Thursday, February 11, 2010
Poem For Owen At Almost Five Months
Owen bats my face when I feed him his bottle
I think he is trying to get me to turn my head so he can grab
A grandmother braid to hold on to
As he drinks
But I am not sure because he is
Learning to manipulate his environment in every way
Not quite five months old and he grabs everything
No longer does he have zombie arms
He has arms with purpose
And its not just the physical manipulation
Oh no
He has learned to whimper and whine in a way which
Ensures his grandmother will pick him up
If he is in his little walker he can make it speed across
The floor to me and if I ignore him he begins that cross fuss
That fake little cry
Because he's not upset enough to really cry
He just wants me to pick him up
And of course I do, settle him on my hip
And say
What is it boy? What do you want to do?
And he leans over, straining for the floor
And I think he wants me to put him down
So he can walk and run
But of course he's not ready for that yet
And so I am his legs or sometimes I give him wheels
And we bundle up and go outside in the stroller
Where he can observe all the things in
Grandmother's yard
Although he doesn't care a thing for the garden yet
The chickens are endlessly fascinating.
Yesterday he sat on my lap and we shared a banana
I smushed up tiny pieces and fed them to him
He sucked my fingers with satisfaction
Banana
He seemed to say
I know that flavor and I like it
He must think it grows from my fingers
Like his mother's milk grows from her breast
Why not?
Life is full of mysteries
And he is determined to figure them out
From my hip if need be
And when he bats my face
I turn my head
So he can have what he wants
And sometimes I am amazed that he is still a baby
With all this thinking going on
All these lessons already learned
He is trying to leap from our arms
He wants to leap back into them
Make up your mind!
I tell him, laughing
And he looks at me as if to say
I am trying.
Can't you see? I am trying.
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what a sweet expression of your love for this amazing little being ~ how secure and cherished he must feel in your presence!
ReplyDeleteLovely. Owen is such a sweetness. Can't wait to squeeze him.
ReplyDeleteLove you Mary Moon.
I want to feed him chocolate syrup and watch his face.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I forget that Owen is a baby, or maybe it's that my definition of what a baby is is just changing.
ReplyDeleteMy alarm clock woke me up this morning while I was having a dream about babies, particularly Owen and a baby named "Jaylon". I wonder who Jaylon was supposed to be. Hehe. But anyway, Owen in my dream was just so aware of everything and when I went to go fix his car seat, he helped me out by putting his little arms and legs through the belt. He's so smart.
i love this.
ReplyDeleteperfect.
can feel your love and wonder ooze out and his exact, amazing personality and growing.
banana nana!
lucky Owen. lucky you.
ah that was such a sweet ode of love..:-) both poetic and funny...
ReplyDeleteLuluMarie- And he makes me feel cherished.
ReplyDeleteMs. Bastard- He can't wait for you to squeeze him either. Love you too.
DTG- Well. You're cleaning him up after THAT little experiment.
HoneyLuna- Maybe you were dreaming of my old friend Jaylyn. Did that baby have skin the color of coffee? I wish Owen would put his own hands and legs in the straps. Dang.
Bethany- Yep. Crazy Chicken Grandma AND Banana Nana. So many hats I get to wear.
Danielle- Not very good poem but heartfelt.
Sigh...
ReplyDeleteOh beautiful! Such a sweet poem from the crazy chicken grandmaw.
ReplyDeleteI hope you're planning to save it (and the many more you'll be writing I'm sure).
That's wonderful, and that photo is wonderful, too. Tell your sweet daughter that she is beautiful and joy just bursts from her face.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful poem, Ms. Moon! Babies are amazing and fascinating, changing and growing every day. How did 5 months fly by? It does not seem that long since Owen was waiting to be born! It is good you have the blogs and the poems to help remember these things. You are a lucky Grandma, and Owen is such a lucky boy. He is too cute for words, especially in his bear suit!
ReplyDeleteKori- I know. Babies. They are the best.
ReplyDeleteJill- This blog is like a record of his life. I love that!
Elizabeth- I'll tell her.
Thank-you.
Mel- I KNOW how lucky I am. I swear, I do. And maybe that's the best thing about being a grandmother.
i love it that your daughter looks so happy on the recent pics..she looked sad for a while but now she laughs often..i love that:-)
ReplyDeleteIt must be the best gift to be a Grandma...I just soak up your writings and think maybe someday I will have a Grandchild on my hip that I can babysit, and I can kiss and hug, and watch my children be parents and marvel at the complexity of life as it goes on...lovely Ms. Moon...
ReplyDeleteaww mamma! I love you so. Owen does too, more than we know.
ReplyDeleteDanielle- She IS happy.
ReplyDeleteEllen- Oh. You will. You will have that.
Lily- I love you too. And that sweet boy of yours who is growing up so fast.
: )
ReplyDelete