Five years ago today, Owen popped into this world (butt-first, I might add). In just half a decade, he's managed to do things that I could have never done at his age -- like identify makes and models of cars on sight, warble Weezer songs on key, crank out dozens of drawings each day, memorize age-inappropriate lyrics to hip-hop and Top 40 singles, engage in expert-level discourse on the differences between Clonetroopers and Stormtroopers, kung fu kick like nobody's business, and launch himself into the ocean with fearless abandon. He's a pretty good big brother to Ollie, too. (Usually.) But I'm most proud of Owen's curiosity about the world, his self-confidence, and his ever-evolving sense of humor (which currently involves a lot of talk about pooping and farting).

Happy birthday, O. Your dad loves you more than you can imagine.

For his upcoming fifth birthday party, our little Star Wars-obsessed preschooler wanted a Clone Trooper pinata. Being the indulgent parents that we are, we went in search of one at a Mexican pinata store last weekend. In case you didn't know, Clone Troopers are supposed to look like this, but here's what we found instead:

Scary, right? It looks like the albino child of Rorschach from Watchmen and a Teletubbie who unknowingly ingested thalidomide during her pregnancy. Without the Star Wars logo pasted on the chest of this tissue-covered nightmare, I might have confused it for a pinata of a melting ghost or a Klan member.

We bought it anyway. Why? Because (1) it was cheap, (2) our kid wanted it, and (3) I love a good challenge. I was determined to give this pinata an extreme makeover.

The first step was to fix the head. It took an entire evening, but here's the papier mache helmet I made using aluminum foil, newspaper, flour & water, acrylic paint, painter's tape, cardboard, and a Sharpie:

But I couldn't stop with just the head. The pinata we bought didn't have any forearms or hands, for God's sake. So I made some with plastic cups, masking tape, acrylic paint, duct tape, painter's tape, and cardboard. Afterwards, I cut up some Chinet plates and bowls and started making the Clone Trooper's armor. A few finishing touches later, I was done:

It's still Teletubbie-shaped, but at least it now more closely resembles what it's actually supposed to look like. Michelle thinks I may have gone overboard with the armor, and is concerned that the kids won't be able to crack the thing open to get at the candy inside. She may be right; even though the "armor" is made of paper, the kids who'll be whacking at this pinata aren't exactly the New York Yankees. Some of them still take naps.
Still, the birthday boy seems happy with it, and is already starting to practice beating it to a pulp with his bare hands.

More photos of the Pinata Plastic Surgery can be found here.

Happy Turkey Day!

(At lunch, Owen asked: "When's it gonna be Ham Day?")

I love listening as Owen and Ollie develop their own vocabularies.

Instead of answering "yes" when asked a question, Ollie now responds with: "Ummm, YES?" And rather than delivering a toneless "thank you," he's decided to say it like he's a peppy server at a restaurant, with an uplift on the second word: "thank YOU!" His other favorite word is "why?" -- mostly because he knows he can keep the dialog going if he simply repeats the word over and over again.

Owen, meanwhile, is testing out the following phrases:

"I'm not sticking my neck out for you!"
"Ha, ha -- FOOL!"
"I'm keeping my eyes on you."

Clearly, someone's watching too much TV.

Between working, hanging out with the kids, exercising like a crazy person (and posting incessantly about it on my other blog), and now, at long last, vacationing, I've neglected to post much here lately.

But I haven't stopped taking photos. Here's are my latest snaps from October and November.

Ollie is obsessed with lip balm. He'll sit calmly for extended periods of time, gently touching a Chapstick to his lips and turning the base of the tube to extend and retract the gooey column over and over again.

This morning, he rummaged through his mom's purse and pulled out her Sugar lip treatment.  "Ollie take," he said, and then ran away with it.  Within half a minute, he'd snapped the stick in half.  "THAT COST $22!" Michelle screamed.

Owen had a fantastic time at the "Star Wars in Concert" event at the HP Pavilion in San Jose yesterday -- thanks to his mom, who spent a small fortune to procure a pair of VIP tickets to the concert.

With our tickets, we got early access to the gallery of props and costumes from the movies, and with just a handful of other people around, Owen scampered excitedly around from station to station, striking battle poses (complete with tough-looking scowls) and spewing laser-and-explosion sounds -- and sprays of spittle -- from his mouth. He pointed his index fingers to make imaginary laser pistols and shot at Han Solo. He fought off a battle droid. He swooped around the Death Star and reenacted how the Emperor fell to his doom. ("Whoooaaah!" he yelled, and fell dramatically onto the floor, splaying his arms and legs awkwardly.) And most thillingly of all, he met a real, live Stormtrooper.

(Our tickets also got us a buffet lunch in a "VIP room." The food was disappointingly cafeteria-like and supremely unhealthy, but Owen managed to shovel down all the fried and/or sugary foods on his plate before demanding to go back upstairs to rejoin his fellow Star Wars devotees.)

As for the concert itself, it was actually pretty entertaining. Anthony Daniels, the guy who played C-3PO, was onstage to narrate the two-hour show, which consisted of a live symphony orchestra playing pieces from the films' soundtracks that accompanied an edited selection of Star Wars clips projected onto an enormous screen. Some pyrotechnics and laser-and-smoke effects were also thrown in, which caused Owen to jolt in surprise a few times. (We had tenth-row seats, and could feel the heat from the flames that occasionally shot out of the floor of the stage.) But he loved every minute of it, inhaling sharply when his favorite tunes were played, clapping enthusiastically after each song, and beaming throughout.

I had a great time, too. These days, it's not often that I get to spend a day with just Owen, doing and seeing stuff that he loves. Owen's smiling face in the photo above makes me really, really happy.

And not just because he's becoming a total nerd like me.

I find it a little disturbing that despite Ollie's very limited vocabulary, he points to our laptop (running iTunes) every morning and demands: "BOOM BOOM POW!" 

And then he wants us to pick him up and dance.

Our latest batch of photos are up!

Both Owen and Ollie are now sick, so this weekend has been the direct opposite of fun.

Ollie's cold has been lingering, and he's now in the phase where his body's trying to expel all the slimy gunk that's clogged up his nose and throat. Unfortunately, he HATES having his nose blown and refuses to allow anyone to wipe his face. Instead, he's rubbed his own nose and mouth completely raw, and is in pain from his cracked, dried-booger-smeared mouth. So he's spent the better part of the weekend crying and wanting to be held, which is sweet and pleasant for about two seconds -- until he starts freaking out that his nose is still running. Then comes the screaming and twisting around and flailing and wet trails of flying snot.

Owen -- even though he's down with a fever -- is much more low-maintenance. He spent the day camped out on the couch in his PJs, watching Star Wars movies and playing with action figures and toy cars. (I'm convinced that part of him is thrilled that he's sick because as a special treat, he got to watch TV pretty much all day.) But with both kids out of commission, and with Michelle asleep for much of the day (she's working tonight), we were stuck at home, wallowing in all the germy goodness instead of enjoying the sunny weekend day. (We also had to skip the red-egg party for my cousin's new baby boy.)

And to top it all off, during the boys' bathtime, Owen vomited in the tub. As we finished removing chunky bits of barf from the tub, Michelle pointed out that it could have been worse: "At least it wasn't poo like last time."

Ollie -- who just recovered from an ear infection -- now has a cold. His nose is running like a faucet, with sheets of translucent booger slime cascading down the lower half of his face. He screams and runs away if we approach with tissue, and wiping his face wouldn't help anyway: Ollie's mucous-generating abilities are second to none. He keeps swiping his little chubby hands across his nose, though, so they're coated with liquid booger. And because he can't sit still, all the furniture and toys in our house are now charmingly criss-crossed with human slime trails.

Anyone want to come over and babysit?