Dinner was at a fantastic pizza place that looks right at the mountain range.We sat outside as the sun was setting.We then fed our son mushed banana in the parking lot.
That night, we stayed at the home of a couple- Richard and Jeannette- who had worked as wranglers at the ranch when I was there. They were renting a remodeled homestead cabin and had three horses and a mule in their pastures.We caught up with them (the couple, not the animals) over some lattes and then hunkered down for the night.
In the morning, Zach helped pound some posts and then had his first horseback ride.Well, it was on a mule named Fiddle, but he still got to go riding.I was ecstatic that I got to go riding with him, which I had hitherto thought unfeasible, what with a baby and all.Richard watched Owen as Jeannette, Zach and I went for a long ride. Zach was a natural and so hot right now.
Idaho Falls, ID
We left Victor later than planned and continued on toward our final destination.We ended up spending the night in Idaho Falls.This was a crazy city.Sunburned and dehydrated from our horseback ride, we had a hard time finding a hotel and ended up in a Motel 6 that looked much like a dorm room.The bathroom had a crazy shower, but no bath, so Owen had another sink bath.I got the baby ready for bed while Zach hunted and gathered some Applebee’s for us.We were definitely ready to get to California!
The road trip chronicles continue. Don’t worry, they're winding down now.
Omaha, NE
Somewhere in middle America, we stopped at a lovely, new Hampton Inn for the night.New, but lacking a bathtub.Owen was quickly bathed in the sinking. He loved hanging on the faucet.It looked like his own little mini Jacuzzi.He was starting to sleep better and better, which makes such a difference.
Throughout our entire trip, Zach had unloaded and reloaded everything. Thanks to how jam packed our sweet little Camry was, this meant he had to unload everything, in order to get to the Pack and Play. So even if we were staying somewhere for one night, the entire car was unpacked and packed again.I felt bad being useless, but as neither an engineer with the ability to fit luggage in like Tetris nor one without a baby constantly on my hip, I very rarely helped him.In Omaha, I decided to be a big help when we were getting ready to leave in the morning.I went and got a luggage cart, and when I returned. Zach just laughed and laughed at me. “Way to help, Anna.” I didn’t see what the problem was. I just stopped to get some more breakfast on the way back to the room.
Laramie, WY
The next day, we reached Laramie.All of the hotels were expensive, for some reason, in this small, somewhat desolate western city.We managed to find a quiet, lodge-style hotel with warm cookies and coffees with flavored syrup.Owen swiftly snatched a cookie out of my hand and got chocolate all over himself. We were tired of eating on the road, so we went to a nearby Walmart and got a rotisserie chicken, mashed potatoes, rolls and microwaveable corn.What now, Boston Market?It was a wonderful meal, and we enjoyed a restful stop.
Chicago, Illinois After the reunion, we headed to Chicago and got to have an amazing Portillo's lunch with Gramma Z at her place. It was a big gathering and Gramma was a great hostess. Owen was put on the table, per tradition, and examined. Fortunately, he was getting over being sick, so he passed. We also played cards. Donkey was particularly hilarious and borderline dangerous. Jason was clawed by Mom and Gramma made sure Dad kept up the pace. We also spent a day in the city, walking all over the place. Zach had not been to Chicago before, and we had the best tour guide possible since Dad "built" the city. We got to see "the bean," Buckingham Fountain, and the Art Institute, among other things. We ate at Bubba Gumps on Navy Pier, and Zach and I ran to the end of the Pier. We had to sprint back in order to make the water taxi. Zach gave me a piggy back ride and sprinted back. Don't worry, my Dad had the baby at the time. We spent one more night in a hotel and said bye to Gramma and then Mom and Dad in the morning. Then we were on the road again.
Consider the carpenter who carved an intricate dove into a ceiling joist of St. Peter's cathedral. When asked why he spent so much time sculpting a support beam no one would ever see, he answered simply, "God sees it."
