My belly and the garden squash grew round together.
Rowan was dubbed "my little pumpkin" and came in October like a good autumn baby should.
He was a deceitfully quiet and sweet baby, saving up all the talking, debating, and story-telling for later years.
At 2, he was a terror, the pumpkin became a jack-o-lantern and gave us many scares. He caused me to be on a first name basis with the poison control center.
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| To sum up in one word the first few years of his life....SCARY. |
This year he asked for a motor to make an air glider or a glass bottom boat.
I.said.no.
I suggested a cupboard for the garage to organize all his past hobby paraphernalia in.
He said no thanks.
He has been in a bee keeping class for a year now and asked if he could have bee keeping accessories instead.
We said yes, because at least we'll be able to eat the honey.
He's still kind of disappointed about the engine. I told him he can get one after he gets married.
Rowan is the most like me in the sense that he turns everything that happens to him into a story. We can't help it anymore than a spider can help spinning a web. It's just the way we're made. I coach him through it, telling him what to cut out and how to make the most of the climax. I tell him how to be aware of when he's losing his audience, and then I demonstrate, repeatedly.
He sees the humor in everything and gloats over it, finding joy in the people and situations around him.
He is full of dreams and plans and ideas. The majority of which are extremely expensive.
Sometimes I'm utterly surprised to realize how much I love him. He exhausts me and delights me and tolerates me by turns.
We will never be bored as long as Rowan lives with us. This summer he raised pumpkins. He planted this field with 100 seeds and then marveled in the drama of raising crops. Who knew a pumpkin field could yield such stories?
Rowan, we love you. You are an original, one-of-a-kind gift from God. We know that whatever you do for the Lord, you will do whole heartedly. And then you'll tell a story about it (making sure that everyone is maintaining eye contact). Because that is just who you are.
And we love it.
Most of the time.
Rowan is the most like me in the sense that he turns everything that happens to him into a story. We can't help it anymore than a spider can help spinning a web. It's just the way we're made. I coach him through it, telling him what to cut out and how to make the most of the climax. I tell him how to be aware of when he's losing his audience, and then I demonstrate, repeatedly.
He sees the humor in everything and gloats over it, finding joy in the people and situations around him.
He is full of dreams and plans and ideas. The majority of which are extremely expensive.
Sometimes I'm utterly surprised to realize how much I love him. He exhausts me and delights me and tolerates me by turns.
We will never be bored as long as Rowan lives with us. This summer he raised pumpkins. He planted this field with 100 seeds and then marveled in the drama of raising crops. Who knew a pumpkin field could yield such stories?
Rowan, we love you. You are an original, one-of-a-kind gift from God. We know that whatever you do for the Lord, you will do whole heartedly. And then you'll tell a story about it (making sure that everyone is maintaining eye contact). Because that is just who you are.
And we love it.
Most of the time.
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