What we're not videoing

I expect that, at some point down the road, I'll regret not taking more video of Owen. I'm sure I'll want to see or hear how he used to say "ggggggg" or the army crawl he used to get around for two months. (Or was it only one? Or four? With more video, we could check and know for sure.) But the thing is, what I really want to video are the moments like these from last night:

1. Owen's always helped with the laundry. At first, when he could only sit in the bouncy chair, he'd direct the sorting, identifying clothes that should be washed in cold or on gentle, should be hung to dry, etc. As soon as he could pull up, he discovered the joy of banging on the front of the washer and dryer, great drums that they are. Now, he's taken to pulling the clothes out of the dryer. So last night, I stuck the basket next to him, and he merrily pulled things out of the dryer and dropped them right into the basket. (Given his fascination for the dishwasher, I ought to be able to get him to do the dishes by 15 months.)

2. We were sitting by the front door, sorting the mail, and Owen got the rubber, choking nub off the end of the doorstop. He was enjoying it, but I'm a little leery about the choking, so I took the nub and held it in my hand. First, I would hide it under a finger, and he would pry that finger away to find the nub. Next, I held it in my closed fist, and he would open my fist to find the nub. Then, I would pass the nub from one closed fist to the other and present him with two closed fists. He would open the fist that originally held the nub and stare in wonder at my empty palm. Then he would turn the empty hand over and around, convinced that the nub must somehow still be there, adhered to the back of the hand or something.

Those are the things I'd love to have a video of, but I don't know how to do that without videoing every moment of his life, which would seem to interfere with making such moments (not least because of his hamming it up for the camera). So I write these little notes and hope that I remember to read them down the road, and that they're half as wonderful then as they feel right now.

Oh, and speaking of wonder, Owen's wonderful sleeping of the last week (regularly until 6:30 or 7:00) seems to have gone bye-bye. Yesterday morning he was up at 5:30; today, after staying up late (making those moments I'm so keen to remember), he was squawking and standing at 5:00.