Figuring It Out

Another year has passed, and I think it's safe to say that time is truly flying by.  My firstborn child is 15.  My little, roly-poly baby boy is now as tall as I am.

Owen's journey from 14 to 15 was a year filled with new opportunities, and a few goodbyes, too.

For years, Owen had wanted a pet snake, and for his 14th birthday, we surprised him with his very own slithery snake.  He thoroughly enjoyed bringing his pet down from his bedroom to shock visitors.

At Christmas, a light mishap sent him to the ER and it was confirmed that Owen had his first broken bone.

Because the break was in his hand, Owen was unable to drive a snowmobile.  That didn't stop him from getting some time outdoors on the sledding hill, though.

In 8th grade, honors science students have the opportunity to create a project for the district science fair.  Owen's experiments with water purification methods earned him a Junior Research Fellow Award.

Another opportunity 8th grade students have in our school district is the chance to visit Washington D.C. I was quite nervous to send my boy across the country on his own for four days, but he had so much fun exploring and hanging out with friends (and sending me selfies!)

As his 8th grade year came to a close, there were many celebrations.  Owen attend honors' award night where he was recognized for his exceptional grades.

And he also attended his first dance-the 8th grade farewell dance.

Summertime was most welcomed, and was filled with trips to the local parks,

fishing,

and Flint Junior Golf with Grandpa and cousin, Flynn.

Just like that, summer was over and it was time for...HIGH SCHOOL.  While some kids dread this step up, Owen was nothing but excited for this fresh start.

One thing that is different about high school here is, on Wednesday mornings, school starts two hours later to give time for teacher meetings and test make-ups.  The leaves time for Owen and I to have a little one-on-one time at a local diner.  We talk, we laugh, and we EAT.

Owen also attended Homecoming, and totally rocked suspenders and a bow tie.

At the beginning of 9th grade, Owen had opted to take regular college prep Science, but after a couple of months, it was clear that he should be in Honors Science.  He applied to be accepted into the more advanced class, and his teacher joked that the class he was leaving would have a much lower class average without Owen in it!  Haha!

Owen also said goodbye to running on the cross-country team this year, and decided to apply for the Robotics Team.  We were all very excited when he received the news that he had made the team.  Parents were invited to join in on the season's launch, and I sat in the back of the room and watched as Owen was warmly accepted into this group of teenagers who loved computers and gaming and all things technology, and I knew he had found his people.

When he was 14 years and 9 months old, Owen was eligible to take driver's training.  He passed with flying colors, but I have to tell you, there is nothing scarier than being in the passenger's seat with a 15 year old driver. 

Now don't worry-even with all of the honor's classes and Robotics and driving, Owen still saves time for straight up FUN.

He loves to be outside exploring, and he loves spending time with his brothers and sisters.

This year, once again, for his birthday, Owen requested chocolate pie, and had fun joking around with friends and family.

Oh, and his favorite recent gift?  A black winter hat with two giant puffballs on top.  He wears it every chance he gets and loves it.  (I have no idea where he gets his sense of humor.)

Speaking of humor, Owen has a thing for stupid "dad jokes".  Here's an example:

"Mountains aren't just funny, they are hill areas."

I have said it before, but Owen is THE best big brother.  He is always willing to stop what he's doing to help his siblings.  Middle school was a little rough, as it often is for kids, but Owen put all of that behind him and totally made his freshman year HIS.  New friends, new activities, and a new focus have really helped him come into his own.  He makes us proud every day with his choices and his behavior and we are so lucky that he is ours.  We love his sense of humor, and we love his intelligence and the little tidbits of knowledge he works into conversations.

I remember the days when my kids were all little and they needed so much from me.  I remember the days when I felt like I'd never get a moment to myself.  I remember being scared to send my kids to school and to play dates with friends.  It doesn't get any easier-it's still hard.  It's hard giving your kids freedom, even though they're ready.  It's hard to think Owen only has three more years of high school.  The days fly by and the weeks fly by, and the years fly by.  Sometimes 15 years ago seems like yesterday.  It has been quite a journey with Owen leading the way, but we have learned so much from being his parents.  I have always known Owen was destined for greatness, and I think he is starting to see that he has the power to make his dreams come true. 

Owen, we are so proud of all that you are.  You impress us everyday and we are lucky to watch you grow into a wonderful young man.

Happy birthday, O.  Mom loves you!

Big Heart

In a tiny barn, in a big backyard, sat a fluffy mama hen atop a clutch of eggs.  She had collected those eggs over the last few days from some of the other hens on the farm, and she claimed them as her own.

For three weeks, she sat on those eggs.  She plucked off her own fluff from her underbelly to keep them warm and cozy, and only left them for very brief moments to get some sips of water or a few pecks of food.  Then, on the twenty-first day of egg-sitting, something started to happen.  It was time.  Her hard work had paid off.  There, beneath her, a tiny crack had appeared in one of the eggs.  Soon, the crack grew larger, and more cracks started to appear.  Many hours later, through the cracks in the egg shell, a tiny beak poked through.  This was followed by a wet, little head, one wing and then the other, helping to squeeze that little body out of the shell.

And then, there it was.  A tiny, shy, baby chick, its fluff still wet and matted from the confines of its shell.  As mama hen warmed that tiny chick, other chicks were hard at work, breaking out of their own shells.  By the time it was over, that hen was a proud new mama of five baby chicks.

As you can imagine, being a mama of five is a full time job.  It is no easy task keeping five little ones warm and fed and protected, while also teaching them the ways of the world.  But this mama was good at her job.  By the second day, she had all five chicks out in the yard, exploring.  When she found a few bugs or an anthill, she made sure to call her little ones in close, always making sure they ate before she did.

As they grew, the little chicks gained confidence to explore further and further, but when darkness fell, all five of them could be found tucked up all around and under their protective mama.  When the chicks lost all of their baby fluff and had grown their adult feathers, the needed their mama less and less.  Even though she was content to let them go, the growing chicks continued to stay together as a group.  They ate together, they explored together, and they roosted together at night.

Time passed on the farm, and summer turned to fall.  The nights got cooler and the days got shorter.  One day, the little girl on the farm noticed that one of the now nearly grown chicks was injured.  This black chicken was named Bell, and she needed help.  If she was left to fend for herself, Bell would certainly fall victim to a fox or a coyote or a hawk-all of which frequented the farm.  So, the little girls brought Bell inside to the library.  The chicken's leg was badly broken and she couldn't even stand up.  Her parents tried to tell her that this was just a part of farm life and that Bell probably wouldn't live, but the little girl had other plans.  She found an old bin and filled it with straw, and put little bowls of food and water in the bin, too.  Soon the little girl realized that this was not the best plan.  Every time Bell tried to stand on her injured leg, she would lose her balance and start to flap her wings.  All that wing-flapping would inevitably cause Bell to spill her food and water, leaving the bin and herself a big, sloppy mess.  The little girl didn't know what to do, but she knew she didn't want to continuously change all of Bell's bedding!  So, the little girl moved into the library.  She fed Bell from her hand, and made sure she always had enough to drink.  At night, she would dim the lights and curl up in the corner chair, never more than a few feet from her sweet Bell, and sleep.

The nights were sometimes long, when the little girl would stay awake very late, worrying about how she could save Bell.  One morning, the little girl's mother came into the library very early, and found Bell lying lifeless, with her head wedged under her food bowl.  She thought this was the end for Bell, but when the mother reached in to pick her up, Bell lifted her head and cocked it to one side!  Apparently, Bell had just wanted a little extra shut-eye that morning!

The weeks went by, and the little girl continued to care for her chicken and sleep by her side.  Then, in November, something amazing happened.  The little girl awoke one morning to find Bell standing up in her bin-STANDING!

She knew her chicken had been healing and getting stronger, because the little girl had been working with her every day.  Bell used to fall over when the little girl tried to stand her up, unable to put any weight on her injured leg.  But she had slowly seen improvements in the chicken, and Bell had learned how to stay upright using both legs.  But today was different-today she had done it all on her own!

Bell was still not able to rejoin her flock, though.  She was still very weak and had lost a lot of weight.  The little girl continued to take such good care of Bell.  She'd wrap her in a towel and snuggle with her for hours. 

At school, she would write stories about how much she loved her sweet Bell. 

In early December, something changed.  Bell was barely eating and drinking.  Within a couple of days, she couldn't stand up anymore.  What was happening?  Bell had been on the road to recovery and now she had taken a turn for the worse.  The little girl was was worried more than ever. 

It was her Christmas wish that Bell would live to see Christmas Day.  She held her, wrapped in her towel, all day and night, keeping her warm. 

On a Saturday in early December, Bell lost her battle.  She did not wake up that morning, and had spent her last night in the library. 

The little girl was distraught.  She had poured her heart and soul into helping her sweet Bell, and she still wasn't able to save her.  This wasn't fair!  The little girl was angry and sad, and most of all, lonely.  Later that day, her father helped her bury Bell in the backyard, in the shade of a tree, and painted a rock to place over her grave. 

That night, and for a long time thereafter, the little girl slept in the library, curled up with her favorite chicken's towel.  Her brother tried to cheer her up with pictures he drew, but she was just so sad.

After some time, when the anger had worn off, and her eyes weren't so full of tears, the little girl was left with just loneliness.  She started to think that maybe she'd like to start again with a new chick.  So, her mother found a breeder who happened to be expecting to hatch new chicks the very next day and they made the trip across the state to see them.  When the lady came into the room holding the box of freshly hatched chicks, and a tiny, fuzzy, black head peeked out, the little girl squealed with delight.  The little girl and her mother decided to take the new chick home, along with two other fluffball chicks.  On the drive home, as the little girl held her new chick, it slowly creeped up and snuggled in right on her shoulder, beneath the little girl's hair, and fell asleep.

That  night, a new friendship was formed: the little girl and her little black chick.  That little girl continues to sleep in the library, but now the room has a soft, red glow of a heat lamp to keep the tiny chicks warm throughout the winter. 

And in the spring, when the snow has melted, the ground has begun to thaw, the apple tree has new blossoms, and the three little chicks are fully feathered, they will join the backyard flock.  The little black chic with have grand adventures in tall grasses and wheat fields, but she will always come home to the little girl with the big heart.