In which Owen begins to consider his career options.
I've made a horrible mistake.
I told you all earlier that Owen likely couldn't make it as a super model-- what with the whole flash aversion and all. The signs, however, begin to tell another story. Let's list them, shall we?:
The wardrobe. Take a look at the pix. We have the duck suit, the stripes (not one but two versions, mind you, and apparently horizontal stripes are OK if you're 6 months old). We're looking for a nice winter white outfit (shades of trendsetters (??!) Mrs. Blunt and the First Lady), but so far, no luck. They don't appear to make giant fur cloaks and bonnets for babies here in Kazakhstan. But, while we're on the topic of wardrobe, point #2...
The hat. All the happenin' dudes wear 'em. Our son's is the ever popular gangsta stocking cap. Seeing him in it, we're a little concerned he'll be tempted to throw down on some of the other babies with his bad self. We're trying to instill more pacifistic values in Owen. And speaking of "Owen"...
The name. Okay, so we're biased. And, truth be told, we were beginning to wonder. The Kazakhs all ask us what we're going to call him. When we tell them "Owen," there's a little pause... usually a request to repeat... and then a perplexed little nod. We were secretly afraid that "Owen" might translate to "Stinks Like Monkey" or some such in Russian.
Fortunately Inna, our valued interpreter, set us straight. At the start of today's visit, we mentioned that Owen likes hearing Russian so she immediately leaned over him and cooed to him in the native tongue. He rewarded her with a grin. When I asked her what she said, she blushed and told me "When you go to America you're getting a really cool name." And speaking of things Inna says about Owen...
The look. Yes, the Russian chicks dig Mr. Owen. Inna was telling us again today how cute he is and who are we to argue? Did I mention that Inna also thinks Owen looks like me?
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So, while we're on the topic of fashion, let's talk about a related subject: Nipples. I mentioned yesterday that we'd gone shopping for the Russian pacifier with its larger than life binkiness. As you can see from the photo, it matches the goat-feeder bottle quite nicely.
Apparently, pacifiers are not in vogue here in Kokshetau. When the nurse brought us the bottle, the look was disapproving to say the least. (Don't worry, we made points up later when we tuckered the little guy out and handed her back her burrito snoozed up and ready for bed.)
Whatever the opinion of pacifiers, however, here or abroad, I can tell you that this one did a nice job of banishing the former days' fussiness. (Of course, we were also visiting in the afternoon, instead of the morning, and that might have had something to do with it. However, since I'm the one who forced the whole pacifier idea on Robin, we're going with this as the cause for today's happiness.) We did some nice ab crunches (a.k.a, sitting up) and didn't even fuss-- much-- during the dreaded "tummy time."
As an aside: First, I can't believe I'm regularly using the term "tummy time." Sheesh! Second, Robin added all that stuff about Mrs. Blunt and First Lady Bush. I didn't even see them. I swear.
Back to nipples. What makes today's theme all the more entertaining, however, is that the room where we visit Owen is also a makeshift classroom for women's education. We've attached a visual of one of the teaching aids.
What it teaches, we aren't sure.
While we're discussing fashion, we thought we'd share this photo. Housemates Matt, Audrea and their sons, Jack (l.) and Ben (r.) model the latest in high styling baby carriers.
Bonus Photos Below
Pictured, by popular demand, is the Baby Burrito.
One of Squishy Turtle's friends is the Crab "who pinches your toes." Yes, Uncle Doug Anning, Owen knows that this is you.
Any super model will tell you: After a big photo shoot, down a bottle and hit the sack.
