Baby boy Owie

Have I mentioned here that Owen was 12 lbs 4 oz when he was born (two weeks early I add)? Well, he was! I was mighty uncomfortable.

Owen pictured above receiving his Arrow of Light award -- the highest achievement in Cub Scouts.

Baby Owie turned 11-years-old on Friday. His Dad and I got him a BMX bike and his grandparents gave him money for a dirt bike.  The whole family went to the Spaghetti Factory for dinner and Owen's friend Garron came along. After, Dad took the kids to Iron Man 3, while I took Jackie home. Luke bought Owen a green Freedom shirt with his own money.

It wasn't a big production but was very nice day. Papa called and sang Happy Birthday! to Owen  and Dad and I made waffles and sausage for birthday breakfast. I brought doughnuts for Owen to share with his class (and I followed the specific instructions "maybe . . . you could just leave them in the office with a note and I can come pick them up." He's getting older).

We sure love this boy. Owen is a great first child; he genuinely wants to do good and make peace (unless your name is Luke--then he wants to tease you incessantly and push all your buttons). But seriously, Owen, we love you so much. You make us proud every day. You're into soccer right now and are pretty good! You're independent and a determined--once you set your mind to something we had better watch out. I love this about you.

*Sigh* You're getting older. You recently told me about a girl that you think is cute (I won't say her name here, *cough* Tatum Pile *cough).  And coincidentally, you've started wearing deodorant -- though you don't need it yet -- and an occasional spritz of cologne. You've also learned how to tie a tie. If I want something done, you are my go-to kid. You work hard and handle things that life throws at you with grace. This year you've started taking insulin regularly. You're our easy-going, happy spirit and we couldn't imagine living our lives without you.

We love you Owen. Happy Birthday!

Not to be forgotten:

 We've been busy over here growing up; here are some photos that show what we've been up these past few weeks.

Chess is still a large part of our lives, Chad is still playing and improving and the boys are going strong. They go to chess club every Wednesday night with Chad but they seem to really enjoy playing with their friends who don't play. . .

Owie started wearing a real tie. It's been a few weeks of this and he is able to do it all on his own. Sniff.

This photo just slays me, it was with his DSI therapist Erica. She got him to stand without holding onto anything by starting with him leaning backwards along the wall while she blew bubbles to keep him distracted. His smile. . .no words.

The first plunge of the year, second Saturday of April; Owen, Luke, Garron and Roger. They were happy little Popsicles!

Oh my. Jackie's first bike ride. I kept turning around to make sure he wasn't scared and was smiling away then every time I even slowed down a little he frantically signed MORE!

Lily pad back in her seat, she was pretty jealous that Jack is now riding in her seat.

Chad and I went to the Phoenix concert at the Marquee in Phoenix! Awesome show!!

Just before Jack went in for his infected incision repair, passing time in THE BIG RED CAR.

Jackie just loves books. I catch him in his room daily thumbing through books. His very very favorite book is Brown Bear. 

Dear babies, do you know how much we think about you?

I can distinctly remember when Owen was born thinking, "whoa, I can't believe my parents loved me this much!" When he was born, I felt an all encompassing love and concern for another person that was completely unique.

 

Chad and I are both talkers. We talk on walks, by the pool, laying in bed (but not sharing blankets--Chaddy has his special bunky) and quite often we talk about our babies. Chad is the only other person on the planet that cares for them as much as I do.  I love that. We share our frustrations about them, laugh at the ridiculous things they do, plan how to get them to do one thing or another. We worry and hope, but are excited for all of their futures. Blood, sweat and tears baby.

You don't appreciate or even know how much your parents freaking love you when you're being raised. We love you so much that an hour rarely passes where one of us isn't actively doing something to build up you and your future. And worry, oh baby . . . fughedaboutet! Someone should give you a heads up about how much you'll worry. Can you worry about another human being ten-hours-per-day, on average? Yes. Perfect, welcome to parenthood. Worries:

•  Will you ever be potty trained?
•  Will you ever eat by your mouth and stop tube feeding?
•  What is that red mark on your cheek--is it cancer?
•  How can I get you to stop teasing your brother (OWEN!);
•  Will you have good friends?
•  Will you have any friends?
•  Who will care for you when daddy and I are gone?
•  What after-school program is best for you?
•  Should I request a certain teacher for you?
•  How can I teach you to be more forgiving?
•  Will you know how to work hard?
•  Will you ever be able to read?
•  Can you read on grade level?
•  Can you read above grade level?
•  Will you read porn?

I could go on forever.
So you see dear babies, you are always at the forefront of both of our minds. We just love you desperately and want the best for you. We see so many of your strengths and weaknesses and want to do absolutely everything within our power (unless we need to let you struggle on your own to figure out hard things--see?!? IT'S COMPLICATED) to help you become the very best babies you can be.

Ei ya yai. Know this my babies, you have two people who couldn't be more in your corner if they tried. Baby--we own that corner.

Always remember--mama loves you. (Dad couldn't be reached for comment on this at the time of publication.)