This one

This child gives me a run for my money nearly every single day. He is my easiest child and my hardest child all in the same hour. He makes me giggle like nobody's business and he frustrates me to no end. Kirt and I have had our hands full with figuring out how to handle this one, but every conversation ends with us belly laughing about something he said or did.

Last week I finally replaced my windshield. It had been severely cracked for a while and I finally bit the bullet. (Why didn't anyone tell me that I could have it done the same afternoon and never leave my house?) Anyway, the next morning we jump in the car to take Owen to school. Both of us just stopped for a second and looked out the windshield. It was a notable difference, we were both in silent awe. I finally said,"It looks like a brand new car, doesn't it Owen?" He replied, "It's like heaven... Except you're here." So matter-of-fact and innocent.

"Ouch! What? What in the world? What is that supposed to mean? Owey, you just broke my heart!"

He looks at me all crazy - wondering why I'm so upset. "Mom, in heaven we get to relax by OURSELVES!"

Although his response has prompted many more conversations on heaven and getting to be with our families, etc., his response was so Owen. He needs a little more time to himself than the average kid. Sometimes when I go to retrieve him from time out he opts to hang out in his room with his Lincoln Logs for a while longer. He's got a lot of thinking to do and that can't be done efficiently in a mass of people. I lovingly tell Kirt that Owen is always thinking, but he's rarely thinking ahead. His little mind is always spinning, but remembering to grab his backpack on his way out of the car is a struggle.

Last week he came home from school with a desperate plea: to get his Kindergarten teacher some flowers. So we loaded up and headed over to Trader Joe's and he picked out the most beautiful pot of red ranunculus. He beamed as he carried them into school the next morning. When I caught up with his teacher later that afternoon, she told me that Owen handed them to her and said, "These are for you. Just because." She had turned in her retirement papers the night before and was feeling a little bitter-sweet about the whole thing. She was so touched by the sweet gesture. Owen's gift could not have been more perfectly timed. And you know, I think that's one of his special gifts: to see beyond the 'urgent' and realize the 'important'.