Denver Mommy Blogger, Family Travel Writer, Mom Blog :: Crazy Bloggin Canuck

How you know you're raising Casanova

2012-01-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

Bode is a man's man. If you were to give him the choice between hanging out with boys vs. girls, he would choose boys 100 percent of the time.

However, when there are no boys available, he rises to the occasion and hooks his sweet sinkers into many an adoring lassie.

Case-in-point: yesterday we went to our neighborhood skate park. When we arrived, there were no girls on the playground so Bode hung out with Denai, a cute girl from his kindergarten class. Or rather, Denai hung onto him. Denai is a funny one and looked like she was having the time of her life.

I previously thought she was a bit of a tomboy because she hangs out with all the boys.

Now I know she is just boy-crazy.

As she went to leave, I overheard her boasting to another little girl:

"I spent the WHOLE TIME with Bode!!!!" Pause for dramatic effect. "YAAAAAAAAAY!"

And so it begins.

The Boy Conspiracy

2012-01-24T13:30:00.000-07:00

Haddie is in the middle of what we hope will be her final round of swim lessons before she tries swim team. The schedule is later than I would like and we don't arrive home until 6:30 p.m.

Our family thinks they are going to die if we don't eat by 6 p.m. Anyone else seeing a problem here?

Though Jamie is great in the kitchen, I do 99% percent of the cooking and I'm hesitant to ask him for help because he's so darn busy. But one night, I didn't have a chance to prepare anything so asked him if he and Bode could be in charge of warming up leftovers so dinner would be ready when we walked in the door.

They both agreed and I was charmed to arrive home to both boys in aprons.

They even had flour on their faces and apparently had been working hard.

Or not.

There in the middle of the kitchen table was a pizza that looked suspiciously like it was purchased from Domino's.

"Where did you buy the pizza?"
"We made that pizza. What do you think we've been doing the past hour?"
"Bode, be honest with Mommy. Did you make that pizza?"
"Yes, what Daddy said. We've been working hard!"

Gotta give the boys credit: they stuck to their story and I almost started believing them until I found the pizza box outside in the garbage.

Here's a tip for the boy conspiracy for next time: destroy all evidence.

And do Pizza Hut next time.

On Raising Ying and Yang

2012-01-20T07:12:00.001-07:00

I couldn't have had two more different kids if I tried. Where Bode is easy-going, Hadley is bossy. Where Bode can't draw a picture to save his soul, Hadley is already a gifted little artist. Where Hadley can barely count to 100, Bode is doing equations in his head.

Opposites.

Over the past couple of months their differences have come into play, starting with their report cards. Bode excelled in math and reading and squeaked by in the arts. Hadley was just the opposite. Bode loves any sport with a ball. Hadley's affinity is toward solo activities like skiing, hiking and mountain biking.

And then there is swimming.

Haddie is a fish in the water. Dear Bode is a beached whale. In November, we took swim lessons and their progress reports were very telling. Hadley skipped an entire level and will now be among the youngest kids in the very highest class. She even asked me if she could go swim laps.

After asking her what the heck that meant, I had an all-important question:

WHY?!

Then there is Bode. He flunked his Trout class but I'm comforted that this is his first time flunking that particular level and he only fell short on two skills: doing the front stroke and chicken-airplane-soldier unassisted.

I can't do 'em either.

We had a sordid history with Minnows, the previous class. The entire premise of Minnows is to dunk your head, something Bode refused to do for the first four years of his life. He failed that class two years in a row and I had lost hope until I bought a private swim lesson for him at a silent auction. The wonderful instructor gave him the confidence he needed and I excitedly enrolled him in Minnows for the third time.

He tried his best, he really did, but that teen-aged instructor ended up flunking him again for a really silly reason.

I'm not proud of what unfolded after that but he was so proud of his efforts and I just couldn't damage the kid's ego even more so I told him he passed the class.

I don't regret doing it. He was en par skill-wise with his classmates in the next level and he's doing much better in the water, His problem is he is my offspring and though he'll dunk and is learning to do the front crawl without assistance, when he comes up for air, he looks like Fat Kitty clawing to get out of the bathtub.

It ain't pretty. But we'll keep trying.

And just thank our lucky stars he's got other sports to fall back on.

In life, there are winners and there are losers

2012-01-19T07:00:00.001-07:00

Hadley is getting cocky about her artistic prowess and who can blame her? She can out-draw me anyday.

So, when she started taunting she could draw a better peacock, I challenged her to a peacock dual. Mine:
And I'm pretty darn proud of it because I was sorely tempted to do a Google image search. I mean, what colors are peacocks really? How many feet do they have?

Then Hadley's:
Actually, this isn't her best one. As an overachiever, she made two drawings and gave the better one to her teacher. Basically, she blew me out of the water.

Of course, I wanted to cover my bases in our little dual.

Me: "If I win, you owe me a back massage."
Her: "OK, what if I win?"
Me: "You still owe me a back massage."
Her: "MOMMMMMY!"
Me: "Look at it this way: It's a win-win situation."

For me, at least.

What vehicle are you driving?

2012-01-18T07:00:00.001-07:00

I am officially in the market for a new vehicle.

Actually, I didn't even know I was looking until I was asked by Nissan to be a part of their #HolidayQuest campaign to test-drive their 2012 Nissan Quest. As my kids eagerly explored the minivan and I inhaled that glorious new-car smell while fiddling with the iPod connectivity, I knew it was out with the old (my 2003 Honda Pilot) and onto the new (vehicle TBD).

I was originally supposed to test-drive the Quest over the winter break and we planned a road-trip to Utah. But when a house fire caused tens of thousands of dollars worth of damage to my parent's home in Canada

CLICK HERE TO READ AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM

The Day I Thought We Were Going to Die--Part II

2012-01-13T07:00:00.004-07:00

If you're just tuning in, be sure to first read The Day I Thought We Were Going to Die, Part I.

So, where were we? Right. The Wyoming freeway was closed due to snow, wind and suicidal conditions and my dear husband came up with an alternate route.

I will never again trust his “alternate routes” without thorough research.

“Look here!” he pointed to his iPhone’s GPS. Let’s just take Route 14, which runs kind of parallel to I-90, connect with Route 16 and then cut back down to Buffalo. Then, we'll be able to get back on the freeway."

Several cars were heading in that direction so I figured it would be fine.

What was not fine was Plan B.

"Let's keep calling the WY road conditions. If I-90 opens up, we'll take North Piney Road back to the freeway."

Can't see North Piney Road on this map? That is because it is too small and sketchy to even be included. (It's located north of Lake de Smet).

As we followed the caravan of cars along Highway 14, conditions were blustery but plowed and drivable. When we reached the turnoff for North Piney Road, I learned via WY's road hotline that the freeway had reopened. "Let's do it!" Jamie announced.

But then I spotted North Piney, which was the very definition of remote. Dread enveloped my body. As Jamie tried to turn off, we started sliding, almost causing an accident and augmenting my alarm.

"Let's just keep going on Highway 14." I begged. "This just feels wrong." But Jamie was already en route. Within a couple of minutes, North Piney's conditions worsened. Only one truck had dared to traverse the deep snow earlier that morning and Jamie attempted to follow its tracks on the unplowed road.

Yes, I did say attempted.

My coping skills were nonexistent as I replayed a television special where a young family got lost and then stuck in the snowy Oregon mountains after accidentally taking an abandoned service road. After several days, the father James Kim left his stranded family to seek help..and was found dead in a canyon.

I played it out in my mind. I would go for help. I was the Canuck. I was strong. I liked snow. I took a mental note of the few farmhouses we passed, determining they would be our lifeline.

And then we got stuck and all plans went out the window. I freaked. And cried. We didn't have anything to dig us out and the road was A-B-A-N-D-O-N-E-D. To Jamie's credit, he was calm as we rocked back and forth, eventually surging forward.

For the first time, Hadley looked up from watching a movie and clued into her surroundings. "THEY NEED TO PLOW THIS ROAD!!!!!"

Gee, you think?

We miraculously made it to I-90. "I didn't think we were going to get out of there," Jamie later confessed. And then I thanked him for waiting to tell me. Someone needed to keep it together.

That wasn't the end of our troubles. We heard more reports the freeway was closed again in Casper, WY and Denver had its own problems with closures due to high winds. Casper was still two hours away so I prayed we wouldn't have to spend New Year's Eve stuck in Wyoming.

I started to make calls to local hotels just in case. When we arrived in Casper, freeway closure signs abounded. As we started surrendering to the inevitable, a miracle happened: in a decidedly Parting of the Red Sea-esque moment, the freeway reopened at the exact moment we arrived.

Just call us Moses. Or Aaron. Heck, Children of Israel works, too.

We squeaked into Denver that night several hours later than anticipated. I grabbed a bucket of KFC, toasted the New Year via last year's Ball Drop on YouTube and was contentedly passed out by 9:30 p.m.

And there's no way I would have rather ended a decidedly crummy 2011 than snuggled up in my own bed.

The day I thought we were going to die--Part I

2012-01-12T07:00:00.002-07:00

Last summer, I braved a solo trip with the kids from Denver to Salt Lake City to Boise, Idaho to Sandpoint, ID to Calgary, Canada. Jamie flew to Canada and we later drove back to Denver via Waterton and Glacier National Park, a total of almost 50 hours in the car.

When we made the last-minute decision to drive to Calgary for Christmas, I knew what that entailed: often-dangerous winter driving. But as I checked road conditions, the weather was clear. Knowing I couldn’t drive 19 hours straight alone with both kids, I opted to overnight in Billings, MT. I even found a great hotel, Big Horn Resort, that had the largest indoor waterpark in Montana.

I even willingly swam. That's really saying something for me.

My intrepid travelers and I made the trip in record time—8 hours from Denver to Billings and exactly 9 hours from Billings to Calgary. Jamie flew up right before Christmas and we planned to drive back together before New Year's. One would think the return trip would be even smoother. You know--family togetherness and all?

Only it wasn't. My Facebook updates tell the story:

Day 1

Dear U.S. Immigration: Maybe try to use your resources to tackle your colossal illegal immigrant problem vs. detaining AND fingerprinting a legal U.S. Resident at the border.

And then a few minutes later:

On another note, we're driving through Boonieville Montana and it's swarming with Federal Agents and tanks. Either they're 1) doing a huge raid/top-secret security 2) filming a movie or 3) onto me.

Day 2

Federal agents, border detention, that's one thing (OK, actually 2). But nothing could have prepared us for The Sheridan Incident.

Shortly after we left Billings at 6:30 a.m., we encountered snow and slick roads. It was dark and I was driving—a bad combination. Though slippery, I managed to slowly navigate for the next 2.5 hours as Jamie promised he’d take over as driver once we reach Sheridan, WY.

But it didn't happen:

I-90 CLOSED in Sheridan. Prospect of spending New Year's Eve holed up in a seedy WY hotel is pretty much on par with the rest of our 2011.

I've been on numerous road trips but have never encountered an entire freeway closure without a detour. It had snowed overnight and that, coupled with extreme wind, make for white-out and icy conditions from Sheridan to Buffalo, WY. After an hour of waiting, Jamie found on alternate route. And then the games began.

Tune in tomorrow to read about our Shortcut of Death.

A true story of honesty

2012-01-10T07:00:00.000-07:00

Dad: Well, your mom and I were thinking about coming to Denver next year for Christmas.
Me: That would be great.
Dad: Especially after we got uninvited this year and you decided to go to Utah.
Me: What are you talking about? You were never uninvited to come visit us!
Dad: We weren't?
Me: No. We never invited you in the first place!

As a side note, I did tell him they always have an open invitation. :)

A plea for help for a domestic daughter by a non-domestic mother

2012-01-09T07:00:00.002-07:00

Already at 7, my daughter Hadley's domestic prowess is surpassing my own. Her fuel was fired when she returned home from visiting my parents at Christmas with many of my domestic goddess mother's crafting items in tow.

A glue gun!
Wreaths!
Ribbon!
Glitter!
Fabric paints!
Weird netting stuff I don't know what to call it!
Rafia!

Those are her exclamation marks, not mine.

But it gets worse CLICK TO READ ON AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM

The Gully

2012-01-06T07:00:00.000-07:00

One of my fondest memories of growing up in Calgary is sledding The Gully across the street from my house. Of all the destinations I've visited, I've never found a valley that remotely compares to (in Jamie's words): "that snow hill of death."

Note: This is the same man who, when we visited a few years ago, brazenly said before launching off a jump, "I have a few days left on my health insurance so I may as well do this now."

Basically, The Gully renders your senses obsolete.

It snowed two days before we arrived in Calgary and that was the only time it snowed during our entire trip. Shortly after we arrived, the kids and I headed to The Gully, bringing back a flood of my childhood memories.

From the trek.
To scoping out this blissful bowl.

To playtime.
Where I took one of my favorite new pictures of Bode.
Because those cheeks are so darn squeezable.

Quite predictably, Adventure Girl fearlessly careened down the hill while Bode took a more cautious, responsible approach. At one point, she started tearing down the hill, right in the path of Bode and me.

We threw ourselves out of the way and Bode unleashed a furious rant.

"HADLEY, YOU ALMOST KILLED US"....(pause for dramatic effect). "AND THEN YOU WOULD BE WITHOUT A BROTHER AND A MOMMY."

At least someone in this family is the voice of reason on The Snow Hill of Death.

Walking in a (kind of) winter wonderland

2012-01-05T07:00:00.016-07:00

I love winter in Canada but the weather was unseasonably mild so we were unable to go skating on the lakes or cross-country ski on the golf course. Plus, the fire destroyed all of Dad's recreational equipment.

Kinda an important piece of the puzzle.

And so we took the dogs for a walk every day. Sometimes it was just around the neighborhood, other times it was an adventure. Like the Southland Off-leash Park where we crossed the Bow River and trekked to Carburn Park. That walk's excitement: we spotted coyotes just a stone's throw away.
Though after scoping out the woosy meat selection, they deemed the dogs unworthy to attack.

Bode's threatening howl helped, too.

Our secret entrance off Deerfoot Trail to this overlook of the Bow is always fun.

But hands down, our favorite trek this year was when Jamie joined us to explore Bow River Valley Ranch. The frozen falls on the river were sooooo cool.
Literally.
Especially compared to how it looked last summer.

Vs.

This time around, thrill-seeking Shanty wanted to drag Bode down to the Bow River but he resisted.
I couldn't really blame the kid. Remember when I talked about those mild temperatures? That means the Bow River is the very definition of THIN ICE.

But we walked on it anyway.

Confirmation that Canucks really do know how to walk on water.

A Memorable Canadian Christmas

2012-01-03T12:40:00.005-07:00

After my parent's house fire, we changed our holiday plans to go to Utah and instead headed north of the border. It's been a few years since I came to Calgary for Christmas and it's admittedly my favorite place to be. The reasons are innumerable that include my zany and fun family but it comes down to just one thing: it's home.

And really, you just can't compete with that.

One night, my dad and I took the kids to the Calgary Nativity Pageant. Our church has put on this production for 46 years and it's one of my favorite traditions. It has evolved into an impressive production with a professional set, killer sound system and live animals. One thing that has never changed is the venue: it's always been held outdoors at Heritage Park.

Because didn't you know: Bethlehem totally had sub-zero temperatures, too?

But Christmas Eve is hands down my favorite party ever. My brother Pat and sister-in-law host every year and have a huge spread of appetizers, desserts and candy.
We always start the festivities with playing the pipe bells that my Grandpa Wilde cut years ago. I also took the bells to Bode's kindergarten class and Haddie's second graders for their Christmas parties.
My family was only moderately better than them.

And that is after years of practice.

Then it's onto the left-right game....
...wherein it is revealed we can't decipher our left from our right.

But the climax of the evening is the gift exchange. To let you know just how seriously we take this game, my family often shops months in advance for just the right gifts to battle it out over. Some of the winners included a magic show (that has turned Hadley into an amateur magician), light sabers for Bode, and bacon candy canes that were unceremoniously ripped out of my possession.
But the real humdinger of the night was when my brother Pat, on the last trade of the evening, got stuck with the Santa toilet paper and pink, vibrating slippers.

Every year, Jane buys everyone matching PJs but this year, my niece Emily made them for most everyone for her final Personal Progress project for church.

Except for the late-comers like us who decided we were coming just a few days before Christmas. Regardless, Jane made sure we were still adequately outfitted.
As for Christmas day, I can't believe I didn't take any pictures! The kids had already opened most of their gifts in Denver so it was nice to not be so focused on the material side of the holidays.

Though they were certainly not lacking with a bike for Bode, a desk for Haddie, movies, Wii games, craft supplies, clothes, and movies. Probably the favorite present was from my mom who saved me from a parenting fail. My kids have always loved stuffed animals and I have never taken them to Build-a-Bear.

I know, Bad Mom.

But who can blame me after seeing those prices? For two animals and two outfits, my mom paid $90. "Birthday Cake" bear is Haddie's newest treasure and Bode fell in love with another "Tabby."

Those were sure swell selections but I was remiss when they turned me down for my bear de choix: A Canadian Bear in a Mountie Costume.

Serves me right for birthing Americans.

Declutter resolution?

2012-01-02T08:54:00.002-07:00

Is one of your New Year's resolutions to declutter?

If so, you definitely need to check out this calendar that gives tips for decluttering your life, one easy day at a time.

P.S. And no, that's not a picture in my house. But I sure wish it was!

New Year's Resolution Failure

2012-01-02T06:00:00.001-07:00

2011 was a rough year medically for Jamie. If it wasn't his heart problems, he had a constant barrage of rheumatism attacks, resulting in many sleepless and painful nights.

Between his unrelenting work schedule, bad health and The Great Pumpkin, I felt like a single mom for much of last year. Sunday (New Year's Day), he went home from church early due to stomach pains. When the kids and I returned home and I saw him doubled over on the couch, I sympathetically proposed a solution.

"I'll tell you what, Jamie. How about for 2012 you make the resolution to STOP BEING SICK?"

Pause...before I continued.

"Oh wait. It's January 1 and you've already broken that resolution."

Here's for hoping (and praying) for a better year for him.

Happy New Year's interviews!

2012-01-01T14:00:00.001-07:00

Blogging is a great way to record our family's history but one thing I don't do a great job of is making videos.

So, when I stumbled upon this mom who does annual New Year's Day interviews with her kids, I thought there's no better way to start. She had a great list of questions to help commemorate the year and also your child's likes/dislikes in a cute format.

Some of her suggested questions:

1. What is your name?
2. How old are you?
3. What is your mom’s name?
4. What does your mom do during the day?
5. What is your dad’s name?
6. What does your dad do during the day?
7. What is your favorite color?
8. What is your favorite thing to eat? (what don’t you like to eat?)
9. Who are your friends?
10. What is your favorite song? Can you sing it for me?
11. What is your sister’s name? (this is fun because they don’t always say the name correctly)
12. What is your favorite place to go?
13. What is your favorite thing to do?
14. What do you like about your Mommy? (Daddy, sister, etc.)
15. What do you want to be when you grow up?
16. What is your favorite book?
17. What does (sister/brother) like to do?
18. What are you most excited for in 2012?

I don't expect any of you to sit through my kids' interviews (about 4 minutes each) because, let's face it--stuff like this is for the grandparents (though hearing Bode's sound business plan for his future vocation and Haddie singing an unintentionally abridged version of Silent Night may be worth it).

I encourage you to think of a fun way to mark the beginning of 2012.

Bode interview
http://youtu.be/hCM6lsAXfug

Hadley Video
http://youtu.be/UuOEiaQqoi0

==================

And yes, I know I jumped ahead to New Year's without even detailing Christmas but my head is still reeling from our 22-hour drive back from Canada, the pile of laundry and the Christmas decorations that need to get taken down.

No complaints from me, though. I'm just happy to be home after a decidedly hellish drive back where they closed the freeway, I thought I was going to die during Jamie's suicidal detour and we almost spent New Year's Eve holed up in a seedy Wyoming hotel (details later). We miraculously made it back to Denver and celebrated with KFC and Martinelli's at midnight.

OK, so maybe it was only 8:15 p.m. and we watched a YouTube video of the ball dropping on Times Square from 2011.

Not that the kids noticed anyway. When we poured Bode his drink, he proclaimed, "I'm going to drink dis...and den I'm gonna get craaaaazy!"

Apparently 2012 will involve a Martinelli's intervention for Bode.

As for me, it is our tradition to go out for Chinese food in Canada and my fortune cookie read:

You will soon be confronted with unlimited opportunities.

After the tough year we've had, I'm looking forward to it.

Happy New Year!

Snowmamas SnowFun in Park City

2011-12-27T21:30:00.000-07:00

To say these last weeks have been crazed would be an understatement.

There was the Snowmamas Summit early-December at Park City Mountain Resort. To see the fun article I wrote about how I would spend 72 hours in Park City, be sure to go here.

We cowboy karaoked at Cisero's wherein it was confirmed if you do not sing, dance or at least drink you have NO BUSINESS performing. Fortunately my talents lie elsewhere like careening down Gorgoza Park's suicidal tubing hill.

We also race down the alpine coaster and were among the first to try Park City Mountain Resort's brand spankin' new Flying Eagle Zip line. I'm really excited about this addition because it's a great starter zipline for my kids to try in March (there is a 42" minimum height requirement).

Maggie and I were the first of the Snowmamas to test it out and the ending is a bit startling (and loud), hence our expressions.
In case you were wondering: startling + me = a bad mix.

I skied the first day with the group but it was my first time on skis since my knee surgery and I woke up sore the next day. I opted to skip out and explore Park City, starting on Main Street and then hiking up Daly Canyon as I passed numerous historic mining sites. When the plowed road turned to deeper snow, I thought, "This could end badly."
That is not the first time I've ever harbored that sentiment.

Fortunately, it was a glorious hike and great to have some much-needed alone time at a haunt only known to the locals.

Jamie called me during my hike.

Him: How's it going?
Me: Good. Knee was a bit sore so I opted out of skiing today.
Him: That's good. So, what are you doing?
Me: Going snow hiking.
Him: It is just me or does that not make any sense?
Me: It's just you. So, what are you doing?
Him: It's been snowing non-stop in Denver so the kids and I were going to go sledding.
Me: You mean that kid with the busted arm?
Him: (Ignoring me): It took me about a half hour to bundle them up in their ski clothes. I then had to climb up into the rafters in the garage to grab the sled. Bode was down below and told me to drop it down so he could catch it.
Him: You mean that kid with the busted arm?
Him: (Ignoring me): So I dropped it down, he grabbed it, hurt his arm even more so we didn't go sledding after all.

It's kind of worrisome when I (the one hiking with the sore knee) am the only one making sense in this family.

Christmas Card Love

2011-12-23T19:00:00.000-07:00

Chaos, travels and budget prevented me from sending our annual Christmas newsletter. But if we had, it would have looked something like this.

Which is only a little bit better than this Puerto Rican mayor's card that went viral last week.

Huh?

But definitely no worse than the card my brother Pat sent.

A coincidence it's from the Johnsons?

On a MUCH different note, l recently read about the Fosters who have been making a holiday video in lieu of Christmas cards (watch past Christmas videos posted on the sidebar). It's just simply charming. The talented husband works in video production so if you're in Arizona, I'd look them up. I know it's been a lean year for them financially.

Jingle Bells - Christmas Video Greeting 2011 from Jared Foster on Vimeo.

For a behind-the-scenes glimpse at the production process (two days hard at work), go here.

And last but not least, the Kelser family Christmas video. Had to chuckle at the parody of the annoying Target lady but I love that the ENTIRE extended family got involved (no way I could convince Jamie's family to do this; they already think I'm that crazy Target lady).

But I'm thinking we need to step it up next year for our Christmas cards.

If 2012 doesn't swallow us whole (see top photo).

Merry Christmas!

Naughty or Nice? You decide!

2011-12-21T09:00:00.001-07:00

The Food

We've crammed a lot in the past two weeks, including baking and delivering all of these goodies to our friends and neighbors (offerings included Christmas French vanilla cake pops, caramel toffee squares, Almond Rocha and whipped shortbread).

We've done this for several years now and when my neighbor Monica opened the door, she exclaimed, "I really like this Johnson family tradition!)
She's not the only one (7,000 calories later).

The Nice Hadley

Hadley has been participating in her class choir after school to perform Christmas carols at a local retirement home. She had a lot of fun singing, dancing and kickin' it with the boys (see bottom right corner).

But what I was most proud of her for was the way she worked the room afterward, meeting and delighting the seniors. The girl knows how to work it when she wants to.

I had a memorable chat with a sharp-as-a-whip, respectful, funny 95-year-old man, Cliff. He was a college professor for a number of years and has been a guest columnist for the Denver Post this past year. We made a great connection and Bode and I plan to start visiting him regularly to play board games (Bode is obsessed).

With board games, not Cliff. But guaranteed, Cliff isn't going to be the kind of guy to let him win.

The Bad Hadley

Hadley and Bode get along really well most of the time. Except for when they don't. They both value their personal space so last week, each of them wrote messages on the white boards in their rooms, banning the other from entering.

Bode's said something along the lines of "No Hadley."

Keep in mind the kindergartner's writing abilities are a bit limited.

Hadley, on the other hand, wrote a soliloquy about why Bode should not enter her room. Ever the artist, she also illustrated it.

Me: "Is that a picture of you KICKING BODE?!!!"
Her: "Yes, I'm kicking him out of my room."
Me: "Maybe that's not very nice."

But I didn't interfere. A couple of days later, she erased the picture on her own and I praised her for it.

Me: "I'm proud that you removed that picture. It's not nice to even joke about things like that."
Her: "But I wasn't joking."

Jury is still out if she made Santa's "nice" list this year.

Bring Us Some Figgy Pudding (However the Crap It's Made)

2011-12-20T07:00:00.001-07:00

If there is anything my family does well, it is making...and eating food. Not just quality but also quantity.

Our Christmas menu is embarrassingly (and deliciously) expansive. On Sunday we planned out our menu and I RAVED about the Figgy Pudding my sister-in-law Tammy made last year. Because it was out-of-this-world amazing, I volunteered to make it with a disclaimer.

Me: "It's not something I would have EVER tried. I mean, what is Figgy Pudding made out of? Prunes? Dates?"

Them: "Errr, figs."

Blame it on the blonde.

============

But here's the funny thing about it all: IT WAS ACTUALLY DATE PUDDING! So maybe I'm not so blonde and off-kilter as I thought. Seriously, try this. I don't EVER eat dates but it was so delicious.

Sticky Date Pudding

From the Dalvay by the Sea Inn

Pudding

1 3/4 c. packed pitted dates - about 10 ounces

2 cups water

1 1/2 tsp. baking soda

2 c. flour

1/2 tsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. ground ginger

1/2 tsp. salt

6 tbsp. unsalted butter, softened

1 c. sugar

3 large eggs

Coarsely chop dates. Place in saucepan and simmer uncovered in water about 5 minutes. Remove pan from heat and stir in baking soda. Let foaming mixture stand for 20 minutes. In a separate bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, ginger, and salt. In another separate bowl, beat together butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in eggs 1 at a time and beat well after each addition. Add flour mixture in 3 batches, beating after each addition until just combined. Add date mixture and stir with a wooden spoon until just combined. Pour batter into a buttered and floured baking pan and set pan in a larger baking pan. Add enough hot water in larger pan to reach halfway up side of smaller pan. Bake at 375 degrees about 70 min. (or more), until an inserted knife or toothpick comes out clean. Remove smaller pan from water bath and cool slightly to a warm temperature.

Toffee Sauce

3/4 c. plus 2 tbsp. unsalted butter

1 1/3 c. packed light brown sugar

1 c. heavy cream

1/2 tsp. vanilla

In a large heavy saucepan, melt butter over moderate heat and add brown sugar. Bring mixture to a boil, stirring occasionally, and stir in cream and vanilla. Simmer sauce, stirring occasionally, until thickened slightly, about 5 minutes. Cool sauce slightly to a warm temperature.

Cut warm pudding into squares. Serve with warm sauce and vanilla ice cream.

Enjoy!

The Christmas Mystery of the Missing Dinosaur Egg

2011-12-19T06:55:00.000-07:00

My family has had quite a year of multiple hospital visits (heart surgery, anyone?) and ongoing misfortunes that would render even Murphy (as in the "Law") speechless.

I resolved to kick 2011 to the curb by doing my holiday shopping and preparations early so I could feel like I had at least something under control.

Oh, how wrong I was.

To support our elementary school, I decided to have my kids purchase gifts for each other at the two-day traveling holiday toy store. The idea was to send them to school with money and let them pick out a gift for each other.

Sound easy? Apparently The Easy Button does not exist for Murphy's Law. CLICK TO READ ON AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM

How Bob made a liar out of me

2011-12-15T07:00:00.000-07:00

I need to preface this post by saying Jamie is an upstanding, honest guy.

Usually.

But apparently he has weaknesses, as was recently evidenced when a certain massage chain started calling him in November. Only they weren't calling him, they were asking Bob. Jamie repeatedly told them Bob did not live here but it was our phone number and our address in the computer under Bob Johnson. And a load of pre-paid massages.

Shortly before Jamie's birthday, they called him again telling him that he (a.k.a. Bob) hadn't had a massage in months and his credits were about to expire.

Jamie explained the mix-up but the therapist didn't care who took them. "Well, someone needs to use these up by the end of the year."

And so Bob did. Or at least Jamie did in his name. Yep, that's right people. For Jamie's 41st birthday, he treated himself to a massage (or in his words, "a birthday miracle"). When he arrived at his appointment, he hung out in the waiting room for a while when the therapist called his name. And then called it again. Suddenly, Jamie tuned in. They were calling for Bob. "That's ME!!!!" he said not-so convincingly.

I thought this little trespass was behind us until that same massage chain called me last week asking for (who else) Bob.

"Bob isn't available," I carefully said.
"Well, tell him there is a problem with the appointment he made on Saturday. His favorite therapist Cara isn't available."
"Oh."
"So, what should we do? Switch him to another therapist?"
"Um, I'm not sure."
"Well, if we don't hear back from Bob we'll assume that's OK."
"Sounds good."

Looks like the real Bob will be in for a little surprise when he shows up for his appointment this weekend.

And I didn't even get a massage out of it.

Snowman Blasphemy

2011-12-14T07:00:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite parts of Christmastime is introducing my kids to all of my favorite holiday shows. On Saturday, I was working on my laptop while distractedly watching "Frosty Returns" with the kids.

Someone on the television broke into an off-key song.

"He's a terrible singer," I observed.

Hadley (totally offended): "You're talking about FROSTY."

Good thing it wasn't Santa.

Why Pinterest is my new obsession (and I want it to be yours)

2011-12-13T07:00:00.005-07:00

Despite the fact I'm familiar with many of the cutting-edge social media technologies, I am often hesitant to adopt them because I'm already too busy with blogging, Twitter, Facebook and my iPhone.

However, my latest obsession Pinterest.com has surpassed them all.

And believe me, that's really saying something.

I've gone from being a bored cook to being constantly inspired to try the onslaught of new, fabulous recipes. The endless barrage of crafts and styles motivate me to action and I am completely addicted to the holiday section where I have found a collection of the most innovative, creative and delicious offerings on the Web that are updated every second.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself here. If you're CLICK HERE TO READ ON AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM

The fire and my family's giving tree

2011-12-11T18:00:00.001-07:00

On Saturday, there was a huge fire at my childhood home. My dad was in the garage and had climbed up into the rafters to retrieve their Christmas decorations.

Something you should know about my parents: they've lived in that house for 43 years. My mom used to be a successful gift shop/restaurant owner and threw weddings as a side business so our house is literally chocked to the hilt with many of her treasures.

As Dad climbed up in the rafters, he used a halogen light. He made several trips into the house and forgot about the light. It didn't take long for the decorations to ignite. Our neighbor first saw the fire, called 911 and raced over to my parent's.

The garage was completely charred in a matter of minutes.

Three fire trucks, police and EMTs were on the scene. My niece lives on the other side of town and could see the plume of smoke from several miles away, with flames two stories high (that likely flared when the gas blew).

As many of you know, my mom is in poor health and the EMTs ushered my parents off to a neighbor's. Nothing was salvageable: their cars, skis, bikes, skates, lawn mower, generator, extensive collection of tools and many, many irreplaceable decorations that have been in our family for years.

Though devastated and understandably rattled, my parents were unharmed and the house was untouched. They will likely spend the next several months recovering from this disaster. But there was also a miracle and it can be attributed to a tree.

In the backyard, there was a large, dead 30-feet tall pine tree adjacent to the garage. Two weeks ago, hurricane-strength 149 km/h winds pummeled Calgary, knocking the tree down. Last week, my brother Pat and my dad cut up the tree to use as firewood.

If that tree had not been removed, its dead pine needles would have instantly ignited and the rest of my parent's yard, and then their house would have gone up in flames. It is very likely my dad would not have been able to get my mom out in time.

This time of year, I can't help but think of the meaning behind the Christmas tree. It is a symbol of hope, of life and of light beyond what our mortal vision can grasp.

And somehow in these charred remains of what could have been a tragedy, the symbol of the evergreen's everlasting life has never resonated more.

They Say It's His Birthday!

2011-12-09T12:18:00.006-07:00

Today is Jamie's birthday.

Since No. 41 is considerably less climactic than 40, our celebrations have been relatively low-key. He has a youth temple trip tonight so we celebrated yesterday at The Keg Steakhouse. I was thrilled when this top-notch Canadian chain opened in Denver a couple of years ago.

Because if there's anything my fellow cow-townies know, it's good beef.

(Insider tip: Sign up for their email list and you'll receive a coupon for a free steak dinner during your birthday month).

Jamie and I were originally going to do a date night to see a movie and then go to dinner but when that fell through, we opted to bring the kids along.

Mostly because it was cheaper to bring them to the restaurant than pay for a sitter.

Children = opportunity cost.

Happy birthday to my handsome, loving, hilarious and hard-working Pumpkin Man!

XOXOX

Enabling those who are apparently not able

2011-12-08T15:53:00.008-07:00

My sister-in-law Tammy sent this video. I'd seen it a few months prior but it bears reposting.

Message: drinking ain't pretty.

Another case in point is Hangover 2. I haven't seen this movie, nor do I have plans to see it. Jamie works closely with three cool sales executives who send him a large number of clients. As thanks, Jamie bought each of them $100 gift cards for Sullivan's Steakhouse last year.

The three men started out at Sullivan's and spent the remainder of the evening (and early morning) bar-hopping in LoDo (Lower Downtown). One ended up shattering his hand that later required surgery (and doesn't remember what happened) and has no idea how he got home. As for the other two, they somehow made it back but there are big gaps in their memory.

Any other person would have opted to buy them something safe like chocolates this year but not Jamie. Once again he bought them Sullivan's Steakhouse gift cards and presented them with this lovely Photoshopped card.

Let's just pray there won't be a Part III.

Why I can relate to Benjamin Button

2011-12-06T09:30:00.001-07:00

Now that I'm more than seven days out from the glories of my previous week, I'm starting to have some perspective on the situation.

One that does not have anything to do with toilet views.

The first several days of our Thanksgiving break were actually great. We met with our besties Tina, Nolan and Rowan at Family Sports Center, a 1500,00 square foot entertainment center in Centennial where we played 'til our heart's content.
A favorite were the knock-down, drag-out fights in the bouncy sports arena. Do you see Hadley in the green?

Now, look to her left on the ground where you'll see Bode in flight.

Perhaps this was a pre-cursor to busting his wrist.

But I'll tell you what: I was astonished he could get up on that pedestal and hold that knocking block, which was 10 times his size.
His buddy Nolan was much more gracious and let Bode serve up a few wins.

================

On Wednesday night, Bode showed early signs of the plague that later struck our family so on Thanksgiving day, he and Jamie opted out of our annual hike up Turkey Trot. They encouraged Haddie and I to have a girl's morning out so after doing some food prep, we raced outta there before they could change their mind.

And raced up that mountain--it's seriously not an easy hike.

Since it's such a challenging and long(ish) loop, we usually only do about an hour of it to an overlook of the city. But this girl wanted to keep going. Two hours later, we arrived back at the car, exhausted and happy. I realized we are fast approaching our Benjamin Button moment. If you're not familiar with the love story, Benjamin was born an old man and grows younger through the years. The women whom he loves is just the opposite and for a few, brief fleeting years they meet together in the middle as equals.

As Hadley blazed up that trail, I realized it's not very long before she will be surpassing me and I will be the decrepit old woman.

As we hiked, I saw what looked like a mother and daughter. The daughter was in her mid-20s while the mom was likely in her 50s.

I pointed them out. "Do you think that can be us when you grow up, Hadley?" (brimming with pride and sentimentality).

Hadley carefully observed them before reluctantly saying, "Yeah, I guess. If you can keep up with me."

Better enjoy it while I can.

The Mommy Dearest of Toy Purging

2011-12-05T07:00:00.001-07:00

With the holidays upon us, I realize questioning the excessive amount of toys our children have is not the most timely topic.

Or maybe there is no better time to talk about it.

When I first became a mom, I purchased toys with the same vengeance as a bull set loose in a China shop. If it looked fun, I bought it. I had every imaginable contraption available--swings, bouncers, word games, dress-up clothes, a play kitchen with all the fixins and so much more.

My children's interests have evolved over the past six years and I recently had a good, hard look around my cluttered house, particularly the toy chest in my family room--the source of most of our household messes.

I HAD HAD ENOUGH! CLICK TO READ ON AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM

The broken boy's family edict

2011-11-30T07:00:00.002-07:00

For the first few days after Bode busted his wrist, he was pretty miserable. And who can blame him? He was in a lot of pain and sleep was minimal so he required a lot of extra TLC.

But then the kid started working it.

By nature, he's very sweet and easy going but after a few days of getting doted on, we saw a new side to Bode.

Bode: "Hadley, get me some water."
Hadley: "I don't want to."
Me: "Hadley, can you please get your brother some water?"
Hadley: "FINE." (Empathy ain't her thing but she reluctantly brings him water.)
Bode: "You did it wrong."
Hadley: "EXCUSE ME?"
Bode: "You're supposed to put the ice in first, then the water. Not the other way around."

Hadley almost busted his other arm.

Bode's little sabbatical has also confirmed what I've suspected: he can be lazy. If given the opportunity, he would sit around all day playing the Wii and watching TV. But because he has me as a mother, he's constantly on the go.

But last week was the exception and I let him laze around as much as he wanted. Hadley got bored with the routine after a few hours (yep, she's my kid). But 11 television shows later (Hadley counted), Bode was still going strong.

He also came to me with an announcement. "When we go upstairs I'm going to tell you the new rules."

"What kind of rules?"

"For my arm."

I grabbed a notebook after sensing his urgency. So here they are:

Bode's Rules

1) I can't run to keep up with you.
2) I can't spent too much time watching TV or playing too much.
3) I can't go fast on a bike. I have to go slow.
4) I can't go too far in front of you on my bike.
5) I can't cross my arms. (This was reemphasized when Jamie asked him to say family prayers that evening. He agreed but said NO ARM CROSSING.)
6) No fighting this week.
7) I can't go in the shower. I can go in the bath but you have to put me in.

After listing off his regulations there was a long pause, after which I asked, "So what CAN you do, Bode?" Which prompted another list.

Things I Can Do

1) I can eat.
2) I can go down.
3) I can go up.
4) I can jump.
5) I can sit.
6) I can see.
7) I can walk.

"What about picking up your toys?" I asked. "Can you still do that?"

"Yes," he said finally. "But only softly."

It's gonna be a long few weeks.

And the party continues....

2011-11-29T09:04:00.005-07:00

Yesterday, Bode finally got patched up at the orthopedic surgeon's. Here's a tip for you: if you've ever going to break anything or get deathly ill, don't do it over a holiday weekend because no one is around to fix it.

I had to wait until Monday to call the surgeon to schedule an appointment. Now, this was after spending several sleepless nights with The Boy as he wailed and thrashed around. We just wanted to transition to the healing process so when the scheduler told me they couldn't fit him in for another week to get a cast, let's just say it didn't go over well.

The squeaky wheel wins. They "miraculously" found me an opening at a location up north.

When we arrived, I had Bode help me fill out his paperwork, which was about the funniest thing I could have done. When I queued how it happened, he replied:

"I stood on the crate and den I fell.

He was the youngest in the orthopedic office by about 60 years so everyone fawned over him, especially the staffers when they offered him a cookie and he brought me a heart-shaped one. The kid's a charmer, even when in pain.

I've never broken anything so it was pretty fascinating to watch the casting process. Bode was in good spirits. In fact, I can't get him to ham it up for the camera even in the best of times!

Stay tuned tomorrow for just how much the kid is working it.

You know it's a dark Black Friday when...

2011-11-25T17:04:00.005-07:00

....getting the stomach flu is not the lowlight of your day.

On Wednesday night, we had the missionaries over for dinner during which time Bode complained of stomach pain and spent the rest of the night writhing on the toilet with diarrhea. By the next morning (Thanksgiving), he starting to feel better and we thought it had blown over until I was lying in bed that evening and started to feel It. I spent pretty much most of the night in the bathroom, only to have Hadley succumb by throwing up all over her bed this morning.

Yes, it does get worse.

Today was the only day Jamie could hang the Christmas lights and so I assisted him in hauling our big, heavy boxes down from the attic in the garage. I moved the cars onto our driveway and when I came back into the house, Bode was crying hysterically. I raced up to his room to learn he tried to open the blinds to his window by standing on a crate but it had tipped and he had crunched his wrist. Badly.

I usually open up his room first thing in the morning. But if you will recall, his deadbeat mother was praying to the porcelain gods.

Though Jamie was showing signs of the plague, he was the best of the worst so got to take Bode to his first ER visit.

That's one milestone I'm kinda glad to have missed.

Several hours later, he was diagnosed with a buckle wrist fracture and we'll have to meet with an orthopedic surgeon next week to get a cast once the swelling has gone down.

And then the fun begins.

This Family's Week of Thanksgiving Gratitudes

2011-11-22T06:39:00.001-07:00

I've been forthcoming about my "Bah Humbug" Thanksgiving attitude and I'm continually peeved that day has become an excuse to stuff our faces and watch football instead of making it a meaningful time of self-reflection and gratitude.

This year, I decided to do something about it.

I designated last week my family's week to serve because I can't think of a better way to express gratitude than to give back. I started with just a few things on our schedule and I was astounded at the onslaught of opportunities we were given.

It was a humbling lesson that when we look beyond ourselves and stop making excuses like "I don't have enough money or time," that there are so many people in need. And we, in turn, didn't spend a dime, were blessed 100-fold, and feel closer together than ever. Last week I/we:

Visited a widow in our congregation.

Babysat four kids throughout the week, giving their mamas a much-needed break.

Volunteered with Hadley at the local food bank and helped prep for Thanksgiving baskets.

Gave a large box of Bode's old clothes to a little guy in need (I've been holding off on donating them to the thrift store because I felt someone needed them and I'm so glad I waited).

Organized a large blogging event at Sephora and asked all those in attendance to bring a contribution to a mama who recently lost her husband. I was inspired by the many women who reached out to help, many of whom did not have much to spare.

Found a way through Haddie's beautiful artwork to uplift and fellowship a man who has severe social anxieties. We have set a weekly goal to continue this service.

The culmination of our week was on Saturday when we volunteered to serve Thanksgiving dinner at the Irving Street Women's Residence, a residential and support program designed to serve chronically homeless women. Volunteers of America recently implemented a family program where kids of all ages are invited to serve and I jumped at the chance because most community service opportunities are for older kids.

I'm so glad I did because I gained a new appreciation for each member of my family.

I get a bit teary-eyed thinking about Jamie (slightly out of his comfort zone) reaching out and entertaining these women. And yes, pumpkin stories were in abundance.

I relished preparing our portion of the meal with Hadley and watching her pride whenever she received compliments on her hard work. She also made some of the most beautiful holiday cards we later gave to the patrons.

I laughed when Bode volunteered to be the caller in BINGO and blazed through those numbers like a seasoned pro. As the youngest volunteer, he carried himself with a maturity beyond his years.

At least to age 7. :)

Our crummy year was forgotten as we uplifted and entertained these women so down on their luck. Many were mothers and grandmothers. Others were single and will probably only know loneliness. But we had one thing in common: gratitude for being brought together that afternoon.

"I'll never forget you guys," one of the women promised as we said our good-byes.

And this is one Thanksgiving we'll never forget.

Why Hadley will be a supreme ruler

2011-11-17T07:00:00.000-07:00

Hadley has had the exact same personality since the day she was born: spirited, fun and oh so stubborn.

She is so headstrong and has a great ability to read people to get what she wants. This can be both a good and a bad thing. In fact, when she was just a few months old my pediatrician picked up on this and said it would be tough to parent her at times but it would serve her well in the boardroom later.

Is this supposed to be a comfort?

I love to snuggle and much to my chagrin, Hadley has never been a warm 'n fuzzy kinda child. My resolution? Ever since she was a baby, I've always held her down and forced Family Snuggles out of her. This has become a nightly ritual as she giggles her objections to us.

When she was 1 year old, she and I were bouncing around on my bed before bedtime when she stopped, plopped herself down on my pillow, put her arm out and announced, "SNUGGLE!" Shocked, I asked, "Did you say 'snuggle?'" She nodded and repeated herself again. I didn't hesitate a moment longer and dove right on in like an attention-starved puppy. With tail wagging.

Now, lest you think I had converted her to Family Snuggles, think again. She laid there for her obligatory 10-second snuggle as if she was counting down the moments. She then plopped back up and announced we were:

"Alllllll twue." (through)

In Haddie speak: "I gave you what you want so can you pul-ease stop attacking me, Woman?"

Six years later, the girl still knows how to work it.

Our home's crime scene

2011-11-16T08:40:00.000-07:00

We're the lazy people on our newspaper carrier's route who request that he delivers our paper to our porch.

It's our nice way of not flashing our neighbors in our skivvies every morning by walking out to the driveway.

Either our carrier has been slacking the last couple of weeks or we have a rookie because our newspaper has not be porched, but rather "sidewalked." Meaning, he only makes it as far as the sidewalk in front of our porch. This has only resulted in minor public exhibitions but didn't seem like a big enough issue to complain about.

Until the dude took out our pathway light.

Jamie: "Amber, please come outside."
Me: "OK, what?"
Jamie: "Did you or the children do this (pointing to the broken light)."
Me: "Nope."
Sherlock Jamie: "Just as I suspected."

He then started taking photographs.

Me: "What are you doing?"
Jamie: "Taking pictures to send to the newspaper's circulation department as evidence. You will notice that the angle which the light was broken off corresponds perfectly with where the newspaper landed behind the rose bush. We have our man."

C.S.I., watch out.

Or at least poor, lazy newspaper carrier.

How to do the mega resort, Dominican Republic-style!

2011-11-15T07:00:00.001-07:00

For months, Jamie has been so overworked and burned out he has complained, "I JUST WANT TO BE BORED!"

Boredom is not a common occurrence at our house and some quality R&R was our primary goal for our trip to the Dominican Republic.

My mother-in-law Linda generously watched the kids (A BIG THANK YOU TO HER!) as Jamie and I spent five days having fun under the sun at the 1,366 room mega resort Barcelo Bavaro Palace Deluxe, our compensation for battling it out over The Great Pumpkin on the Marriage Ref.

We flew in on Wednesday afternoon and after a couple of hours of lounging on the white-sand beach the very next morning, Jamie proclaimed, "I am bored."

Apparently we don't do boredom well.

But we were just swell at a lot of other things:

1) Sea kayaking, paddle boating, snorkeling, long beach walks, swimming and lots of eating at the resort's nine restaurants. All activities were inclusive so we didn't spend a dime.

2) I become bilingual. At least I like to think I did. The other patrons at Barcelo were primarily Europeans and South Americans so we were in the minority.

While most of the staff spoke at least some broken English, we occasionally had to crank out our espanol. We were frequently asked our room number--1323--and imagine my excitement when I realized THAT was something I could say in Spanish!

"Uno.....tres.........dos....tres!!!!"I carefully exclaimed.
"You sound like a 4-year-old," Jamie retorted.

I credit Dora the Explorer for my prowess.

3) I made some observations about our fellow patrons, who were so very different from our American neighbors.
a) I don't care how perfect your body is. Th0ngs are offensive and Speedos on men are even less flattering. I won't talk about the 60-year-old grandma who opted to go topless. #StillRecovering
b) No one there had tattoos. After going to Water World this summer, I realized just how pervasive American's views of body art really are. It was strangely refreshing to see people's bodies devoid of them.

4) We hung out a lot in our hotel room. All the rooms at the Palace Deluxe were recently remodeled and we scored a junior suite, which had a generous sitting room, comfy king-sized bed with a pillow top mattress and even a hot tub on the deck. In the afternoons, we had a Harry Potter marathon. After nap time, of course. #Priorities.

5) The weather was agreeable. I wasn't thrilled for this trip because Denver's weather is finally to my liking (read: brisk) and the thought of returning to my dreaded heat was depressing. Though the Domincan Republic was hot and humid, we had reprieves with rain and clouds. I only complained about the heat 12 times (a new record for me over a 5-day period).

5) I achieved my life's goal. On one rainy afternoon, we ambled over to the thatched-hut activity center overlooking the ocean and played games. We started with ping pong (Jamie killed me), then checkers (another win) but then victory was mine. Much to Jamie's chagrin, the staffer passed out BINGO cards.

Now, here's my history with BINGO. Since we started taking cruises almost seven years ago, I've been dying to play BINGO and Jamie has turned me down. "It's for a bunch of old people."

Now, he had no choice and begrudgingly played. And do you know what?

I WON!!!!!!!!!!!!

I could go pro.

In the end, we had a fabulous, restful vacation as we reconnected in a meaningful way. This trip was such a departure from our regular action-packed experiences (in fact, my first trip to the Dominican Republic you can read about here was an adventure tour where we mountain biked, hiked and white water rafted).

But our latest trip was just what the doctor ordered.

And I have The Great Pumpkin to thank for it.

Validation and the cutest little American ever

2011-11-11T09:00:00.000-07:00

It's no secret I was hesitant to enroll Bode in kindergarten because of the pressure I felt from my peers to hold him back.

One of the reasons was I felt he was small for his age but at a recent pediatric appointment, I learned he's actually in the 50th percentile (average) but he only seems smaller because he's lumped with boys who should be in first grade but were held back.

Go figure.

The New York Times article about how delaying school could be a detriment to your child was definitely a validation for our decision to enroll him but it wasn't until I volunteered in his class that I was pleased to see he's in the advanced group with a bunch of girls.

But then I got the biggest validation of all: his teacher called to say he's the best reader in the class and will join the first graders for their reading time so he can be more challenged.

My reaction was not pride but rather, relief. We had made the correct decision. I've fastidiously worked with him daily on his reading for over a year and our efforts have paid off. Lest you think I've gone all Tiger Mom on him, that is not the case.

I'm much too lazy for that.

Several of his classmates have made comments about his reading and we found out why at his parent-teacher conference. As an explanation for Bode going with the "bigger kids," the teacher told the class it wasn't fair for him to always give them the answers and that they need to work harder to catch up to him. Now, a lot of the kids want to go to the "big-kid class" and Bode has become the benchmark for reading literacy.

In any other class, this strategy could significantly backfire with mean kids bullying him but it's had the opposite effect and the kids think he's cool. His buddy Timmie stopped us and admiringly said, "You know how to read, Bode?"

If only brainiacs were always deemed popular.

Now, lest you think Bode is some kind of child prodigy he's not. But this whole experience has confirmed that as parent, we should regularly work with our kids and in the end, don't push them too much (but just enough) and always listen to our gut.

The gut that tells you to do the right thing. Not the one that tells you to eat that third chocolate cookie.

There is, however, one problem. His teacher says she sometimes has a difficult time understanding him.

Pledge of Allegiance, kindergarten-style

I'm cutting my losses on this one. In his defense, this Canuck can't pronounce half those words, either.

Down for the count (and a killer Windex giveaway)

2011-11-08T09:31:00.000-07:00

If the world seems unusually peaceful and quiet today, it is because I've lost my voice.

Because I somehow manage to get sick 99 percent of the time I travel.

Details of our Dominican Republic trip are forthcoming but this pic I took pretty much sums it up.
Also, I don't ever do giveaways on my personal blog but I just have to share a killer one we're doing at Mile High Mamas. I teamed up with Windex to celebrate their 75th anniversary and we're giving away oodles of Windex products, a video camera, $50 gift card and a photo album. Go here to enter!

My '50s tranformation to pin-up: revealed!

2011-11-07T10:28:00.004-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, I had the most killer mom's afternoon out with some of my fellow Mile High Mamas: we were transformed into '50s pin-up girls by Iman Woods!

I'm talking about our hilarious, empowering and FUN experience at Mile High Mamas so be sure to check out the behind-the-scenes action.

No lie: the stylist SEWED victory rolls into my hair.

And if you're in Denver: GO.

For details, go here.

What a difference a week makes

2011-11-02T07:00:00.000-06:00

Last week started out with mountain biking in glorious 80-degree temperatures at Community Ditch in Boulder.
Trust Boulder to have a ditch that looks this gorgeous.

The next day, it was upper-50s biking Standley Lake.And then came the big cooldown--a 50-degree drop since Monday.

Hiking a much different scene at Standley Lake.

To this place today while Denver has yet another snowstorm.

Goal: R&R.

See you next week!

Halloween defined chez nous

2011-11-01T07:00:00.002-06:00

It was a pumpkin carvin'

Jell-o competition eatin'

White Witch and dinosaur posin'

Fire station partying

Neighborhood parade strolling

And candy dreamin' kind of Halloween.
Hope you had a happy one!

Halloween partying, popularity, horror & my insanity

2011-10-31T07:00:00.001-06:00

Halloween Partying

I did double-duty at the school on Friday that started with the costume parade and class parties.
I'll have better pictures of the kiddos later but we opted on a dinosaur costume for Bode and Hadley went as the White Witch (Narnia is her favorite movie).

Jamie would like me to add he was not a part of the dinosaur choice because he said it was too "cutesy."

I say what is a KINDERGARTNER if not cute?!

My horror

As I was waiting for the kids' costume parade in the gym, I struck up a conversation to the gal next to me whom I swear I've never seen before. A few minutes into talking, she mentioned her twins--one boy and one girl.

And then it slowly started coming to me. You know the one: the dreadful feeling when you realize you somehow know that person but had forgotten them. I tried to cover my tracks by saying, "Wait a minute. You live in my neighborhood and our kids were at the same bus stop last year." Nice.

But it got worse. The woman knew everything about me. "I saw you on The Marriage Ref and you totally should have won etc. etc. etc."

My bad memory and Jamie's pumpkin are ruining my life.

Norm

And the most popular kid in second grade is...

Bode.

You know. My kindergartner.

Going to school with that kid is like going to school with Norm from Cheers. His besties in kindergarten adore him and after volunteering in Haddie's class, he and I eat in the lunchroom with her. This time, I kid you not, the second grade boys fought over who got to sit with him. Then, afterward, they begged me to let him stay and play Yoshi on the playground. As they were lining up, they insisted Bode give them all high-fives.

I guess sometimes, nice guys do finish first.

My Insanity

My friend posted a fabulous tutorial on how to make Halloween cake pops. If you've never heard of them, allow me to enlighten you: these little cakes on a stick are nothing short of moist and amazing (this, from a non-cake eater). And so I thought they'd be fun to make for the kids' Halloween party.

There was nothing fun about making them.

Really, it was my fault. Between the kids' two classes, there were 50 pops. And then my ward's trunk-or-treat was that night and I'd signed up to bring a treat. Add in the women I visit teach and I was well over a hundred.

And so I made three different cakes: red velvet, vanilla and spice and spent the entire day slaving in the kitchen. I'm not exaggerating: THESE LITTLE GHOSTS TOOK ME SEVEN HOURS TO MAKE.
The positive: They were met with many rave reviews.
The negative: Some kids took them but didn't bother eating them. I wanted to grab their little sugar-stuffed cheeks and scream,"DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THOSE TOOK ME TO MAKE?"

Perhaps becoming emotionally invested in a treat is dangerous on many levels.

After spending seven hours on my still-recovering knee, I could barely walk. But the caveat came when I was carrying the laundry down the stairs later that day. Workers had been there cleaning our carpet and the floors were still damp. I slipped. I slammed. I slid. I threw out my back and injured my arm.

I'm going as myself for Halloween this year.

Because that is scary enough.

Food Bank of the Rockies' Celebrity Council (who me?)

2011-10-27T11:00:00.001-06:00

I think everyone should have a "cause" close to their heart and combating child hunger is mine. I was first really exposed to it during my mission in Switzerland and France where I was privileged to provide service in the local food banks. As I worked with those wonderful people--so humble and grateful--something inside me was ignited.

Years later, I've been fortunate to work with the Food Bank of the Rockies on some local campaigns and have felt that same spark. So when I was asked to be a part of their new Celebrity Council (that includes famous professional athletes, media personalities and actors), I was honored.

And then I laughed. A lot.

I certainly don't consider myself a celebrity but feel privileged to contribute to an organization that services 1,100 hunger-relief programs throughout Northern Colorado and Wyoming.

Last week, I attended a soiree to kick-off the council and was blown away to see my smiling face on the celebrity wall (top right-hand corner).

Note to self: Get a real head shot.

Of course, this isn't my first brush with celebrity.

There was the time at the 2010 Vancouver Games at the USA House when I insulted a living legend.

Also, when I lived in Salt Lake City, I was the Travel Editor for Sports Guide Magazine for a number of years. I must have had a pretty good following because every year, Sports Guide published a "Best Of" list based on reader's nominations and votes.

I won the "Best All-around Female" award, along with Picabo Street (who was a really big deal at the time after winning a gold medal in super G at the 1998 Winter Olympics.)

When Jamie and I were dating, he Googled my name and found that article.

I'm sure it was the clincher for him. :-)

I'd love your support! For every Facebook "like" the Food Bank of the Rockies receives through October, Vitamin Cottage is donating $1. And here's the amazing thing: A $1 donation provides 4 meals for kids in need so please take a moment to click!

The Beauty of a Beautiful Heartbreak

2011-10-26T11:22:00.005-06:00

I mentioned my admiration for musician Hilary Weeks but when I saw the video for her newest release, Beautiful Heartbreak, I just had to share.

She gave the back-story of writing it at Time Out for Women. There were four babies in her congregation at church who were born to different families. All four had severe medical challenges but friends and neighbors banded together in amazing ways to support these families as they tried to nurse their babies back to health.

All four of them died within the year.

Hilary mourned with them but was so inspired to see how they dealt with the loss and wrote this song. While it's not inherently religious, I love it because it is human. No one goes through life without heartbreak of some kind--whether it's depression or unemployment, loneliness, illness or death.

Be sure to watch the video until the end...that's when my big, ugly cry broke out.

No worries. I'm not featured in the video blubbering away.

Hilary Weeks Video

This song is such a great reminder to take the good with the bad and that life is sometimes a beautiful heartbreak.

But we can still make it beautiful.

Buy her new CD "Every Step" on iTunes here. And no, this is not a sponsored post. I just think she's pretty darn great.

Talkin' about my girl

2011-10-25T07:00:00.002-06:00

Part of trying to connect on a deeper level is taking a step back and looking at who needs TLC.

Hadley is one of them.

I've always had a deep connection with Bode but have to work harder with Hadley. Though we're both independent, adventurous spitfires, we speak a very different love language. Bode and I are snugglers. Hadley is not physical but I'm slowly learning her "love language" is spending quality time together.

We haven't had any meaningful one-on-one time since school started.

So, on Saturday morning, I announced Hadley and I were having a girl afternoon. The boys would go to Bode's soccer game (another three goals--yay!) and the girls would hike Lookout Mountain in Golden.

I've probably hiked Lookout Mountain a hundred times, half of them were carrying my babies and the other half solo. I thought I knew the nuances of every bend in the trail.

Until I hiked it with my 7-year-old daughter.

I love hiking for a number of reasons that include beauty and fresh air but I'm in it for the workout when I'm alone. While Hadley kept a fast clip, she reminded me of what it means to stop and smell the roses.

That means applauding the squirrels as they launch across their forested trapeze and scaling every random rock wall she could find.
Finding perfect perches to howl at the ~~moon~~ abyss.
And stopping to marvel at the view at the summit.My sad confession: I've always enjoyed the view but have never been absolutely blown away by its beauty until I saw it through my little girl's eyes.

There is a very kid-friendly nature center at the top and I suggested we eat our snacks over there to get out of the wind. She looked over at the crowded parking lot, wrinkled her nose and pointed to a bluff overlooking the mountains.

"There's too many cars and people over there. I want to look at the beautiful view and then go to the nature center," she said.

Mini-Me.

Thinking back upon it now, I can't even remember what we talked about but we babbled non-stop. It's amazing how a whole lot of nothings amount to something wonderful.

We stopped at Cold Stone ice cream and as we drove home, Hadley pensively said: "That was an awesome girl day, Mommy. We need to do that more often."

I couldn't agree more.

Bode's competition for the "Sweetest Kid on the Block"

2011-10-24T07:00:00.001-06:00

Bode has a lot of great qualities but what I value most in him is he is just a good, sweet, kind-hearted soul. In fact, when I picked him up from a recent playdate, my neighbor observed, "Bode is the nicest kid on the block."

He (obviously) doesn't get it from me.

Part of being a nice kid is he has rarely has meltdowns and he gets along with everyone. I can put him in any situation, even with the socially-backward or aggressive types, and he will befriend them while being a force for good.

We have four hours until Hadley gets home so we try to go on an adventure every day. On Friday, we biked around Lake Arbor.
We stopped at the local playground and Bode played with a cute boy a couple of years younger than him. At one point, I overheard their conversation.

Bode: "I am Bode. What's your name?"
Kid: "My name is Brandon. But they call me 'Sweetie Pie.'"

When revenge is (too) sweet

2011-10-21T08:40:00.000-06:00

Remember when I blogged about my friend Lisa's sons wreaking havoc on my sweet Bode?

Wednesday, I had payback when I dragged her up my favorite secret hike.
Though with views like that of snow-covered 14,264-ft Mt. Evans it's an iffy attempt at payback.

I'll keep working on it.

The Clicker and the Importance of Getting Unplugged

2011-10-20T07:00:00.003-06:00

Sometimes you just need to get unplugged.

This is opposed to unhinged, which is what I have felt the last several weeks.

I hit my limit after a compendium of stress, work and more stress a couple of weeks ago. I woke up feeling...not depressed...but burned out and in dire need of a reboot after my family's onslaught of medical and financial trials this year.

I attended Time Out For Women a couple of weekends ago and it was a much-needed spiritual boost. One of my favorite speakers (and inspiring musical artist) Hilary Weeks spoke about a statistic she had heard: that the average person has 300 negative thoughts a day. Thinking this was a staggering number, she decided to put it to the test. She bought herself a clicker and every time she had a negative thought, she counted it.

The final number wasn't important but what resonated with me was how she felt after almost a week of doing it. For no reason at all, she woke up feeling depressed and absolutely hopeless about her life.

Recognizing the source, she turned the experiment around and documented every positive thought she had. The number of clicks skyrocketed as it became a practice in gratitude--from her family to God's creations to the many little miracles that surrounded her. (Read her blog posts about it here).

Lesson learned: When you focus on the negatives, all your energy and psyche will give way to that energy. Conversely, thinking positive thoughts makes you happy.

I've never been a negative person but when you're drowning in negative influences and aren't filling it with as much positivity as possible, something's gotta give and that's exactly how I felt. So last week, I refused to let the uncertainty and stress take hold of me. I stepped away from my computer and filled my life with positive energy. I recommitted myself spiritually and spent every spare second in the outdoors marveling at the fall colors.

We picked crab apples and made applesauce.

We climbed trees.
I hiked.

And hiked some more.
And biked almost daily.
There is something so special about fall--life in all its summer pastels becomes golden. And somehow through imersing myself in it, each day I grew stronger, more at peace and connected. While our future may be uncertain, for these past weeks we've been living in the brevity of the moment and it has been magic.

One of my favorite passages of scripture in Mosiah 24: 13-15 has resonated with me. Alma and his people are doing what's right and are living their lives when they are faced with a huge trial: wicked Amulon is sent to rule over them and places horrible burdens on their back. They even try to pray and risk the treat of being put to death.

Human instinct is to pray all the bad things away. I know I have and continue to do so. But the answer they received is so much more inspired.

13 And it came to pass that the voice of the Lord came to them in their afflictions, saying: Lift up your heads and be of good comfort, for I know of the covenant which ye have made unto me; and I will covenant with my people and deliver them out of bondage.

14 And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage; and this will I do that ye may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions.

15 And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.

Another lesson learned: Don't pray for a lighter burden, pray for a stronger back.

Our situation has not changed but my capacity to handle it has. And for that, I am grateful.

On character building

2011-10-18T07:00:00.000-06:00

I'm still alive but am taking a much-needed blogging break. In the interim, a glimpse at a conversation we had en route to the temple last weekend.

Me: I noticed last week just how many wrinkles I'm getting these days.

Jamie: That's OK. It adds character.

{Long pause}

Jamie: And that's just what you need--more character.

The Day Jerry Rice Jr. Got Taken Down

2011-10-10T09:35:00.000-06:00

I have another busy week and am just not feeling motivated to write so blog postings might be sparse this week. However, I have several posts in my "drafts" folder I never published so here's one of them about Bode's near-death experience late last summer.....

We're going on our seventh year of being in our dinner group with friends from church. We've experienced everything from the humiliation of Halloween to when Groucho and Marilyn did murder. Last month, the festivities sunk to a new level.

Usually, our dinners just involve couples but a couple of times a year, we bring the kids together for a big ol' party--no small undertaking because the six couples have 24 kids between them.

And yes, we are the underachievers in the group.

The first of those kids was college-bound so we planned a final picnic at a park near our house. It was a fun evening of good friends and fun as the kids played on the nearby playground until after dark. After dinner, we opted for a friendly game of kickball in the neighboring field.

Only it wasn't quite so friendly.

You see, some of these people are competitors and make me look like Pollyanna comparatively. Bode was the youngest out of all the kids by two years and certainly the most overzealous, thrilled to catch the ball and run with it.

I didn't have the heart to tell him he wasn't Jerry Rice.

It all started going downhill when Hadley's friend Alex went up to "bat." You see, headstrong Alex and I have history. She talks smack, I dish it back. I once sang, "Girl, you're amazing" to her at the top of my lungs in the grocery store because it's her goal to be on America's Got Talent and I was just showing her what it takes.

OK, so maybe I just wanted to embarrass her.

Anyway, back to kickball. Alex looked at me with her little beady eyes and I knew she was mine. The ball was rolled, she kicked it and it soared straight toward me. I leaped, caught it and she was out. In one gratifying moment, it was me vs. Alex and for once, I won.

And then her family cried foul. "She's just a little girl!!!!" and revenge was sworn.

Problem is it wasn't against me but against Jerry Rice Jr. The next time sweet Bode was up to bat, he kicked the ball. As he started to race to first base, Alex's brothers--allegedly upstanding young men, Eagle Scouts and BYU-bound--nailed sweet Bode with the ball. H-A-R-D.

These photographs are not of The Incident, which means there was more than one because photos don't lie. Brother #1:Brother #2:
As the Evil Ones rejoiced after Bode's forcible take-out, their Head Evil One (their father, Phil), said, "Thank your Mommy for that, Bode."

He came over to me and said in the most innocent voice, "Thank you for dat, Mommy!!"

Unfortunately for them, unforgiving Mommy is already plotting their take-down.

:-)

Marriage: The "Worse" Part of the "Better"

2011-10-07T15:53:00.005-06:00

Me: "You seem less stressed today. Are you finally getting caught back up on work after being in the hospital last week?"

Jamie: "Doing much better. I only have two people yelling at me right now."

Me: (At the top of my lungs): "HONEYYYYYYYYYY!"

Jamie: "Better make that three."

The pumpkin weigh-off's shocking results!

2011-10-06T07:00:00.001-06:00

It was a small miracle Jamie was able to take his pumpkin Ricky (named in honor of Ricky Gervais) to the Jared's Nursery weigh-off after he discovered a crack a few weeks prior. For weeks, he caulked it and though he was not able to officially enter his pumpkin, Ricky made it to the weigh-off.

And he was the prettiest pumpkin there.

Yes, I just referred to an inanimate object as a "he."

The kids and I always have a blast getting spooked in the Ghoul Galleria, jumping in the bouncy castle, playing in the maze, doing face-painting, balloon animals and marveling at the over-sized gourds.

Yep, that's a pear behind Bode.

This year, the kids' pumpkin was a lot smaller so we had low expectations. In fact, Jamie wasn't the only grower who had a rough year--most of them lost at least one of their pumpkins. Denver had a really wet spring and a super hot August, resulting in a lot of pumpkins rotting out. There were no records and a lot of grown men inwardly crying.

It wasn't pretty.

The kids won the children's competition with their 146.5-pound pumpkin. Their father couldn't have been more proud. Their mother, on the other hand, was mortified when another child took their pumpkin to the scale and Bode joked, "That's too little!"

Once again, they won the blue ribbon and...(wait for it)....a bag of fertilizer.

I informed Jamie I'm overseeing the prizes for the children's competition next year.

As for Jamie? He was shocked and delighted with his result: his heaviest pumpkin ever!
The scale says 926 pounds but it was actually 924.5 pounds. Cheater had his hand on the pumpkin.

That's sure a heavy hand.

There was only one pumpkin that was larger at the weigh-off and that grower was from Wyoming. Jamie had the biggest pumpkin in Colorado that day and Ricky would have assuredly been over 1,000 pounds if it hadn't cracked. Jamie's goal is to break 1,000 pounds so that means we're in it for at least another year.

Who am I kidding? He's in it for life.

At Long Last: The 3rd Annual Pumpkin Par-tay!

2011-10-05T07:00:00.001-06:00

Three years ago, we instituted our First Annual Pumpkin Par-tay. Admittedly, it was a ruse to get people to help lift the pumpkin but it has grown from there.

Both the size of the pumpkin and the parties.

Since Jamie loves big pumpkins and I love to eat all-things-pumpkin, we decided to make it a pumpkin potluck and ask our guests to bring some pumpkin-inspired dishes.

Now, there are varying degrees of commitment to the cause. Some planned their dishes out several weeks in advance and it showed with delicious offerings such as pumpkin caramels, pumpkin bundt cake, pepita (pumpkin seed) salsa, mini-pumpkin pies, pumpkin chili, pumpkin empanadas (my offering) and more.

Others call the day of the party complaining they can't find canned pumpkin anywhere and bring brownies. And then a few call a half-hour before and say, "Hey, I misplaced my invite. Is that pumpkin party of yours today?"

Regardless, it always comes together in a delicious and fun way.

Bode took on the important role of tour guide and directed people to our backyard.

Of course, The Pumpkin Man was our local celebrity.
Last year, my bestie Tina busted out with a killer pumpkin hat Jamie made famous on The Marriage Ref.

This year, she gifted him some ultra-cool pumpkin glasses.
To think she almost didn't make it because she somehow didn't receive an invite (apologies to any of my other regulars who befell the same fate).

Of course, everyone comes to pose with The Great Pumpkin.

And marvel.
But the real attraction was the official vine-cutting. Many people have asked me how we transport the pumpkin to the weigh-off. We use a forklift but you first need to put lifting straps around it (not an easy process).
It's also a good excuse to get a nice butt shot of your husband.

Then, attach the lifting straps to the chain on the forklift.
Then you watch a grown-man pray that the bottom of the pumpkin hasn't rotted out completely (if you will recall, it cracked a few weeks ago). All was well.

Except for the fact Jamie's body turned into a pumpkin. Nice legs, dude.

For the second year in a row, our neighbor Andy was the forklift driver.

When it was over, he was heavily perspiring. "Dude, that was the most stressful thing, ever!"

Then they loaded it onto a trailer. And no, I did not approve of Jamie graffiting the back window of my vehicle with that saying.

See that kid in the orange shirt? That's our neighbor Luke who kept shouting out, "PUMPKIN PINATA" and swinging his baseball bat at the air.

I think he was kidding but his murder would have been no joke.

After that, the kids cut their pumpkin off the vine.

And (let's count 'em): SIX guys carried the pumpkin to the front porch.

I mention the number of men because the next morning, Jamie and I (TWO mere mortals) carried it out to the car. By ourselves. With my sore knee.

One of the many sacrifices of a pumpkin widow.

Tune in tomorrow for details of the weigh-off!

Copper Mountain and My Ride of Death

2011-10-04T07:00:00.002-06:00

Missed yesterday's post? Be sure to read Part I.

Admittedly, my reason for wanting to go to Copper Mountain in the off-season is because I have been dying to bike the portion of the Ten Mile Recreational Pathway that runs from Copper Mountain down to Frisco (about 13 miles round-trip.)

This extensive network of trails in Summit County is among my favorite in Colorado. A few years back, I biked with the kids from Frisco along the reservoir to Lake Dillon (one of my favorite days ever). Another time, I biked from Dillon up to Keystone and most recently, we did Frisco to Breckenridge.

All that remains are for me to do Copper Mountain to Frisco and then Copper Mountain up Vail Pass, the latter of which is a 1,000-foot climb.

It's no wonder I saved the best (or rather, worst) for last.

But on Saturday, I was determined to bike to Frisco and so I woke up at 6 a.m. It was still pitch-black outside.

I dozed until 6:30 a.m. It was barely starting to light up.

I fell back asleep hard, awaking at 7 a.m. I tried to talk myself out of going and stay snuggled up to Jamie but I had come on this trip for the express purpose of biking the trail. All other portions have been glorious and why should this one be any different?

Turns out, it was. Different, that is. As in bad-different.

It wasn't the actual trail that was bad. In fact, a beautiful smattering of lemon-lime trees lined the path and the moderate decline to Frisco should have been a breeze.

But it was awful for two reasons: the weather and my bike.

Daytime temperatures were 60 degrees but nighttime hovered around freezing and that's what it was when I started out. I had only worn a light fleece and Capri biking shorts and cannot ever remember being so cold on a bike path.

But I wouldn't, I couldn't turn back. For me, the only thing worse than quitting is having unfinished business and so I pressed onward, slowly.

The sluggish pace was due to a problem I am admitting publicly for the first time: I have an aversion to pumping tires. I've always felt this way and if you factor in my bike's presta valve (that requires an adapter to pump), I avoid it at all costs.

That morning when I started out, my tires weren't firm but still rideable. By the end, they were nearly flat.

Have you ever biked 13 miles in freezing temperatures with near-flat tires? It wasn't pretty.I couldn't even fake a smile here.

But I did it and now the only portion that remains is climbing from Copper Mountain to the top of Vail Pass.

Lesson learned: Wear winter clothes...and fully pumped tires.

Copper Mountain's Solace

2011-10-03T07:00:00.003-06:00

After our doozy-of-a-week in the hospital, our overnight trip to Copper Mountain on Friday could not have come at a more perfect time. I asked Jamie if he wanted to cancel but we have been trying to schedule this getaway for months (our lodging was a trade agreement with one of his clients).

And so we went with the understanding Jamie would need to lie low.

If there's a perfect place to do that, it's Colorado's mountains in the fall and we nailed the colors perfectly.

Located 75 miles west of Denver right off I-70, Copper Mountain is the last of the major ski resorts I had yet to visit. Unlike many other resorts in Colorado, there is a ski village built around the area but no real town. This means the shoulder seasons (fall and spring) are like a ghost town. The solace was glorious.

On Friday night while Jamie rested at the condo, Hadley, Bode and I hot tubbed and then explored the area, starting with Copper Mountain Golf.

(Shhhhh, don't tell the golfers we were on contraband bikes).

We also checked out The Woodward at Copper, a year-round snowboard and ski training camp (the first of its kind) with 19,400 feet of terrain park and pipe progression.
Basically, it's teen/tween heaven and the staffer was gracious to show us around and even let the kids jump off the ramp into one of the many foam pits.

I declined for fear I'd be unable to climb out.

And yes, I speak from old-woman experience.

Tune in tomorrow (read the story here) for the sordid details of my ride of death. OK, maybe I didn't exactly die but find out why I kind of wanted to. And yes, I still know I'm in need of posting pumpkin updates. It's on my (very long) list.

The reality behind Colorado mountain scenery

2011-10-02T07:00:00.001-06:00

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
~Albert Camus

That's as poetic as you're going to get from me.

At the very moment I took this picture at a pit stop en route to Copper Mountain, Bode was peeing on a nearby bush and Hadley was puking on another.

Just keeping it real, people.

The good and bad news of our hospital stint (pun intended)

2011-09-29T06:00:00.001-06:00

If I ever write a book, the title will be, "You can't make this stuff up."

Jamie was once again in the hospital for chest pain this week. On Tuesday night, he had meetings at the church and I asked him to drop off something.

"I probably can't."
"Why not?"
"I think I need to go to the ER," he casually informed me.

He then revealed he's been having chest pain since FRIDAY but never said anything because he knew I'd freak and make him go to the hospital and he would have missed his pumpkin party and weigh-off.

Death vs. a pumpkin party? Priorities.

And so they admitted him Tuesday night. We knew they wouldn't be able to do anything until the next morning and that he'd need an angiogram. The nurse told him it was OK to eat breakfast so imagine how pleased he was to have the cardiologist come in a few minutes later to inform him he couldn't eat before the procedure, that he now had to wait six hours, and that they were so backed up they probably wouldn't be able to get him in until the next day.

This news did not go over well with me, in large part due to the already-overwhelming medical bills we're paying off. There was NO WAY I was paying for an extra day in the hospital due to THEIR screw-up.

I was still at home at that point so I made some calls. They were not pleasant but apparently my loving threats hit home because 20 minutes later, Jamie called me.

"You contacted the hospital, didn't you?!"
"How did you know?"
"They just informed me they found an opening for 3 p.m. today."

Sometimes it pays off to be me.

The findings? When Jamie had surgery back in February, there were three arteries that were almost completely blocked as a result of his chemo radiation treatments he had in his late-20s. For two of the main arteries, they were able to put stints. The third artery is a smaller branch off the main and due to its position and size, they were unable to do anything with it. The only possible solution to open it up is bypass surgery and at this point, they don't want to go there.

Believe me, neither do I.

And so they think it's that darned third artery that is causing the chest pain. Because it's not a main artery, they're not overly concerned about it but if the pain continues they'll reevaluate. They hope by switching up his meds, they can help him manage the pain.

So, I guess it's a bit of good news (the stints in the main arteries are fine) and bad news (there's nothing we can do about the blocked third artery). We hope Jamie will return home today.

I've got to say once again how grateful I am for our awesome friends and family and their outpouring of support. Whether it's watching the kids, bringing us dinners or just offering to help in anyway they can, I am so humbled by everyone's support. And I'm hoping that someday soon we can return the favor.

Read: Cease from being charity cases.

The kids and I spent most of Wednesday afternoon and evening in the hospital, with a quick trip to the nearby pumpkin farm while Jamie was doped up in recovery. I've become disarmingly comfortable in a hospital setting this year but what I was not prepared for: Jamie's celebrity status.

As two nurses were wheeling Jamie into surgery, he managed to worked it into the conversation that he grows giant pumpkins. Both of the women scrutinized him, turned to me, recognized The Hair and exclaimed, "You were on The Marriage Ref!" Jamie then delighted his captive audience.

It didn't stop there. Following his surgery, his new nurse not only remembered him from six months ago (horrors to be considered a "regular" in the cardiac unit) but also from TV.

It was my worst nightmare on many levels.:)

But here's for hoping we'll be able to once again pick up where we left off and start running again today.

The resurrection of the kindergarten debate

2011-09-27T07:20:00.000-06:00

I know, I know. I am overdue on posting about our pumpkin festivities last weekend. And that will happen just as soon as I wade through my onslaught of deadlines, laundry, meetings and hikes. Yes, people. I am going on my very first hike today following my knee surgery.

It should set me back about a week.

However, I couldn't delay on posting about an article I read regarding the scientific findings of kindergarten. Yes, kindergarten is a science. Or rather, the delay of starting it can be. If you will recall, last year I had some angst regarding whether I should start Bode on time or delay him like so many parents in Colorado are prone to do. I obviously went with my gut and enrolled him on time and I couldn't be happier that I did.

Especially after these findings that are sure to ruffle a few feathers. So, come weigh-in and let me know what you think!

Let the (Pumpkin) Games Begin!

2011-09-23T06:35:00.000-06:00

This is THE weekend Chez Johnson. Tonight is the ceremonial vine-cutting party where we will devour all things pumpkin.

Jamie insisted on putting the "As Seen on TV" logo on the invitation.

Because he's prideful like that.

And Saturday is The Great Pumpkin weigh-off at Jared's Nursery in Littleton! In addition to ~~pumpkin growers who are out of their gourds~~ over-sized gourds, there will be a kid’s costume parade, dog costume contest, pumpkin drop, chili cook-off, free straw maze, bouncy castle, petting zoo, Galleria of Ghouls and much more. Details at JaredsGarden.com.

Lest you're confused as to why and how we're still participating in the weigh-off after the pumpkin's demise, Jamie has been fastidiously calking the crack. Though he cannot officially enter "Ricky" in the weigh-off, his fingers are crossed it will hold together long enough to get an official weight.

Here's the latest shot of the pumpkin if you want to wager your own guess. Jamie had our neighbors pose because our kids are getting too big and he wants to make the pumpkin appear larger than it actually is.

Because he's prideful like that.

Wish him luck!

One of the many reasons I love my dad

2011-09-21T07:00:00.001-06:00

It finally feels like Fall in Colorado and after a long, hot summer this is the time of year I enjoy the most. Well, with the exception of winter's glorious snow. And who doesn't love spring blossoms?

OK, mostly I just hate summer's heat.

As a part of my physical therapy, I've been trying to bike daily. Though I don't yet feel I'm ready to hike, my knee is getting stronger every day. Yesterday, I biked for over an hour and was delighted, upon summiting a large hill on the Ralston Creek Trail, to have a vantage point of two gorgeous lakes.

But even better was I actually passed a young dude on the trail, evidence I'm finally gaining some speed. "This is the stretch that always gets me," he mumbled as an excuse. "Yeah, me too!" I breathed as I raced by.

Or not.

Dear ol' dad posted the following as his Facebook status last weekend:

Passed these two teenagers pushing their mountain bikes up the Southland Drive hill.

'70-year-old guy passing on your left,' said I.

'Heh, heh,' said they in obvious humiliation.

Just in case you're wondering where I get "it" from.

The year that kicked our butts

2011-09-20T07:00:00.004-06:00

I'll admit it: I came into 2011 with a sense of pending doom. I'm not a negative gal so I'd like to think it was a premonition that this year would basically suck. I mean, it wasn't all bad. We went on a Disney Cruise, took loads of fun ski trips and spent July in Canada.

See? That's what an optimist does--tries to put on a positive spin.

But there's no "spinning" the onslaught of medical bills we have from Jamie's heart surgery, his chronic rheumatism problems, my chest pains and knee surgery. Not to mention the BBQ and refrigerator we had to replace, the car problems and the second set of phones that are on the fritz. Oh, and last week? The Internet was down for two days and Jamie's computer was on the brink of death.

He is a web developer who works from home. One might say his computer is kind of important.

So, our big expense last week was a new computer.

Good-bye, Christmas presents. It was nice (not) knowing you.

Even with this humdinger of a year, I still recognize we've been blessed. We've been fortunate that Jamie's business is going well (hence the 12-hour days) and that my parents made a generous charitable donation to help offset the cost of my knee surgery.

Because make no mistake: we are charity cases these days.

Last week, we attended the preview of the Denver Museum of Nature and Science's new T.Rex Encounter exhibit. The kids had a blast but it wasn't until we posed for a picture with a super-imposed dinosaur on a blue screen that I got the symbolism:

T.Rex = 2011.

Better luck in 2012.

A Soccer Superstar is Born

2011-09-18T18:30:00.005-06:00

Bode is a great little soccer player and usually scores 1-2 goals per game but he's no superstar.

At least until Saturday.

While I was at a blogging conference, Jamie, Hadley, Uncle Chris and Aunt Lisa cheered him on....
....to score lots of goals. Aunt Lisa shot this 17-second video of Goal # 6:

Bode Soccer video

Now, I'm a competitor but after saaaaaay goals 4 and 5, I might have made the suggestion that he should ease up.

Jamie, on the other hand, does not have that gene.

Bode went on to score NINE GOALS.

To help motivate the kids, we issued the rule they'd get a candy bar for each goal they scored.

Bode's sugar high should last until Halloween.

Spontanaeity at its Worst

2011-09-13T09:55:00.002-06:00

Hadley and I are the spontaneous ones in our little family.

This is just a nice way of saying we give our boys ulcers.

But yesterday, Hadley was a bit too spontaneous for even me. At 7:30 a.m., she announced, "Let's bike to school today!"

This is no small feat. When we had our assessment testing before school started, we tested the waters by biking there and between going up hills, crossing busy streets and traversing the soccer fields, it took us about 25 minutes.

I had been wanting to bike to school before chilly temperatures kicked in and with rain in the forecast later in the week, I agreed, "Let's do it!"

Sleepy Bode looked at us like we were both lunatics and he was correct. School starts at 8:15 a.m. so we had just 15 minutes to finish getting ready. But we somehow did it and were on our way.

Until we biked up to the top of our hill and I realized we'd forgotten their backpacks.

"Wait here," I gasped as I raced back to the house. When we reconnected, I knew we wouldn't have even one moment to spare. Bless their hearts, they pushed onward and had a lovely ride on that beautiful September morning.

Well, with the exception we were in a bit of a frenzy when we arrived mere moments before the bell rang (because stressed and frazzled is an ideal way for any kid to start school).

Now, the following is a glimpse at how I don't think things through. I had originally intended to go for a bike ride in our local open space that morning and did just that. I had a lovely time and even ran into my friend Lisa.

That would have been dandy if it ended there but then it was time to bike back to school to retrieve Bode from half-day kindergarten an hour later. We stopped at the nearby playground and skate park for a picnic before climbing the big hill to our house. Then a few hours later, I had to repeat the same process by biking back to school to pick-up Hadley and climbing our big hill for the third time that day.

Remember my knee surgery I had two weeks ago today?

Maybe by Spring I'll be ready to be spontaneous again.

The game's winners and losers

2011-09-12T07:00:00.000-06:00

Last weekend's winners

1) Partying it up at the Arvada Harvest Festival's fun booths and midway.

We were really just in it for the over-sized turkey legs.

2) Bode's first soccer game of the fall season. The little dude is a master dribbler and scored two goals.

He actually got three but the sore losers on the other team said it didn't count because they weren't ready yet. Not ready for Bode to score on them again.

3) Jamie golfing with the boys at Keys on the Green in glorious Evergreen, Colorado. One of the bonuses of playing in the mountains is it's not uncommon to run into entire herds of elk.

He's a winner because he's one of those dudes who poses for a picture an arm's throw away and didn't get gouged.

4) While Dad was risking life, limb and backside on the golf course, the kids and I were winners because we bought their Halloween costumes from the local thrift store and went to celebrate the money we saved at Yogurtland.
Oatmeal cookie frozen yogurt? We're now converts.

5) Playing on Squiggles, a 343-foot "Seasaurus" at the Arvada Center Playground. There were two winners here.

a) The kids delighted in scaling the entirety of Squiggles' concrete and steel backside and getting sprayed by water misters every hour. Other cool features: The “Talking Trash Cans” that talk back when you throw away garbage, the huge sandbox and three additional concrete sculptures.

b) I was a winner because I bought a book at the thrift store and let the kids play to their heart's content while I kicked back in the shade and read the entire book.

Last weekend's' loser

Jamie, who unceremoniously dumped my cherished Canadian flag chair into the garbage at Bode's soccer game.

Trashing the hallowed Maple Leaf? He may have avoided The Gouging of the Elk but trust me, he'd better watch his backside because the wife's wrath is that much worse.

In remembrance

2011-09-11T09:30:00.000-06:00

Jamie and I have been watching September 11th features on television all week. It has been a sobering reminder of all that happened to change our world. It's amazing how someone like me who didn't know anyone who died and who isn't even American could still feel personally impacted.

I was working as an event manager at Deseret Book's corporate offices in Salt Lake City on September 11, 2001. I'd heard about the first attack before going to work and by the time I arrived, people were glued to the televisions in the ZCMI Center's Food Court. I still remember how surreal it felt to watch it unfold, like you had front-row seats in a horror movie that didn't end when the lights came back on.

When I was in New York City last summer, I went to Ground Zero. There wasn't much to see and I guess that's the point. The site was under reconstruction but one photo I snapped of the many efforts to rebuild still resonates today.

Maybe it's the optimist in me but I sincerely do not believe the world is inherently bad. Watching the many inspiring stories to come out of the dust testify to that. Last week, the Washington Post interviewed some of the world’s most influential religious leaders about faith in a post-attack world.

“It seems that much of the post-9/11 renewal of faith has waned in the years that have followed,” writes Thomas Monson, president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. “It should not require tragedy for us to remember God.”

Rabbi David Wolpe writes, “Faith can be turned to evil when people believe that God’s word is made as small as a resentful heart. Faith can be as large as the sky and healing as a lover’s touch when we understand that God wishes goodness.”

“Two of the victims who died in the airplanes that crashed into the twin towers were coming to see me,” writes Deepak Chopra. “Looking back, I feel now the way I did back then, 10 years ago. Catastrophes are not a form of divine punishment, a test from God, evidence of sin, or secret messages from beyond. They are part of our divided world, and such a world reflects our divided self.”

T.D. Jakes writes that the lessons of 9/11 are hidden in plain sight. Among them: “We’ve neglected to comprehend that there is more that unites than separates us.”

To see all the essays, be sure to go here.

And remember.

When the devil comes calling

2011-09-09T07:00:00.003-06:00

When I hear about wives who had absolutely no idea their husbands were involved in Ponzi schemes, I get it.

Even though Jamie and I both work from home, he is holed up in his den in the basement up to 15 hours a day while I putter around on the upper two levels of the house.

For the most part, I don't question what he does. He has always proven to be a trust-worthy Mormon boy and our bills are paid. I mean, the guy is obsessed with pumpkins. How much of a trouble-maker could he be?

Until he received a phone call a few weeks ago. From A WHOLE LOT OF SIN.

In his defense, he claims it was his client, "A Whole Lot of Singing."

The jury is still out.

Limping along

2011-09-08T13:20:00.001-06:00

Yep, that's a picture of my real-life meniscus tear. Sassy, isn't it?

I've been busy trying to play catch-up after my drug-induced stupor last week. My prognosis: good. I started to turn the corner on Saturday and even limped to church and to a friend's dinner party on Sunday.

I had my follow-up appointment today and the doc said I'm healing nicely. He encouraged me to keep doing low-impact workouts the next four weeks until the pain completely goes away.

I'm opting out of physical therapy. If this was a total knee replacement or ACL, physical therapy would be a must but a meniscus tear is not structural. I'm confident I can tackle healing with my own home exercises because 1) I'm delusional and 2) Our deluge of medical bills has started to hit.

And like that picture, it ain't purdy.

On my one-week anniversary of my knee surgery on Tuesday, I went biking.

Or rather, made the attempt. I looked like a one-legged gimp trying to bike up the hill to my house without putting pressure on my sore knee. But I felt triumphant after doing it, despite the resulting pain the next day.

My motto these next weeks: One step forward, two steps back.

Fat Kitty's Soul Mate & Internet Sensation

2011-09-06T05:00:00.000-06:00

Thanks to everyone for your well wishes during my painful recovery week. The first five days were decidedly hellish but I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. Jamie has been a tremendous help though he's been struggling with some pretty severe rheumatism attacks of his own so I have felt guilty every time I ask for assistance. It's so like him to steal my thunder.

Case in point: after birthing baby Bode, I sent Jamie home from the hospital immediately thereafter stating "you're useless to me." He was sicker than he's ever been and instead of his mom helping me with Bode those first few days, she had to tend to poor Jamie.

My only constant last week was Fat Kitty. I'll admit it: sometimes when I'm overwhelmed with stress, I look at his lackadaisical life and think, "I'd just like to be him one day." Let me tell you: I was him--passed out all week long and it was highly overrated.
When Jamie walked into the bedroom one night, he confirmed, "The only thing more pathetic in this house than you is the cat."

While on the subject, there is a lot of curiosity surrounding Fat Kitty, usually re: what he eats. I hate to disappoint but he honestly is a light eater--he has about 3/4 of a bowl of kitty food per day and the occasional kitty treat. He does not eat human food.

So, how did he get so fat? He was big when we brought him home from the shelter. Possible explanations are that the fat dude is just big-boned (and large stomached). Or maybe he has a thyroid problem.

But my friend Stacey in Calgary sent me an article about a cat that is assuredly Fat Kitty's evil twin. I mean, take a gander.

Fat Kitty:

Evil twin, Fat Boy.
Fat brothers from another mother.

Anyhew, for anyone who has ever been on diet, you will get a crack out of Fat Dude's weight-loss plan...and his MacGyver-esque moves to swipe food. He has become an Internet sensation in Canada.

For obvious reasons. Read on:

Fat Cat Diet Sparks Big Internet Sensation
By Heather Polischuk, Postmedia News

A fat cat living at a Saskatchewan animal shelter has managed to squeeze his way into the hearts of many.

Fat Boy, an eight-year-old tabby cat, has eaten himself into becoming the Moose Jaw Humane Society’s poster kitty for healthy eating — even if he isn’t entirely sold on the idea.

Even so, he’s generated quite the fan base, which is growing thanks to the society’s Facebook page that includes what they’ve dubbed “Fat Boy Fridays.”

Karla Pratt, the fundraising and promotions director, said Fat Boy was surrendered to them in 2006 because his then-owners said they couldn’t keep him because he was eating their other cats’ food.

In those days, the tubby tabby was known as Boots — but that soon changed after he was allowed out of his kennel and into the free-range cat population.

“We have free-range feeding stations around the shelter for these cats so they can kind of come at their own leisure and eat,” Pratt said. “This was probably not the best idea for a cat that was already a little bit big. He was able to help himself and he did so gladly, and over time he assumed the moniker of Fat Boy.”

It was during one of the feline’s yearly checkups that the vet warned that if staff didn’t get his weight under control, he’d end up with some serious health problems. It was during that visit they discovered he weighed 23 pounds — almost 10 pounds more than he should.

By then, Fat Boy had already developed quite a local following, drawing regular visitors to the humane society to see him. (He is now a permanent resident and no longer up for adoption.)

“People will make a special trip to the shelter just to say hi to Fat Boy,” she said. “We’ve got our regulars who come to visit him and they’re always upset if they can’t find him.”

But there is a place where the popular puss can always be found — Facebook. The society started its site several months ago, and when Fat Boy’s diet officially started five weeks ago, it became a weekly event on the page — with weigh-in Fridays referred to fondly as “Fat Boy Fridays.”

It’s a slow process, to which many dieters can attest. With a goal to weigh 15 pounds, Fat Boy has some distance to go — and he isn’t making it easy for staff. While he hasn’t lost his easygoing, couch potato personality, he’s shown staff he can be quite the resourceful furball when it comes to food.

They were stumped during a previous weigh-in when they discovered he’d gained back the two ounces he’d lost the week before. The answer soon became clear.

“We went out into the main cat adoption room and here he was stealing food from one of the caged cats’ kennels,” Pratt said. “He had reached in, tipped the bowl over and was scarfing it down off the floor as quickly as he could like a ravenous wolf.”

That particular problem was fixed by putting the caged cats’ food dishes at the back of the cages where they’re out of reach. Staff have had to be equally resourceful in keeping up with Fat Boy’s other methods of securing extra food while contending with restricted-calorie food and smaller, controlled portions.

“He is very determined to get any food that we have down,” Pratt said. “He’s in there like a dirty shirt, so we really have to be careful where we leave the food even around the shelter now. We do have a food room and we have to keep everything else locked up in cupboards where he cannot open the doors or else get a big Rubbermaid tub type of thing where he can’t get into it — because he will actually rip the bags open. So we need to be very strict with him, that’s for sure.”

One method they’ve tried has been a box with a hole cut out — big enough for only the slimmer cats to squeeze through to get the food inside. It’s still a work in progress as staff discovered Fat Boy was reaching in and grabbing the forbidden food.

“He’s a bit of a MacGyver,” Pratt said.

Throughout the process, Fat Boy has had plenty of support, with the Facebook page showing comments from right across North America.

Fat Boy’s girlfriend, six-year-old Mama Cat, has been equally loyal, Pratt said.

“He is her big ball of fun,” she said. “She has told us that she will not judge him by his size and she will remain loyal to him no matter how famous he gets.”

Pratt said she hopes pet owners learn the importance of keeping their furry family members at a healthy weight.

“He’s going to set a good example for all the other overweight felines out there, and dogs too for that matter,” Pratt said. “It’s never too late to lose weight and get onto a healthy regime.”

(See Fat Boy on CNN).

The party continues

2011-09-02T12:00:00.001-06:00

I've already made it clear I despise being forcibly stuck at home but to spend two entire weeks out of the past three flat on my back? Tedious.

My first couple of days after my knee surgery, I was so doped up on anesthesia and Vicodin, I barely noticed. In fact, during one of Hadley's half-hour-long "I don't want to read and you can't make me" tantrums, Jamie was shocked when I didn't get frustrated at all. It was a new side of me I didn't know existed: drug-induced patience.

Now, if only there was a non-narcotic solution for dealing with homework hissy fits.

But yesterday, I hit the wall with the whole thing. Sure, I was in very little/no pain but I also hadn't slept in a few days, had major internal plumbing issues and was in a miserable haze.

And so I'm weaning myself off the hardcore drugs. This meant Thursday was my most painful day yet but I'd much rather figure out a way to naturally manage my pain than stay up all night hallucinating about cotton balls and rainbows.

Recreational drug users who think it's fun to live in La La Land are just stupid.

Today, I have a whole new set of problems. I was in an excruciating amount of pain last night due to Said Plumbing Issues so I sent Jamie to to buy me some drugs. I took the maximum dose last night and then again this morning...and nothing.

That's the maximum dose twice over the course of 8 hours if you're keeping track.

But then they finally kicked in and I've had a whole lot of something which amounts to bathroom trips every five minutes on my painful knee, along with exhaustion and nausea. As miserable as I am right now, I'm trying to remind myself I'm just four days into my recovery and this, too shall pass.

And I can go back to just getting my knee better.

After all the drama, that somehow sounds like the lesser of many evils.

Why there will be no pumpkin weigh-offs this year

2011-09-01T07:00:00.005-06:00

Life has been rather silent in the pumpkin patch these days. The reason? There is great mourning in the land.

When Jamie first started his season with two seedlings in his makeshift growroom last spring, they were literally busting out of the pots within a week. Jamie planted them in the ground a bit early, covered them with a hoop house and warmed them with a heater.

That first night, they froze to death.

Since it was still early in the season, Jamie's pumpkin buddies came to the rescue by giving him a couple of starter plants. He commenced the process again and before long, he was growing one of the biggest pumpkins in Colorado. "Ricky" (Gervais) was on-track to top 1,100 pounds, Jamie's personal best.

Then August 19, 2011 happened: Jamie discovered a crack in the cavity.
Personally, I think it looks like a pumpkin butt crack picture.

This shot is much better:
An internal crack called a Dill Ring formed inside the pumpkin and intersected a deep rib and split the pumpkin open. This means it is now rotting out. Any pumpkin with a crack in it is automatically disqualified from the weigh-offs to prevent cheaters from pumping water into it to up the weight.

Personally, I'd go for lead.

That left Jamie's only other pumpkin: Jerry (Seinfeld). From the start, good ol' Jerry has grown a lot slower and Jamie didn't have big hopes for it.

Then August 27, 2011 happened: Jamie discovered a crack, which means his pumpkin season is now over. Over the next couple of weeks, he'll try to fill the cracks with sulphur and caulk to prolong the plants from rotting out before we can showcase them on our driveway this fall.

So, how am I feeling about it all?

I'll be honest. When Jamie's pumpkin got taken out from the tornado a couple of years ago, I wasn't very sad. He was far enough into the season that he couldn't start over but it was early enough that I could have my husband back for the rest of the summer.

This latest hit is the worst. As a pumpkin widow, this is the one time of the year I actually look forward to. September is replete with pumpkin festivals, our annual pumpkin party and the weigh-offs. Now, he's put in the work the entire season and has absolutely nothing to show for it.

The other day in the car, I confessed:

"This whole season has been a roller-coaster ride with a big letdown. I have to admit I'm over it."

Jamie: "You have to be 'into it' to be 'over it.'"

Touché

Partying it up during my inevitably long recovery

2011-08-31T03:20:00.004-06:00

So, I'm alive.

I just wish I didn't have this lovely reminder all night long with my drug-induced insomnia.

I awoke early yesterday to fastidiously shave my knee before surgery. I'm not what one could call vain but apparently I am as it pertains to unsightly knee hairs. Turns out I was better off with a bit of stubble because I gashed my knee.

So kind of me to give Dr. Stahl a headstart in the process.

Knee surgery went fine. Given my recent stint in the hospital for chest pains, getting my knee fixed was the lesser of the many medical evils we've endured in 2011. I tore my meniscus two years ago and had my first round of appointments almost a year ago.

By the time I was admitted for surgery yesterday, the staff at Panorama Orthopedic Surgeons & Spine Center kept asking if I was nervous. "No, I just want this to be over with," I repeated over and over again. And I meant it.

I'm not a person who needs a lot of hand-holding. I insisted Jamie drop me off, go home and work (he's as overloaded as usual), pick-up Bode late-morning, take him to Seanie's and reconnect with me in the recovery room (mine was an out-patient procedure and I was home by early-afternoon). Jamie initially insisted upon being there but I was firm.

"Listen, all you're going to do is waste time sitting in the waiting room for four hours."
"But what if you need me for something, like an emergency blood transfusion?"
"No offense, Honey. But you're the LAST person's blood I'd ever want to have."

We're no Edward and Bella.

One of the few nice things about having a husband who's a medical disaster is he's been through it before and knows the right questions to ask the doctor. Problem was, the doc and his PA never bothered to do a follow-up after the surgery and the recovery room staff was clueless. It was one of the many things that ticked me off about the sub-par care I received. Call me crazy but if I'm dumping thousands of dollars into a procedure, I'd at least like to know how it went.

But in the end, the only thing that matters is if they were able to fix the knee and that has yet to be determined. My follow-up appointment is next Thursday.

In the interim, I'm outfitted with some nifty ice packs and thigh-high anti- embolism T.E.D. stockings for the next 10 days (try sleeping with a girdle on your legs). But thank heavens for the Vicodin. I've been taking it regularly and had minimal pain until about midnight. Three hours later, I'm wired but my pain is in check.

I'm thinking taking an upper + bedrest will not = a restful combination for me. Hopefully I'll finally get some sleep when the kids are in school.

I have some swell friends from church who are bringing over dinners and Jamie has been taking good care of me. Mostly. He outfitted my room with a nice rose, plenty of DVDs and snacks. He works from his den in the basement and has graciously accepted my many requests via cell. His only failure was when I couldn't reach him about cranking up the air-conditioning so I told the kids: "Go tell Daddy it's too hot up here."

He started to reply he already turned on the air until he double-checked and realized he had accidentally cranked up the heat. Did I mention it's still upper 90s in Denver, that our upstairs is already a sauna and I'm wearing a leg girdle?

It's gonna be a long recovery for all of us. ;)

Today's knee surgery: It's all downhill from here

2011-08-30T06:00:00.001-06:00

I lived in Salt Lake City for five years after graduating from BYU. During that time, I explored every trail along the Wasatch Front but there was one standout. Rain, snow or shine, I'd arise before dawn and would run Red Butte Skyline Trail, arriving at the crest of the mountain just as the sun kissed the Salt Lake Valley.

And yes, I did say run.

As in uphill.

By choice.

Since moving to Colorado, I've often longed to return to Red Butte but there has never been the perfect opportunity. When I was in Utah last summer, I finally found one thanks to my mother-in-law who offered to watch the kids for a couple of hours.

I drove through former military garrison Fort Douglas and passed the entrance to Red Butte Garden Arboretum. I followed the tree-lined gravel road to the cosseted parking area.

For the past two years, I've had to relinquish running due to my bum knee so I hiked a trail that starts on a closed-off service road and gradually climbs along gurgling Red Butte Creek. Deeply furrowed Western River Birches lined the path as I crossed over the creek and started the steep climb.

I wanted to run. I needed to run. In a move right out of Star Wars when Yoda limps to the fight scene with his cane and proceeds to kick Count Dooku's butt, I kicked it into gear. Backpack bouncing, hair flailing, I grew wings as I flew along that trail.

OK, so maybe I was going downhill but work with me here.

It was a taste of the former life I loved and desperately missed.

Today, I am going under the knife for my knee surgery.

And hope to take flight again soon.

At long last: the sordid details of my joyride to Paris

2011-08-29T07:00:00.002-06:00

On Friday, my 7-year-old daughter did not come home on the bus as expected.

In a frenzy, I tore over to her school and was terrified when the staff was unable to locate her. "Haddie's teacher said she got on a bus but we're not sure which one," they assured me.

As I was conjuring up every worse-case scenario in the book, they located her on the same bus she rides in the morning, which is different than her afternoon bus. Call me crazy but switching up the route...and bus number...is confusing for young kids.

And mortified parents.

I posted my angst to my friends on Facebook and while most were sympathetic, some of my closer friends blamed me, citing "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Amber." And exactly are they referring to? My accidental joy ride in Europe.

When I was 21, CLICK HERE TO READ ON AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM

How to spend the perfect Colorado day

2011-08-27T16:30:00.005-06:00

As a family travel writer I am often asked by visitors, "If you were new to Denver and had just one day to see the nearby back- country, what would you do?"

Today, we did IT:

Namely, hiked to St. Mary's Glacier and indulged in one of BeauJos Pizza's famous mountain pies in nearby Idaho Springs, CO.

St. Mary's Glacier is one of the top tourist destinations in the area and for good reason: it's located 45 minutes from Denver just 9 miles off I-70. I've done this hike every year since I moved to Denver.

Well, with the exception of when we arrived at the trailhead a couple of years ago and Jamie ran over Hadley's foot with the car.

Gracious parents that we are, we let her forgo our annual adventure.

This is the second year in a row our kids have hiked to St. Mary's Glacier by themselves. I wouldn't call this a particularly easy hike (it's really steep and rocky without adequate signage) but it is relatively short (just 3/4 mile to the base of the glacier).

There is also a big change this year. The lack of parking has been problematic and we were usually forced to perch on the shoulder of the road overlooking a steep cliff. Remember when Jamie ran over Haddie's foot? That occurred whilst precariously parking. This year, they have a designated overflow lot that'll cost you $5.

Well worth it to avoid trips to the hospital.

The steep, rocky hike:

Overlooking St. Mary's Glacier and lake. The 1.5-mile round-trip hike to the base of the glacier is only the start of the adventures. Every year, Hadley begs to go higher and higher. By next year, she'll be capable enough to summit the darn thing along with the kamikaze skiers and snowboarders. This year, we held Adventure Girl back as much as we could.It's only a matter of time 'til she's hauling her skis up there.

And dragging her poor mother down with her.

(Topping off a perfect day with BeauJo's BBQ Chicken Mountain Pie)

Getting There: Take I-70 West from Denver, past Idaho Springs' three exits. Take the next exit marked "Fall River Road." Just past the bottom of the ramp, take a right (north) on Fall River Road. Follow this road up approximately 9 miles to one of two parking areas for the clearly marked trailhead to St. Mary's Glacier.

A good-bye to summer (PLEASE?!!!)

2011-08-25T07:00:00.001-06:00

I've been rather silent regarding Denver's weather. There is a reason for that. I have renamed my city the Devil's Summer Home.

Usually by late-August, the temperatures are cooling down and the nights are glorious. What we've endured as of late? Record-breaking 95+-degree weather.

Miserable doesn't quite summarize me.

I have been surprisingly proficient during the day. I would wake up early, go biking or hiking, play outside with the kids and then stay holed up indoors in the afternoon or go to a water feature somewhere.

What has really been kicking my butt have been the evenings. When it's this hot, the temperatures don't cool down, rendering out ceiling fan (which usually cools the house) useless. Our air-conditioning unit is too small for our house so our upstairs is a sauna. In a perfect world, I'd leave our bedroom window open but alas, we live near a train track and the whistle keeps me up all night.

Oh, did I mention it's allergy season and the field of weeds behind our house?

I've been waking up between 3:30-4:30 a.m. every morning and wander around like a zombie for the rest of the day.

On the final day before school started, it was 100 degrees so I announced to the kids we were going to our favorite secret watering hole off Ralston Creek. Here are the kids last year:

Here are the kids this year.As it turns out, it was the perfect reprieve with plenty of creek-wading, log-scaling and tree climbing with our besties Sean and Alex.
I'm counting this blog post as my official end to summer.

Now, if Denver's weather could only figure that out as well.

School's Back....From Summer (and Bode's anxieties)

2011-08-24T11:15:00.000-06:00

I'll be jumping around quite a bit the next couple of weeks as I post the rest of our summer adventures but for the the sake of the grandparents, today was the first day back at school!

We started out with a special breakfast of pancakes with fresh raspberries and fruit smoothies. For special occasions, I always bring out our "You Are Special Today" plate. Starting kindergarten at a new school trumps entering second grade so Bode got the plate. In the sweetest little voice, he queried, "Am I special today, Mommy?"
You'd better believe, it Buddy.

But so is this gorgeous girl.
Haddie's outfit is courtesy of a shopping spree with Grandma B. in Canada. Bode's ensemble is thanks to Grandma J.

It was my best back-to-school shopping year ever.

I'm thrilled both kids scored the best teachers at the school. Haddie already adored hers and many of her closest friends are in her class. But the greatest news of all? Their class pet is a hamster! As in a real one! At back-to-school night, her teacher had a sign-up sheet for kids to take Gracie the hamster home every weekend for an entire month! Imagine the excitement!
That is one thing I conveniently forgot to volunteer for at back-to-school night.

Entering kindergarten is a big milestone but for some reason, I wasn't overly sentimental about it. This is likely because Bode will only be in class for 2.5 hours a day, less time than preschool. Next year when he's in school full-time will be a bigger adjustment for us all.

Bode is a pretty go-with-the-flow kind of kid and though he's initially a bit reserved, he has no problems making friends. However, I have sensed some deep-rooted anxieties about kindergarten because he doesn't know anyone.

Let me scratch that: he doesn't know any boys.

We have two girls from church who are in his kindergarten class but in Bode's world, they don't count. I first realized he was anti-girls when we were at Coscto's food court a couple of years ago. A few darling girls from his preschool came over and I kid you not--they fawned all over him. Bode was mortified and didn't even look up from eating his hot dog despite my many pleas to be social.

After they left, I asked him why he wasn't friendly and he excused his behavior with, "I was hungry," which is boy-code for "I don't like girls.

Problem is, girls really like him because he's cute, thoughtful and nice.

Of course, that will all change in a few years when they start going for the bad boys. Sadly, Bode doesn't realize these are his years to capitalize on their affections.

There are three kindergarten classes at Bode's school: the morning class (his), the afternoon class and an all-day class. Knowing his apprehension about making friends, I took him to a kindergarten playdate on Saturday so he could mingle with his peeps. Problem was we couldn't find even one boy in his class so he buddied up with an all-day kindergartener.

Who was, of course, a boy.

This morning, Jamie and I arrived at the school early with the kids. Bode's classroom is in the 2nd grade area so Hadley will be right next door. The kindergarteners were required to line-up against the wall before going in. At first he looked pretty chill until a girl arrived. And then another girl. Then more girls. I kid you not--at one point, there were eight girls and just Bode.
Basically, it was his worst nightmare.

A few token boys arrived later but that didn't dispel his anxieties when saying good-bye.
The 2.5 hours flew by but when I picked him up, he was a different kid. He enthusiastically rambled on about the class rules (don't know who gets excited about that), why kindergarten is better than preschool (they have a library) and that he made a friend (Trey).

He also had a couple of boys who will assuredly become his BFFs because they complimented him on his backpack.

Mario: The great bonder for boys everywhere.

Why I might drown for the 2011-12 school year

2011-08-22T07:02:00.002-06:00

Friday was our back-to-school night. For the first time, my kids will be at the same school: my daughter is entering second grade and my son is in kindergarten.

Before you start congratulating me that I have "arrived," kindergarten is for a measly 2.5 hours, a mere drop in the bucket in the downpour of motherhood.

What I hoped to get out of the evening: Meet my children's teachers, deliver their school supplies, connect them with future classmates, and point out the bathrooms (it's best to keep expectations low).

What I got:

CLICK TO READ MORE AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM

Birthday wishes to a prophet and a tribute to the family

2011-08-21T03:00:00.002-06:00

When we have sampled much and have wandered far and have seen how fleeting and sometimes superficial a lot of the world is, our gratitude grows for the privilege of being part of something we can count on--home and family and the loyalty of loved ones. We come to know what is means to be bonded together by duty, by respect, by belonging. We learn that nothing can fully take the place of the blessed relationship of family life.

-President Thomas S. Monson, "A Sanctuary From the World, 2008. Born August 21, 1927.

Calgary Zoo with Aunt Sue, Mom & Dad.Niece Ashton's darlings in Calgary.
My amazing sister-in-law Jane and niece Emily in Calgary.Dear Aunt Sue aboard Calgary's only paddlewheeler at Heritage Park.Aunt Lisa in Crested Butte, Colorado.

Grandma and Grandpa Johnson in Utah.

Uncle Jer, Aunt Tammy and our darling, prayed-for nieces.

Great Grandpa Smith, our only living grandpa (Bode taught him to play Angry Birds.)

Uncle Chris, Scofield Lake, Utah.

My niece Ashton's temple sealing for time and eternity with her husband Fred in Cardston, AB.
Darling nieces at Wheeler Farm, Utah.The Borowski clan in the Outer Banks.Crab stalking in the Outer Banks with my brothers Pat, Jade and Dad.
Lazy summer days with Grandma Johnson in Utah.The man with whom I've started my own family atop Bear's Hump in Waterton Lakes National Park, Canada.Mom and Dad on a walk in Fish Creek Provincial Park, Calgary.

Everywhere, with everyone, is a little cut of home.

Summer Doldrums and Fat Kitty Torture Techniques

2011-08-19T08:30:00.000-06:00

One of the few positives to come out of my recovery period (I'm currently on Day 7) is my home-bound kids have been forced to come up with their own entertainment.

Why would that be a good thing? We've had such an active, amazing summer that the mere thought of school sent shockwaves through them. Now that the doldrums have set in, their return to school next week won't be nearly as traumatic.

Waking up at 7 a.m. is another story.

Though I'm grateful I'm feeling better every day and now only have very minor, sporadic chest pain, my house arrest has confirmed to me I am not a homebody. Here are a few things we've been doing:

1) Hung with friends. My friend Tina came over on Monday with besties Nolan and Rowan. Gone are the days when they played dress-up and got nekkid but they still had a grand time slip 'n sliding and burying Haddie in the sand. Clothed this time.

2) Ate. Many supportive friends have brought over treats. When in doubt with how to pander to the sickly, food is a good choice.

3) Showed Mommy new tricks in an effort to induce a real heart attack.

4) Weeded the kids' overgrown pumpkin patch. That was Day 5. And the ultimate evidence I was bored out of my mind.

5) Witnessed ~~a miracle~~ Fat Kitty catch a mouse in the garden. Unsure of what to do with the little critter, he did the ultimate in animal torture: he sat on it.

(Hadley commemorated the occasion by drawing this picture of the mouse in his mouth).

4) Played soccer with Fat Kitty. Or rather, at him.

Me: "Bode, don't kick the ball at poor Fat Kitty!"
Bode: "But Mommy, he's the goal!"

The reality of my favorite place on earth

2011-08-18T06:00:00.001-06:00

I’ve traveled the world but if I had a favorite place on earth, Waterton Lakes National Park is it. Located in the southwest corner of Alberta, Canada, Waterton forms the world’s first international peace park with its better-known neighbor Glacier National Park in Montana.

Waterton does not have time to waste on nonsensical foothills. From the wind-swept prairies, the narrowest point in the Rocky Mountains does a dramatic upthrust to form staggeringly beautiful peaks in this intimate national park that measures just 200 square miles.

It has been 10 years since I was in Waterton and I have long dreamed of taking my family there. I had the whole thing mapped out in my mind. As we approached the valley, we would stop at the stately Princes of Wales Hotel. Built in 1927, this hotel is perched on a bluff overlooking Waterton Lake and has some of the best views.

We would browse the Canadian souvenirs in the hotel's gift shop.

Tour the hotel.

And then we'd go out to the lawn where we'd pose for pictures.

Looks like a cut of The Sound of Music?

Think again. We made a tactical error in doping Haddie up on Dramamine to combat her carsickness. The drive from Calgary to Waterton is three hours and usually she conks out just a few minutes after taking the medication. She didn't this time.

By the time we arrived in Waterton, she had reverted to the Terrible 3s and was out of her gourd with fatigue and crankiness.

You know, during the moment I've dreamed about for the last 10 years.

Just keeping it real, people, keeping it real.

The coolest kids adventure race on the planet: in pictures

2011-08-16T07:00:00.005-06:00

On Saturday, Hadley competed in the KEEN Vail Kids Adventure Race. I was devastated to miss it due to my hospital stay but had a blast "training" her and our neighbors (who also competed). Over the last few weeks, we hiked, biked and zip-lined all over Denver.

But nothing could have prepared them for the adventure race, which was so much more challenging and exhilarating than they could have imagined. Since I wasn't there, I was grateful to my friend Jennefer who let Haddie stay with her overnight and took pictures of their great adventures.

=========

The Race

Introducing: Team Adventure Girls with Sydney and Hadley.
Off the starting block. Girls vs. boys, neck and neck (Haddie and Syd are on the left).

At one point partway through the race, Hadley and Sydney started to pass a boy's team, which prompted the chauvinistic father to shout at his son, "If you let that happen, I will never enter you in another race again!"

I will include Boy Domination in next year's training.

There was a tunnel through the river that later included a huge obstacle the girls needed to haul their bikes over.
There were plenty of volunteers to assist in the transition areas. The girls were in charge of keeping track of their map and getting a stamp at each station in order to move onto each new challenge.
Sydney was a fantastic teammate, frequently helping and encouraging Hadley throughout the race like this ropes course.

Slip slidin' away! (Haddie's favorite part).
Official hiking trails?
Adventure racers don't need no stinkin' hiking trails. They go straight up the mountain.
But they do need a zip-line to race back down.

The tubing portion was a nice reprieve from Vail's toasty temperatures.

I know it's not kosher to pinch hardcore adventure racer's cheeks but that's what I want to do when I see this cute picture.

Haddie also told me about the "little waterfalls" they went down.

I didn't have the heart to tell her they're called rapids.

Of course, what would an adventure race be without a climbing wall....

...and a mud pit to finish things off right?!

Or just really, really dirty.

Haddie had a blast competing in the KEEN Vail Kids Adventure Race. Was it a cakewalk? Definitely not. In fact, some sections of the course (particularly the mountain biking) would have been a challenge for adults. Despite being an adventurous kid, a couple of times she was freaked out to the point of tears.

But the greatness of a race like this is it yanked her out of her comfort zone where, in a controlled environment with capable volunteers, she challenged herself. I realized as parents, we shelter out kids too much and often don't let them realize their true potential because of our own insecurities.

Hadley overcame her fears and has not stopped talking about the race. In a word, she triumphed.

And you'd better believe come hell or high water (or hospitals) I'll be there to watch her do it again next summer.

(Non)Expert advice: Save the marriage & do not back-to-school shop together

2011-08-15T07:00:00.004-06:00

If there is one thing I despise about back-to-school, it's the shopping.

Now, let me be upfront here: If it isn't Costco or Target and ends in ________ mall, I generally have to be dragged in kicking and screaming. For this reason, I left my kids' school supply shopping until just a few days prior to the advent of school last year.

Here's a little tip to the procrastinators out there: you will not win. The supplies will be depleted and you will have to go to several different stores instead of just one, augmenting an already stressful situation.

Note: if you somehow find school supply shopping cathartic, I will be happy expound upon the aberration of college-lined vs. wide-lined notebooks and my goose chase to find Elmer's Glue-all and NOT their School Glue (which is 99 percent of what the store carried) while battling a battalion of frenzied moms.

This year, I recruited a reinforcement and brought my husband Jamie. I handed him the much shorter list for my kindergartener (about 12 items) while I tackled my 7-year-old daughter's list (my sheet included the other grades' items as well).

Things shockingly went smoothy until they didn't.

Click to read on at MileHighMamas.com

My Diagnosis

2011-08-13T13:47:00.004-06:00

Note: After publishing this blog post, I realized this might be confusing to anyone who has not been following the saga on Facebook. After returning home from the hospital on Thursday, I experienced even more severe chest pain that night and readmitted myself to the ER the following morning.

It's been a long three days full of needles, tests and doctors. When I was asked by a nurse on Day 2 in the ER, "Hey weren't you in here yesterday?" it reconfirmed to me this ain't exactly the kind of place you want to be called a regular.

Heart pain isn't something you want to mess with, especially since just six months ago, doctors were throwing around terms like "open-heart surgery" and "stints" with Jamie. And even though I was praying like crazy it wasn't something serious, I have to admit I didn't want it to be something embarrassing like heartburn or acid reflux.

That is on par with feeling like you were having an acute appendicitis attack, only to realize it was just gas (been there, done that).

As it turns out, it was something: Costochondritis. Basically, it's a condition that causes localized chest pain due to the inflammation of the junctions where the upper ribs join with the cartilage that holds them to the breastbone or sternum.

It feels similar to a heart attack so the only way to diagnose it is to systematically rule out heart-related problems. Over the course of three days, I got X-rays, an EKG, a CAT Scan and a treadmill stress test.

Yep, those medical bills are going to be ugly.

When the pain was at its worst and I hadn't slept in two days, they pumped me with morphine, wherein I uttered such slurred profundities as "Sleeeeeepy..." and "DUUUUUUDE."

They kept me overnight last night for observation because my symptoms seem to worsen in the evening. I knew it was the right thing to do but that evening, we were supposed to drive Haddie to Vail (about 1.5 hours away) where she would compete in her adventure race today. For the past few weeks, we've been biking, hiking or zip-lining every day as a part of her training. I am devastated about missing it but grateful our good friends (with whom she is competing) took care of her.

So, I'm learning how to take it easy at home and I want to thank everyone for their prayers and well-wishes. I've been prescribed anti-inflammatories to reduce the swelling and vicodin for pain, and the prognosis is good. No one knows what causes it but out of all the heart-related conditions, this is one of the lesser evils. I mentioned earlier I've had these flare-ups most of my life (though never to this degree) so wasn't surprised to read Costochondritis is a common cause of chest pain in children and adolescents.

But there's one complication. If you'll recall, I was scheduled to have my knee repaired last February but Jamie had heart surgery the day prior so I pushed it back until we could pay it off. The rescheduled surgery was supposed to be in a couple of weeks and now we have a new deluge of heart-related bills.

But I'm not complaining. Maybe it's just the good Lord's not-so-subtle way of telling me I'm meant to limp around forever.

My Morning in the Emergency Room & Why I'm Pretty Darn Grateful About It

2011-08-11T14:10:00.004-06:00

Yep, that's right folks. I just got back from the emergency room. For myself this time, not my beloved medical-nightmare husband.

The culprit? My heart. Maybe it's just me but after enduring the uncertainty and downright terror of Jamie's recent heart problems and stints, you'd think we'd be exempt for the rest of the year, right? Wrong.

I've been blessed with good health and was reminded of this when the nurse at the hospital reviewed my spotless medical history. But there's been one weird condition I've occasionally had that I've never been able to pinpoint. Since I was young, I get this weird seizing up of my heart. I remember lying on my Aunt Miriam's couch when I was about 7 or 8 and feeling like if I inhaled even a little bit, my heart was going to explode.

The episodes never lasted long (about 15 minutes) and were infrequent (a couple of times a year). But yesterday while I was hiking with Haddie and her friend Sydney, my heart started seizing up. It has never happened to me before when working out but wasn't intense enough to cause much worry...until I arrived home and it didn't stop. And the pain augmented as the evening went on. Finally at around 1 a.m. I took some aspirin and finally got some sleep. I resolved if it wasn't gone in the morning, I'd go get it checked out.

Sadly, the pain persisted so I called my doctor who referred me to the triage who told me to go to the E.R. I grabbed some breakfast and waited it out for a few minutes. Jamie came into the kitchen:

"Why have you not left yet?"
"I'm waiting for the washing machine to finish so I can load the clothes in the dryer. Haddie's adventure-racing outfit is in there."
"Are you kidding me?! GET TO THE E.R. I'll change the laundry."

As it turns out, he forgot. This has instilled within me a greater purpose that I cannot die because the laundry would never get done.

I underwent an EKG and X-rays. Thankfully, everything checked out OK. The ER doctor's explanation was I had skeletal and muscular chest compressions, which I already knew. But my heart itself is fine and I was released four hours later.

As I walked out, a mother and her 12-year-old daughter were standing on the curb. As you probably know, the "rooms" in the ER are flimsy curtains so I heard this woman's story. At first, I've got to admit she grated on me with her piercing, slurred voice and I assumed she was drunk. As I eavesdropped, I ascertained she was more likely uneducated. She was probably my age but looked much older, 8 months pregnant, was in for a fractured ankle, had another 2 year old at home and was about as down on your luck as you could get.

I could hear her going back-and-forth with her tween. She was in an excruciating amount of pain and couldn't walk but they didn't have a car so they'd have to take a couple of buses to get home. And then they were gone.

A half hour later, I signed my release papers and was surprised to see this woman and her daughter outside of the hospital. I offered them a ride, which she gratefully accepted. She talked non-stop our entire drive--of how thankful she was for the ride, her 2-year-old's numerous surgeries for his club foot, wondering how she was going to take care of this new baby with her ankle, and hoping Medicare was going to cover her hospital visit. I talked to her daughter about entering middle school next week and we discussed how she could help her mom.

When we arrived at her ramshackle apartment on a dead-end street in the bad part of town, I helped her out of the car. She expressed her gratitude once again as her daughter assisted her inside.

And then I got in the car and cried the entire way home. Partly for relief I will likely be OK but mostly out of sorrow for this woman, her entire situation, the circumstances under which this baby will be born, and this sweet 12-year-old who's the same age as many of the girls I teach in church. And who's been given a pretty crummy lot in life.

When I arrived home, Jamie informed me his Aunt Norma suffered a hemorragic stroke and likely won't pull through. And then his Aunt Brenda had a mild heart attack.

Today has been a day of a whole lot of gratitude, perspective and a whole lot more prayers for the many who need them more than I.

Heritage Park's Glimpse at the Past

2011-08-10T06:00:00.000-06:00

This is quite possibly one of my favorite pictures that I took at Heritage Park Historical Village.

Both sets of grandparents were farmers so I was raised with a birds-eye view of the olden days and life on the farm.

My kiddos are finally old enough to really start appreciating our modern conveniences and they loved going back in time at Heritage Park. We explored some of the 180 historical exhibits, Gasoline Alley's extensive antique car collection, a gallimaufry of artifacts, rode on numerous old-fashioned carnival rides, chugged along on an authentic stream train as well as cruised on Calgary's only paddlewheeler on the Glenmore Reservoir.

Then we returned to Grandma and Grandpa's comfortable and cushy home.

I like to call our day the best of both worlds.

The ride of my life

2011-08-09T06:00:00.004-06:00

It's not very often I wax philosophical when I'm on the trail for an extended period of time. Usually I'm thinking about my family, deadlines, future projects and what I'll do with $1 million when it miraculously falls into my lap.

Gotta be prepared, you know.

But when I was in Calgary, I went on a bike that was a road map to my life. From the moment my dad first introduced me to this network of trails through a cossetted, overgrown opening in the fence when I was 13, I have clocked thousands of miles on Calgary's trail system (one of the most extensive in North America).

My favorite loop is a long one--close to 30 miles and 3 hours. It starts from my home, leads along the Bow River Pathway, intersects with the Elbow River Pathway, eventually spitting me out at one of my favorite places on earth: the Glenmore Reservoir. I then traverse several miles of roads to get home.

I feel bereft if I'm unable to do this trail when I'm home and lately it's been hit-and-miss. One year, much of the trail was closed due to flooding. Other times, it's been the weather. But this year, I specifically brought my road bike and announced to my parents I'd be arising early one morning to go for a ride. I was like a kid before Christmas and could barely sleep the night before, just knowing the trail I've been waiting two years to ride was going to be perfect.

It wasn't.

It started gloriously at dawn as I passed all my haunts like the world-famous Bow River (a favorite for fishing).
and Carburn Park.
(a favorite place for skipping school. :)

But things went downhill from there as I approached the Inglewood Bird Sanctuary & Nature Center. Usually this 36-hectare wildlife reserve is a favorite as it winds throughout the riverine forest by the flowing Bow River and alongside a peaceful lagoon but there was a big, ugly sign blocking my path:

DETOUR.

Problem is, there was no clear alternate route. I floundered for a while before eventually asking directions from a fellow biker. "Cross the Deerfoot (freeway) and you'll be connected with a trail on the other side. Follow that for a few miles and then cross back over before you reach downtown."

Cross over freeways? Through industrial sections? I debated turning back but stubbornly refused because I'd waited a long time to do this ride. I followed his instructions and was surprised at the unfamiliar vistas that opened up to me that were memorable in their own ways. After about a half hour of stressing, I eventually hooked back up to my original trail, thrilled to have mastered this new network and all the more grateful for the path I'd been on.

The lesson?

Life. My entire life has been one detour after another. From obsessed about playing college soccer in Canada to blowing out my ankle at 15 to giving up soccer to finding solace biking these same trails to now going to a church college in the U.S. to serving a Mormon mission I'd never intended to serve to having a career I never dreamed of having to marrying the love of my life and raising my family far from the land I love.

Detours.

That day, I eventually connected with my beloved Elbow River.

And a half-hour after that, my favorite perch overlooking the Glenmore Reservoir.

Like my ride, my life has had plenty of anxieties, bumps and bruises along the way but by never giving up the result was the same: I reached (and continue to reach) my destination.

And it has been all-the-more glorious because of my fortuitous journey.

The Calgary Zoo's Exotic Pink Bears & More

2011-08-08T07:00:00.001-06:00

Confession: I'm not a big fan of the zoo. I haven't always felt this way. As a kid, I have pictures of my friends and me bundled up like abominable snowmen as we wandered around the zoo for my birthday.

Which is in February.

In Canada.

Why didn't those parents of mine talk some sense into me?

Somewhere along my journey, I lost my luster for zoos (perhaps in sub-zero temperatures) but out of obligation for my animal-loving kids, I usually make a semi-annual pilgrimage to the Denver Zoo.

So, let's just say I wasn't overly enthusiastic when my Aunt Sue suggested we go to the Calgary Zoo. I mean, it's a zoo. With animals that mope around all day. How exciting could it be?

As it turns out: plenty. Rated as the top outdoor site in Canada, the Calgary Zoo features more than 1,100 animals. My dinosaur-loving kids LOVED the prehistoric park's life-sized dinosaurs, verdant foliage and bursting waterfalls.
Note: I don't think the fake dinosaurs were included in the official count.

I don't remember taking this shot of my mom's pink hat juxtaposed against one of the waterfalls.
But for artistic purposes, let's just say I framed it marvelously.

I fell in love with the Canadian Wilds section where the pathway snaked through natural habitats with native Canadian plants and trees. At times I swore I was hiking through the Canadian Rockies as we got up close and personal with a grizzly bear, moose, wood bison, wolves and more.

The kids particularly loved the interactive bear exhibit.

Though a few days later, Bode asked me what kind of bear "the pink one" was.

The Canadian "Care Bear," Son.

Normally we skip out on the carousel at the zoo but I made the exception this time because it hosts 30 figures representing endangered animals from all seven continents including a condor, elephant, otter, cassowary, swift fox, gorilla and more.

Given all of those exotic choices, what did The Boy choose?

He tracked down the one and only HORSE on the entire Carousel.

Best to stick with the pink bear next time.

We interrupt these Great Canadian Road Trip Updates....

2011-08-04T10:33:00.009-06:00

to announce we are home!!

Travel tales will continue next week but for now, we're submerged in work catch-up, mile-high laundry, back-t0-school shopping and chilling out. A few days after coming home, Aunt Lisa invited Hadley to go camping for four days at Lake McConaughy, NE.

Confession: I just had to Google the name of the lake because I keep calling it Lake McNaughty.

This is the second time Hadley has left home without us this summer, the first being her solo flight to visit Grandma in Utah. Most sibling would be jealous but Bode is a homebody and quite content to hang out here. In fact, he is in his element without someone constantly bossing him around.

When Hadley was in Utah last month, Jamie, Bode and I were driving home from church and the ride was uncharacteristically quiet. Jamie broke the silence.

"So, Bode. Do you miss your sister?"

No response. Jamie tried again.

"It's OK, Bode. You can be honest."

Finally, his reluctant confession: "Not really, Daddy."

Here's to a few more peaceful days of being an only child.

The Great Canadian Everything

2011-08-02T07:00:00.001-06:00

Despite the fact I grew up in Calgary, there are still some unfamiliar things when I return home.

The Money

Canadian money is always an adjustment. I prefer our colorful bills to American green drabness (sorry, George Washington) but still cannot wrap my head around the Canadian Loonie, a gold-coloured (yep, correct spelling), bronze-plated, $1 coin introduced in 1987. If that didn't weigh down my wallet enough, the government introduced the Toonie in 1996, a bi-metallic $2 coin.

Jamie and I had a run-in with the Loonie when we went grocery shopping at the Real Canadian Superstore (as opposed to the fake one), which was located next to Canadian Tire.

Just in case we'd forgotten we were in Canada.

In order to release the shopping carts, you need to insert a Loonie,which is returned to you after shopping. Problem is, Jamie and I spend a good five minutes trying...and failing to insert our money. Finally, a woman walked up to return her cart so I waved my Loonie like a madwoman proclaiming, "We'll give you our Loonie for your cart."

She denied us because she had a reusable cart coin that cost her $2 in place of the $1 Loonie every time she shops.

Anyone else as confused as we were?

Long story short, we finally got a cart (after losing face with my fellow Canucks) but went crazy at the grocery store. While the U.S. ethnic sections are preomindantly Mexican food, Canadian store aisles, delis and produce sections are stocked to the hilt with my favorites: Indian, Thai and Chinese foods. In the deli, we were got some sliced tandoori chicken for sandwiches. In the Thai section we got mango and also coconut/pineapple juice. In the bulk bins, we scored Canadian blue whales and wine gums.

Canadians have a few tasty tricks up their sleeves as well.

The People

During our long drive, a rock jumped up and chipped my windshield. I've been intending to get it filled and was thrilled when we pulled up to the Real Canadian Superstore and saw a small small canopy advertising rock-chip repairs while you shop.

What're the odds of finding that? Being in Canada is like having your own genie.

We handed over our car before going to wrestle our shopping cart Loonie. Upon our return, our exceedingly enthusiastic repair guy pointed out his impeccable work, triumphantly claiming the round-shaped chips were his favorite.

As we were driving away, I commented, "I've never seen a rock-chip repair guy so passionate about what he does."
"Of course he is," Jamie retorted. "He's chipper."

The Differences Between Canada and the U.S.

My kids have been shuttled back and forth between Canada and the United States since they were born. Such exposure gives them unique insights into cultural idiosyncrasies between the two countries.

Take Hadley, for example. As we were wandering through a darling gift shop replete with Canadian goodies such as Mountie costumes and maple fudge at Heritage Park, my Aunt Sue told me Hadley was recently expounding upon the difference between the two countries.

I awaited profundities. Perhaps she would reference the flags, the anthems, Canada's shining rivers, cool summers, friendly folks, democrats, Green Party and the Liberals.

Her observation?

"Canada doesn't have Target!"

I've taught her well.

=========

P.S. Target recently announced 105 locations that will be opening in Canada. Hadley will soon be proven wrong.

On growing up and being grown in Calgary, Alberta Canada

2011-08-01T09:35:00.000-06:00

There is something indescribably special about being able to return to your childhood abode. I came home from the hospital here. I took my first steps. I poured my heart out in my diary here (more of that hilarity later). I fell in and out of love here.

So much has changed: renovations that completely altered the exterior, the yard is fuller, the basement more cluttered.

Yet somehow, my house is grander than ever before.

The kids and I have had a fabulous time in Calgary and next summer, I yearn to stay longer. As my parents grow older and my mom's MS worsens, I'm reminded of the fragility of life. For the past couple of weeks, we relished every moment.

We dined daily on my parent's fabulous patio (did I mention the even more fabulous 70-degree temperatures?)
Bonded with the cousins.
Call me crazy but I'm thinking this picture should be on an album cover somewhere.

Partied it up with my family for Bode's 5th birthday and my sister-in-law Jane whipped up a fabulous gourmand dinner.

Though she doesn't believe it, I *swear* Bode requested the $80 tenderloin that I just happen to crave all year long.

Took a memorable father-daughter bike ride through Fish Creek Provincial Park (Calgary's largest urban park) whereupon my 70-year-old dad proves he's still got it.

Translation: he still hauled butt up those hills.

The kids partied it up in the grandparent's convertible PT Cruiser.

And yes, anyone who buys a convertible in Canada can only be deemed an optimist.

We built sandcastles at Lake Sikome with Grandpa.
Total bonus: My dad loves the water so I didn't have to go near it.

Downed chi-chi coconut cones at iconic My Favorite Ice Cream Shoppe.

But it was when my neighbor's grandchildren knocked on our door asking Hadley and Bode if they wanted to come play that my childhood memories washed over me like a tidal wave. I watched my kids ride bikes with their new friends, ride in my dad's golf cart and play on the tire swing.

I was reminded of my dear friends and the hours we spent frolicking in the gully, mastering our skills on my trampoline, creating worlds in our fort and scaling our backyard tree.

My childhood wasn't perfect but I was enveloped in the love of parents, grandparents and friends. The world was full of promise, possibilities, simplicity and joy. As a mom, I now recognize the many sacrifices my parents made for us. Out of my many hopes and dreams I have for my kids, in the end, the only thing that matters to me is for them to someday look back and say, "I had a happy childhood."

Because that was the gift I was given.

Zambia's Virtues and Vices (and why I want in)

2011-07-29T07:00:00.002-06:00

In addition to hanging out with my family, one of the best parts of my trip to Canada has been reconnecting with a couple of dear friends. My neighbor Stacey B. met us at Lake Sikome for an afternoon of fun and Stacey S. was a fixture at my house for a couple of days.

Basically, if your name wasn't Stacey, I didn't hang out with you.

Many people are familiar with young men and women who serve as Mormon missionaries but most don't know that retired couples are encouraged to go as well. Stacey S.'s dad and step-mom will be serving in Zambia, Africa starting this fall. "Senior missionaries" usually assist as local leadership, provide service and in the case of Stacey's parents, coordinate the C.E.S. (Church Educational System). When Jamie and I are older, I would love to serve a mission together.

Just think of the many remote villages who could have sustenance for months if Jamie grew giant pumpkins there.

We all have our ways of contributing.

One night, I set-up a blog for Stacey's parents so family and friends can follow their adventures in Africa. I wasn't too keen on Zambia until Stacey told me it is one of the best places to do a safari and is the home of world-famous Victoria Falls.

Photo

I fell in love with the area when Matt Lauer went there for the Today Show in 2004. I've since been keen on bungee jumping off the 152-meter Victoria Falls Bridge.

Photo

Stacey also told me about the crazies who soak in Devil's Pool, a natural rock pool at the very top of Victoria Falls (check-out the insanity here).

I'll stick with bungee jumping, thanks.

Stacey hopes to visit her parents and I've generously invited myself along (with a $2,000+ plane ticket, we can all dream, right?) Though there are many wonderful facets to Zambia, this country in southern African has one of the world's most devastating HIV and AID epidemics.

Stacey: "Did you know a Zambian woman's life expectancy at birth is just 39 years old?:"
Me: "How sad."
Stacey: "So, basically if that was us we'd be dead by now."

Or we could just hang out at Devil's Pool to speed up the process.

Great Canadian Road Trip Leg 4: Sandpoint, ID to Calgary, Canada

2011-07-27T07:00:00.001-06:00

I've had many people ask me just what does 31 hours in the car by myself with two kids look like? Take a gander:

It wasn't pretty but certainly was functional. I packed oodles of snacks, DVDs, DS games. travel easels and books (see the full list of activities here), which I plopped in a large laundry basket in between the kids' seats for easy access.

We caravanned with my parents from Sandpoint, Idaho to Calgary and stopped in Sparwood, British Columbia to check-out "The Titan," the world's largest truck.
I couldn't have asked for my kids to be better behaved and our final seven hours in the car were seamless except for two factors:

1) The Hail Storm.

We've had pretty great weather the entire trip with the exception of a stretch of road leading into Nanton, Alberta when we passed through a horrendous rain/hail storm. At one point, the hail was pounding my windshield so quickly my windshield wipers couldn't keep up and my 70-year-old father didn't slow down. As I sweated profusely (and in places I didn't know I could sweat), the only reassuring words were from Hadley: "I CAN'T HEAR OUR MOVIE!"

Remind me not to bring her along when in extreme diress.

2) The U.S.-Canadian Border.

I've traveled with my kids to Canada many times by myself but never by car. When flying, Customs requires I provide a notarized letter from Jamie stating I have his permission to take the kids out of the country.

Since I was driving this time, we called the border to ensure I didn't need the letter. They assured me I was fine but I was still paranoid (I've spent many past lives being detained in the "Taliban room") so I schooled the children prior.

"Now Bode and Hadley, when we get to the border, you need to tell them that Daddy is coming later."

I didn't tell them any more than they absolutely needed to know. I figured dropping the word "attempting kidnapping" could lead to trouble but as it turns out, trouble is what I got by withholding information. We waited about 45 minutes in line at the border and when it was finally our turn, I pulled up to the Customs officer who initially looked friendly.

Him: "Hello, Ma'am. Where are you traveling today?"
Me: "Calgary."
Bode: (Frantically Interrupting) "OUR DADDY IS COMING ON THE AIRPLANE LATER!"

From there, our easy-going exchange turned suspicious. He peered into the car at Bode and Hadley.

"Ma'am, what is your license plate number?"
"Err.... I can't remember."
"Please step out of the car."

After a painful interrogation, we eventually crossed the border but I learned an important lesson. When relaying important information to the kids, I need to disclose, "Only speak when spoken to."

Come to think of it, I'll make that our family motto.

Denver Mommy Blogger, Family Travel Writer, Mom Blog :: Crazy Bloggin Canuck

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A Memorable Canadian Christmas

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Happy New Year's interviews!

Snowmamas SnowFun in Park City

Christmas Card Love

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The Christmas Mystery of the Missing Dinosaur Egg

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Why I can relate to Benjamin Button

The Mommy Dearest of Toy Purging

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Why Hadley will be a supreme ruler

Our home's crime scene

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A Soccer Superstar is Born

Spontanaeity at its Worst

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In remembrance

When the devil comes calling

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Fat Kitty's Soul Mate & Internet Sensation

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How to spend the perfect Colorado day

A good-bye to summer (PLEASE?!!!)

School's Back....From Summer (and Bode's anxieties)

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