Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Another Powers' adventure . . .

There is always someone screaming around here. I don't pay much attention to it.

When the screaming is accompanied by "Oww," it makes me look.

When the screaming is accompanied by "Ow, I hurt myself - and there is blood so it's reawwy, reawwy bad!" (imagine the pitch in the voice getting higher and higher and more desperate with every word as you read that sentence), you now have my full attention.

And it was "reawwy, reawwy" bad.

I also like it when it is cut and dry - yeah, it needs stitches.

We only had our camera phones with us . . . but this time we remembered we could use them.


And I only got lightheaded . . . once . . .



It was all so very traumatic for the poor kid . . .


Here is his "brave" face . . . which magically disappeared when the doctor forgot where he was and started waving the needle around . . .

. . . and when he was crying that it hurt - and he meant his mother squeezing his legs too tightly and not his wrist . . .

Sorry about that, Owen.

Our wonderful nurse Kate distracted him well - because we all know how much he loves to talk. She distracted him a little too well . . .

We are now entering all emergency situations with a release form . . . that they have to sign. It will state something like this . . .

"Please do not hold these parents accountable for anything this child may possibly say while in your presence. If you choose to believe anything he says, you do so at your own risk. Please allow the parents a chance to explain themselves first . . ."

First - he informed everyone that blood tastes like corn on the cob.

Second - he informed everyone that "Liars go to hell."

You should have seen the nurse spin around in her seat. "OWEN! Who told you that?!!!!"

"My brover."

"Oh, he was just trying to scare you . . ."

Whew.

Then there was some comment to the tissue and muscles in our body being "meat" which lead him to ask if people ever eat dead people. Logical train of thought. Morbid thought, but logical.

It got the nurse's attention again.

The first thing the doctor asked us when he saw it was us needing his help again . . . "Now is he anything like his sister Carra when it comes to pain and stitches?"

There was fear and trepidation in his voice - and she was only 4 at the time he "experienced" her in pain. He hasn't forgotten. She left quite a mark.

So did Owen . . . for very different reasons.

He and Kate left the room giggling and shaking their heads.

When I dreamed of the Powers' family leaving a mark on history . . . this isn't what I had in mind.



And there you have it. Six stitches and a story to tell.

I know what you're thinking . . .

"But how did it happen?"

In Owen's words . . . it will be a running-on-and-on run-on sentence - because that is how he talks . . .

"Well . . . . I was an inja (translated ninja) and I was pretending that I could fly backwards and then stab my sword in the ground and then roll backwards and stand up but when I jumped off the chair I fwiced my hand on Brice's stupid book wight (yes, he said stupid) that he shouldn't leave waying around the wiving woom because it's dangerous."

Yes, because jumping off chairs, flying backwards and rolling on the ground are not at all dangerous - but book lights are.

Consider yourself warned.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Cooper on the front page of the Loveland Reporter Herald

Cooper Powers, 12, tries to escape the path of a snowball thrown by Ricky Martinez, 11, on Wednesday as the sixth-graders have a snowball fight while walking home from Bill Reed Middle School in Loveland. A winter weather system brought 1 to 2 inches of dry snow to Loveland and a high of 21 degrees Wednesday. Today’s high is expected to hit only 17, with a low of 2 below zero tonight. A bit more snow might fall this morning.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

The family . . .

This time each year I drag my family out kicking and screaming and tell them to stand still and smile. We have a Christmas picture to take and so help me this is going to be fun. We'll look like a happy family if it's the last thing I do.

It nearly was.




I've since seen this face in many of my dreams. Now you can see it too.


You're welcome.


Two seconds before this shot I heard, "Mom, I REALLY have to pee!"

Yep. Looks like it.

Really, Owen. Just one more picture.


We allowed all the kids to take their turn at shooting a picture of us.

Brice.


Carra. Wha-hoo. Both of my chins are in focus.


Owen.



I will not tell you what Buff was doing next to me in these shots to get them to "smile".

It wouldn't be proper.


But then things calmed some and I got some shots of my children as they really are.

Beautiful. Obedient. Smiling.

Stop laughing and start scrolling.





Mikayla - 13 years old
13 . . . Really??? Am I old enough to have a teenager???





Carra - 7 years


Yep, that's me.

Yep, that's Buff and me.




Owen - He'll be 5 years in 4 weeks.

We got his hair to stay down for 2 3/4 minutes.



Explain to me again how my "baby" is turning 5 . . . ?????


Brice - 10 years




This kid loves, loves, loves his dad. Good thing because he looks just like him.



And there you have it.

One big happy family.

Friday, November 27, 2009

13 . . . REALLY?????

Let's go back in time . . .

13 years ago . . .

It snowed the day before Thanksgiving.

Remember?

13 years ago . . .

My youngest brother played his last high school basketball game.

13 years ago . . .

We watched the movie Independence Day.

13 years ago today . . .

I became a mother.

Seriously. . . She looks ticked. They woke her up from a wonderful deep sleep. Redressed her. Denied her food. Then they took her picture.

I'd be ticked too.

And now 13 years later we have this . . .

Apparently she forgave us for the injustices she endured . . . because she is smiling.

Whew.

So far so good . . . We have officially survived one day with a teenager in the house.

So far, she has no extra body piercings and no pink hair.

Whew.

Happy Birthday, Mikayla.

You love life and feel deeply.

Thank you for being you.

Thank you for being ours.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

I was tired . . .

sooooo tired . . . sleepy, worthless tired . . .

so I went for a walk.

I really wanted to wake up . . . so I took the two littlest honyocks with me.

I walked . . . .

They ran . . .

I walked . . .

They waited for me to walk faster . . .

. . . trust me . . . I only "walk faster" . . . you don't want to see me run.


I walked . . .

They talked . . .
"Mom, I don't want to live in an apartment because they don't have a downstairs - in case a tornado comes."
"Mom, (insert friend's name) basement is . . . AWESOME . . . "

"Mom, how does the mailman know which house to bring the mail to? Does the envelope say 'the white house with the garage and bushes'? "


"Mom, is Elaine 'kind of' our cousin? It just doesn't make sense because Aunt Ruth isn't your sister."


I walked . . .

They played . . .

I walked . . .

They read . . ."Mom, I think it's a bad word . . . B .. u .. tt .. head . . . or something . . ."

. . . . and then I told them what it REALLY said . . .

I walked . . .

We saw . . .



All heading Northwest. Did someone change the migration rules recently or is this just another effect of global warming?



I walked . . .

and I woke up . . .

I love fall.