The things they say . . .

He's starting young . . .

Owen (age 4) stated to my 28 year old friend who stopped by . . .

"Hey, how about we leave my mom and dad here with the kids and just you and me go out on a date."

You know age won't matter when she's 92 and he's 68 . . . it won't seem quite so odd then . . . umm, on second thought - yeah, it will . . .

more Easter . . .

The local Hawk family members got together at Ryan and Ruth's new house to celebrate 5 birthdays, search for Easter eggs, cut down trees and eat lots of food.

Buff is explaining the rules - find 24 eggs each -
and giving the heart-broken Kerry the news that she is too old to participate this year.

Buff explaining again that they only get 24 eggs - and there is one super egg with $5 in it . . .
and just as a reminder . . . they only get 24 eggs.

What you can't see here is Grandma requiring a posed pre-hunt photo while re-explaining that they ONLY get 24 eggs each.

Carra and Owen with their loot.
You can't tell here - but Carra had 29 eggs.
She wasn't listening and messed up the whole system . . .
Either that or she can't count.
(I'm sure this will be coming up at her next parent-teacher conference . . . ).

Then they played an exciting round of
"pin-the -tail-on-the-bunny."

But Brice decided to make it more exciting
and played "pin-the-tail-on-the-entertainment-center."
Obviously, Carra and Elaine were quite amused. . .

Elaine got another Webkinz horse for her birthday.
We were all relieved to hear that the two horses
are now officially married since they will be living together.
This is the official wedding kiss that Elaine
requested I put on the blog.
Congratulations.

And the highlight of the day was
when the Easter giraffe showed up.
We were trying to start a new Easter tradition . . .

But I'm not so sure I want to believe in this guy either . . .

Easter

In an attempt to redeem my failing "mother-of-the-year" status, I agreed to decorate eggs with my kids this year. I honestly believe it is the first time in my 12 year mothering career that I have done this . . . now you can see why this "mother-of-the-year" award is so fleeting. Young children, permanent egg stain & eggs just never seemed like a good combination to me. Besides nobody likes to eat boiled eggs except me (and occasionally Carra if armed with a full bottle of ranch dressing).

(An interesting story could be inserted here about an unwritten pre-nuptial agreement and boiled eggs - but that would be a rabbit trail - no Easter pun intended . . . )

I decided to go ahead and fight the fight upfront and not boil the eggs. I figured the kids won't eat them, but the kids will treasure them, the eggs will rot, the eggs will stink, the mom will throw the eggs away, the kids will cry, the mom will roll her eyes and never do this again.

So we didn't boil.

We blew.

(Can you see the vein popping out in his forehead??)

We dipped.



We spilled.


We drew.



We dunked.



We created.


And I survived.

I don't know if I'll get "mother-of-the-year" but in the end I did get happy kids, fun memories and a big mess . . . what more could a mother ask for (other than a maid)???

FIRE!!!!

Well, it seems it has been a while since we've had a good adventure story come from the Powers' house . . . let me take care of that little detail.

Kerry told her story about how the firemen came to her house . . .

Here is my story about the fire that came to our house . . .

1. He lit a match. (I know what you are thinking . . . He's 10 - he can reach them no matter where we put them. Kids are "in training" - not "trained" - unfortunately.)

2. He blew out the match. (Good boy.)

3. He threw the match into the trash can. (Uh-oh.)

4. The hot match lit the surrounding kleenex on fire. (Oh, junk . . . no pun intended)

5. The boy panicked.

6. He shut the door. (Maybe nobody will notice . . .)

7. He ran outside. (Yes, he left the rest of us to die without him . . . )

8. He continued to panic - but gained enough common sense (and courage) to come and warn us.

9. He told his mother - with the condition that she wouldn't get mad . . . (Now really, why would I get mad???)

10. His mother didn't get mad - but she did move very fast.

11. His mother screamed for his father - who came and saved the day. (My hero.)

12. There was absolutely no damage done - outside of a melted trash can. It happened on a tile floor - away from the walls and cabinets. It still stinks in there though - and there was ash everywhere.

13. The fire alarms never went off. (Now I am mad.) We are working on that. A grace gift of sorts to find out now - while we are still alive.

14. We are buying fire extinguishers too . . .

15. It all counts as school. Fire safety - home-school style . . . (I don't recommend the curriculum though . . .)

16. He was mortified - but is now laughing with the rest of us. It was an accident - but he is investing in a new trash can. Talk about learning your lesson the hard way!

Here is all that remains of the trash can . . .


Each adventure seems to be a bit more dramatic than the last. They are getting a bit to exciting for my blood.

Oh, wait, did I mention blood????

Thinking spring . . .

I love spring because it is warm(er) . . .

He loves spring because there is . . . MUD!!!!

Where is your favorite place to read????

Just so you know . . .

1. I do have other children other than Owen . . . Since I only ever seem to post about him - I will commit this post to Carra . . .

2. I am a twin. We look alike - and that is about where the similarities stop. For instance, she buys her children a kitten . . . I buy my children . . .

A MOUSE!

Seriously, this little mouse has finally experienced true love. I don't think he could be loved more than he is by this little girl. She holds him constantly and he climbs all over her - even up her sleeve. He even holds the noble name of . . . Chet. Of course, he has no idea how good he has it because technically he is a "feeder" - you know - for snakes. He was saved from certain doom and loved unconditionally. No really, I think there is a sermon illustration here about redemption. This could preach. (And now you also know why Buff writes his own sermons . . . .)

Actually, we also gained a hamster in this whole ordeal because that is what she wanted originally. The hamster turned out to be very "vicious" (to quote a heartbroken six year old). Brice liked the hamster so he traded her his mouse for him - and she fell in love. (See, this is where the sermon illustration kind of falls apart . . .) Now to get her to love cleaning out the cage . . .

3. Carra has also recently lost her thwo fronth theeth. It is very cute.



It is fun because she now has a place for her tongue . . .

And she is very excited because now she can do this . . .


Yeah, I don't get it either . . . but it is a good picture to keep around for those future potential boyfriends.

4. She is also doing well in school and has discovered she "loves" math facts. I considered getting her head examined, but chose to just give her a few worksheets instead. Because I thought it seemed reasonable, I gave her a worksheet with just a few problems on it so as to not overwhelm her and ruin a good thing here. She was very disappointed because she wanted a worksheet like Brice's - you know - with 100 math facts on it. So I agreed, found her a worksheet with 100 facts on it (+ 1's), set up her counting blocks and away she went . . .


I'm sure the novelty will wear off eventually - no really, this is the Powers' house . . . but I'll enjoy it while it lasts! If it sticks, we all know she didn't get it from her mother . . .

Owen who?

Some of you don't have the privilege of knowing Owen personally. Let's just say that he has caused me to rewrite my parenting model (over and over and over again) - and he is the child I should have had when I was 20. He is God's formula to protect me from becoming arrogant and to keep me pleading before His throne. (Some days I plead FOR Owen - but most days I am pleading for rescue FROM Owen.) He is a piece of work.

The last two weeks he has been rather sick. Very sick. But before you oooh and ahhh and feel really bad for me . . . . (or were you oohing and ahhing for him?) you have to understand that when he is sick he becomes the sweetest boy on the planet. When Owen is sick, he is calm, kind and sleeps a lot = a vacation for mom. All that was missing was the beach, a good book and something cold to drink.

For instance, there was a day when his fever got quite high and made him very lethargic. As the medication started to kick in, he perked up enough to ask for some ice cream. I took out a table spoon and plopped an average size scoop into his bowl and handed it to him. He looked up at me with a tender look and quietly said,

"Mom, I can't eat that much. Could you put some of it back, please?"

Seriously.

Who are you and what have you done with Owen?

Unfortunately, it was short lived.

Today he "sat on my bed" 3 times for screaming demands.

Yeah, he's better.

Is it mean to hope he gets sick again soon?

Name Change!

After watching this little guy play with Bandit, we decided

that the name Smokie didn't fit him. So...

his name, now, is:

Roodie Tucker :o)

Smokie Tucker and Bandit

Smokie and Bandit

This reminds me of a Looney Tunes Cartoon.
I say, I say... looky here sonny!

These are just for you, Carra!

Smokie can't wait to meet y'all!

Haircut

Before . . .

This was my vain attempt to "grow his hair out." I am convinced that there is no product out there that will make his hair lay down - I don't even think gravity would work.

He looks a bit like his great-grandpa Mo Hawk from his mother's side . . .

Ahh, much better . . .

Awana Grand Prix

The designer . . .

The design . . .
(and the mascot- for those unfamiliar with the video game world, the car is designed after the bullet on Mario Cart)

The race . . .

The winner . . .

He didn't come close to winning, but had an absolute blast otherwise. He did learn a thing or two about design and speed - and is already planning out his car for next year . . .

Oh, and he jumped very little . . . (inside insight for those of you who know Brice when he is excited.)

The things they say . . .

He's still talking . . .

This weekend all the kids stayed with my sister Kerry's family while Buff and I went to a church retreat.

Owen was overheard complaining in the living room,

"Ow! The cat stepped on my foot . . . and now my butt itches!"

And now you know Reason #568 of "why we aren't getting a cat" . . .

Mount Lester

Dad was so excited about his man-made snow Mountain, he wanted to share it with y'all!

We have named it Mount Lester!

Update of Owen's eye . . .

If I were to write out a description of our life, I think it would be sold in the comedy section . . .

We have seen the ophthlamologist 3 times in the last week due to the injury to Owen's eye (and they still don't have my consent form on file yet - I've signed it 3 times and every time they say I haven't signed it. Sounds like my house. It's around here somewhere - just not where it needs to be!)

On Friday, the doctor was concerned because the right eye was severely near-sighted and there was some difference with some of the dimensions of the inner eye (I don't know if I could explain it - ask Buff if you want the accurate scientific update). His right eye was reading negative 8 near-sightedness and his left eye was actually far-sighted. Apparently this was very extreme, but yet correctable with glasses.

Today. Three days later. Now his right eye is far-sighted. The near-sightedness is COMPLETELY gone. No lazy eye. No permanent damage. The whole vision issue was temporary and was indeed caused by the injury.

Sigh. It appears the roller-coaster has just screeched to a halt. Although, I'm not getting unbuckled yet just in case it takes off again. (We have a follow-up appt. in two weeks - just to make sure . . . )

So here is what it all means.

1. Owen will not need glasses.

2. Owen's amazing coordination makes complete sense again - and I feel better about my clumsiness (maybe I can use my eyes as an excuse after all).

3. Buff is relieved that Owen's future sport career has not been derailed and he may be able to take care of us in our retirement after all.

4. Brice is back in the dog-house.

And now I wonder what this week's story will be . . .

Memories

Playing with homemade play-doh:
Cost - "Free"
(I suppose the ingredients cost me something once upon a time.)

Painting with the "big" paints
(as apposed to the "little" watercolor / easier-to-clean-up-paints):
Cost: $1.99 a bottle

Playing hide and go seek
(and finding a really good spot in the laundry hamper):
Cost: FREE!

Digging in the bottom of the couch and finding untold treasures:
Cost: Saved me $25 because we found the missing library DVD!!!!!

Getting to spend a quiet night playing with the "little" kids
while dad took the "big" kids to a concert:
Cost: Priceless