When My Boy Walks Down the Street

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).

Yes, I Am Talking To You

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.

Exhibit A: VEST DAY!