Saturday, March 27, 2010

Happy Birthday

Dear Owen,

Happy Birthday! This is sure to be the first in a long line of late birthday cards you’ll be receiving from me. This time, I blame it on your mother. It took her several days to get me a decent picture of you. Also, there was that brief period—2 or 3 days in the beginning there—when I didn’t actually know your full name. (The out-of-towners are always the last to hear the details.) As it turns out, you’re named after almost all of your male relatives. In fact, if I posted your middle names here, this would no longer be an anonymous blog. Here, we will just call you Owen.

I do love that you carry your grandpas' names, though. I very much look forward to watching the amazing men in your life—your grandpas, your dad, your uncle—teach you to be a scholar and a gentleman. You will learn to be compassionate, insightful, funny, and kind. You will hold open doors for people. You’ll carry groceries for old ladies. You'll be a very hard worker, an extremely loyal friend. You will have a great sense of humor, especially about yourself.

You’ll also get into a fair bit of trouble. But, when your dad calls your grandpa to say, “You will not believe what this kid did…” your grandpa will remind your father of the time he accidentally laundered pot it in his jeans. Even the scholar and gentleman sometimes gets caught with stems and seeds in the dryer vent.

Your sister Lucy could not be more excited about your arrival. She alternates between kissing you and sticking her finger in your eyes. You are covered in spit and have corneal abrasions, but you are well loved. Lucy and Logyn have great plans for you. Mostly, they plan to boss you around and take your stuff. Don’t look to your cousin, Eli, for any help here. He weighs more than the two of them combined, and yet they’ve somehow managed to purloin everything the kid once owned. Turkey sized and most dangerous when they work in tandem, those two are the toddler equivalent of Velociraptors (from the Latin for swift seizer).

Speaking of spit and eye injury, I can’t wait to see you in May. When I tell you, “Owen, I’m going to give you a thousand kisses,” I mean it. I’m also going to blind you with my camera. I apologize in advance. I can’t help myself. Take a hint from Logyn who now closes her eyes when she sees me coming.

It appears as though you may have that part down pat…


Love,
Aunt TT

6 comments:

Eric said...

A great post, T. I'm still smiling for you all.

.j.william. said...

I still manage to hit my eyes with the corneal abrasions and occasionally chemical burns and I can still see (albeit with severe myopia and astigmatism). So Owen, fear not young lad. I toast to your birthday!

Susanlee said...

Squee!! I love it when babies look like real people right off the bat, and not just pink, angry raisins!

Congratulations, T, he's beautiful!

Anna said...

You're such a cool auntie, Tee! Happy birthday Owen, you are indeed well-loved. May it always be so.

Maria said...

I am never one to wax poetically about babies. I honestly think they all look like Milton Berle. But...this one is not half bad.

MmeBenaut said...

Congratulations Aunt TT - a new nephew for you, given the most heartwarming welcome from his adoring auntie. I like the path you have drawn for him and I just know that he will indeed become a "scholar and a gentleman". Lovely, little one.