Wesley's Opinion

One of the very first things that attracted me to Warren was our common ground in horses. Before I had even met him in person I had seen pictures of him riding and had been told he was a trainer. Soon after we first met we started riding together. I absolutely loved going to the arena or hitting the trail with Warren and have spent many, many hours riding with him. There has only been one major disagreement we've had in all of our dating, engagement and married life. It seems neither of us can come to a compromise on it.

Warren rides sorrels.

I ride paints.

I'm not sure how to emphasize this conflict enough for you to understand its importance. I mean...have you ever looked at the difference between sorrels and paints? Sorrels are so...........normal. I'm pretty sure there's like five sorrels to every colored horse in the world. Paints, on the other hand, are so unique. None of them are identical and they come in all colors and patterns, from black and whites to bay paints, buckskins, roans...there's tobianos, overos, toveros. The options for beauty are endless. 

This issue was so impressionable in our months of dating that I wrote a poem about sorrels and paints:

THE DEBATE

He rides a sorrel and I ride a paint

We debate at which one is better.

He says his sorrel is quick and athletic

I say my paint has outstanding genetics.

He rides along right beside me

And compares our colts to each other

His eyes are twinkling all the while

He always has a delighted smile.

I'm very proud of my flashy paint mare

Her eye is kind and willing,

Her feet move smoothly as we ride

She has three colors on her hide.

His sorrel is built exactly right

I have to admit he's smart.

He doesn't complain when there's work to do

But gladly follows Warren's cue.

We've gone round in circles for many months,

There's been no compromise.

It seems this is an endless debate:

Which is superior: sorrels or paints?

There's a secret I haven't told him yet

The real truth will soon be known.

I tease and argue without relent

And my opinion shall not be bent

But when it comes to the actual facts

Sorrel or paint doesn’t matter.

The color of my horse is trivial, you see,

Just as long as he's riding right next to me.

When our little Owen Wesley joined the family we knew that he would be decided on this matter. I mean, with something as pivotal as this debate, his opinion would come as naturally as he has my nose and Warren's mouth. Warren has been looking for a pony for him and has found some sorrels he thinks will do. I needed to get Owen's take on it before we spend money on a pony. So, I sat him down the other morning and laid out the debate in order to get his answer. I was careful not to discuss the situation beforehand, or attempt to steer his opinion to agree with mine. I simply asked two questions and he gave two answers:

Me: "Wesley, Daddy and I want to get you a pony. How about a sorrel?"

Wesley: 

Me: "No? We could look for a paint then."

Wesley:

If I had manipulated or persuaded Wesley's decision in any way I may have felt guilty the day we come home with a paint for him. Thank goodness I'm not that devious.  

Four Generations

What a privilege to raise our son with a heritage of grandparents and great-grandparents who know and love God!

Four generations: Warren, Mom Jennings, Owen Wesley and Grandma Larreau

One month old!

Baby Burrito

Wesley is particularly fond of his dad (he gets that from me). When he's fussy or crying I can try to soothe him but if I just give him over to Warren he'll calm right down. One of the reasons for this may be because Warren is so good at burrito-ing him. I know this sounds odd, but burrito-ing a baby is serious business.

You may have heard of baby burrito-ing under a different name: swaddling. Before Wesley was born Warren and I were taught how to swaddle an infant, which is supposed to help if they're fussy. If there would've been a class specifically for swaddling I would've been given an F. Seriously, I just can't get this thing right. Warren says I don't do it tight enough, but I swaddle Wesley until I wonder if his extremities are going to lose circulation and five minutes later he kicks out of it. Warren, on the other hand, has the swaddling thing down like a pro (I think he secretly practices when I'm not watching). He folds the blanket corner a certain way, then wraps from the right, then the bottom, then the left, and the end result is what we think looks like a burrito. Warren is so exceptional at burrito-ing that Wesley will sleep for hours and hours in his cozy blanket. When I've had a short night's rest and bedtime has finally arrived again, I can't describe my depth of thankfulness for my husband's skill of burrito-ing. 

And to think: I've been married to him for fifteen months and still haven't unearthed all of his hidden talents.

What's in a name?

When Warren and I were engaged we liked to talk about what we would someday name our kids. We both love family names and wanted to name each of our children significantly after someone in our family. I knew that Warren had been very close to his grandpa Larreau before he died, but one day when we were talking about him I was surprised and completely thrilled to find out that Grandpa Larreau's name was Wesley! Wesley has always been one of my very favorite names. Before we were even married Warren and I knew someday if we had a son we would name him Wesley.

When we found out we were having a boy we also knew that we wanted our son's first name to start with the letter O. Grandpa Larreau's first name was actually Otis, and his middle name Wesley, although he went by his middle name. When Warren was born, Mom and Dad J. wanted to give him the O.W. initials. Therefore, Warren's name is Onesimus Warren. We were so excited to name our little guy with the O.W. initials after Warren, along with naming him Wesley after Grandpa. We easily decided on Owen Wesley.

The only problem we now have is deciding whether to call our little man by his first name, or the traditional "W" middle name! Warren and I both love the name Owen so much we want it to get used. But, Wesley is one of our favorite names and is after Grandpa, so we don't want it to just be his middle name. Finally, after he was born we came up with a solution to this problem:

Sometimes we call him Owen.

Sometimes we call him Wesley!

 We love how both names fit different aspects of his personality and can't wait to see how he grows into them even more the older he gets. 

A name is one thing that will be with our son forever. I hope he has an incredible impact on someone's life the way his Grandpa Wes had on Warren's. I hope he grows into a man of character, integrity and uncommon kindness like his dad. What a privilege to let our son carry on tradition and family heritage with the name

 Owen Wesley Jennings.

 

He's here!

We're completely thrilled to announce the arrival of

Owen Wesley Jennings
Born on July 6th, 2012
Weighing 7 pounds, 3 ounces
and 20 3/4 inches long

He's perfect and we're so very blessed!

Baby Mine

Photos by Lacey Wilkie, In the Blink of an Eye Photography