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!