I’m at my kitchen window, watching Jo in the back yard while I cook dinner. She is on her swing, and she kicks her flip flops off, all the while swinging much higher than I would like. I fight the urge to tell her to slow down. I know she’s safe. I want her to have fun.
She does slow down, though. Has she read my mommy mind? She comes running in, excited to tell me about her great idea. “Mom, do you have anything I can give the chickens for a treat? I want Roxanne to eat from my hand!” Our chickens are fairly friendly, but the newer ones to the flock will not eat from our hands, yet. She is determined.
I send her back out with some veggies from the fridge. She skips over to the coop, and holds out her offerings. I go back to my work. A few minutes later she brings my bowl back, empty. “Did they eat from your hands?” I so hope she answers me with a yes.
“Not this time. But I am going to try every day, and they will soon!” I love her positive outlook. I love her determination. I hope she keeps both throughout her life.