Crazy Bloggin' Canuck: A Denver Mommy Blog

My rivoting commentary on babies and b*oob jobs

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 07:00:00 +0000

Has it really been almost a week since my last ~~confession~~ posting? I've been busy. Really busy. Busy not sleeping due to the blasted time change, busy wrangling children, busy with travel.

Yes, my friends I have been in Motown where I came face-to-face with $100,000 crash dummies.

Not to be confused with some of my former flames.

They would definitely not be worth that much.

So, come on over to Mile High Mamas and find out what babies and b*oob jobs have in common.

I promise it's not what you'd think.

The party's over

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 17:20:00 +0000

Halloween a.k.a. my month-long party is over.

Well, month-and-a-half-long party if you count back to mid-September when I put out the decorations (much to Jamie's dismay).

In the end, we had really easy costumes: Bode wanted to be a firefighter (again) and Haddie opted for a bat. I simply resurrected the bodysuit from her kitty costume last year, found a pair of butterfly wings at the thrift store that I spray-painted black, styled her hair into bat ears and had Jamie make her a mask.

Cheapest Halloween ever.

We participated in our neighborhood's annual parade and the procession was led by a fire truck, perfect for the little firefighter himself.

And hung out with our neighborhood besties.

It was the first year the kids really got into trick-or-treating and wanted to venture beyond just our block.

Because they figured out more houses = more candy.

I did not approve of Haddie's choice to be a bat and cringed every time she made me do online research about them. She wanted to be a "mean bat" and was repeatedly annoyed when folks would comment how "cute" she was.

Bats are not cute, people. They are creepy, scary and ugly.

I mourned when I took down the decorations and lamented to Jamie, "Now that Halloween is over, what do I have to look forward to?"

Jamie: "How about Christmas? You know. Jesus' birthday."

Oh yeah. That.

Ever wonder where my Halloween obsession comes from? Checkout my parent's house in Calgary:

That picture is not even including the blow-up giant pumpkin on their lawn.

And my brother Jade's "Duct Man" costume this year.

Still searching for an explanation for this one.

This week in mommy blogger history

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 22:15:00 +0000

So, we've been busy.

Getting snowed in with record-breaking snowfall and trying out the kids' new shovels.

Building snow caves.

And yes, we're in Colorado (though it looks a lot like Canada)

Playing with the newest addition to our family.

Making a Dry Ice Crystal Ball at our annual Halloween bash.

(And miraculously, I did not blow up the house).

Making "Incredibly" eerie ghost sounds with balloons.

(I learned all these cool science experiments at a Steve Spangler Science event I attended. Checkout Mile High Mamas Creative Corner for more fun ideas).

And just being cute.

(Hadley is second from the left and had long since removed her bat costume. Bode is a firefighter on the front row).

The in-laws rushed their move along and were thrilled to leave this week because they "did not want to move in winter."

Sucks to be them.

This is the week we've been dreading

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 06:15:00 +0000

My in-laws are moving to Utah at the end of the week.

They have been an integral part of our survival since I moved to Denver seven years ago. When I had my children, my mother-in-law helped me in every way possible without ever overstepping her bounds.

When Haddie was little, she took her every Wednesday so I could have a break. My in-laws would watch our kids when Jamie and I wanted to go backpacking, on week-long cruises or just on a date night.

Basically, our life is over now.

Or at least it will suck as much as the rest of you who don't have family nearby.

On Saturday, my in-laws took the kids for the their final playdate and sleepover at their house. Jamie and I went on a date to new-to-us Purple Ginger Asian Fusion, snuggled in bed all afternoon watching football and then attended the Tennyson Center's '50s event benefiting the fight against child abuse. We attended with three beautiful bloggers and their greasy husbands.

Jamie was the only greaser who realized five minutes before we were supposed to leave he did not have a white T-shirt so he wore a gray one.

And then he refused to roll up his pants and grease his hair.

Basically, he was the worst greaser ever.

We called the evening "The Last Supper." Cuz it kinda was for us with the loss of our babysitters.

On Sunday, the children at church had their annual Primary presentation. Hadley gave a stirring performance with her memorized line, "Read the scriptures and have family home evening." She sat on the front row of the stage and proceeded to yawn, stretch, check for loose teeth and basically do anything that did not require being attentive.

That's my girl.

That night, we had Duane and Linda over for dinner and carved the children's pumpkin. We topped the evening off with pumpkin gingerbread and caramel sauce for dessert.

The rest of this week will be a frenzy of helping them pack, move and then mourn. A couple of weeks ago, I volunteered to spearhead their Craigslist furniture postings. They had several big-ticket items they wanted to sell like their piano, dining room set and kitchen table. I wrote eloquent posts, really I did. I made people want to buy up every last item.

So, imagine our shock when they did not have even once person call them all week.

"You've overpriced everything," we told them. So my father-in-law went back in and reduced the prices. We had already lost one week in their very small two-week window.

It was then that he realized one minor detail: I had listed the wrong phone number.

On Every. Single. Listing.

You see, there is this glorious little tool called a cut-and-paste. And when you include one incorrect fact, you are able to unknowingly duplicate it many times over.

That's what you get when you're entrusting the sale of valuable goods with a medicine-induced blond Canuck.

And yes, I am available for all your copywriting needs.

Pumpkin Lovers Unite (and indulge in my recipes)

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 06:00:00 +0000

With Halloween upon us, my family is in the throes of Everything Pumpkin. While Jamie may be obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin, I am consumed with eating it.

I've always liked pumpkin pie but my obsession did not begin until I was pregnant with my daughter. Mid-October, I called home to my Canadian family as they were enjoying their Thanksgiving dinner.

Without me. The nerve.

When my mom mentioned they were eating pumpkin pie, it was then something ugly was triggered in that pregnant lady brain. It's tough to decipher but it was along the lines of this: Must. Eat. Pumpkin. NOW!

And I did. That very next day, my mother-in-law brought home one of Costco's glorious pumpkin pies and it was gone within 48 hours.

I don't even remember chewing; I think I must have inhaled it.

She shall hereby be known as The Enabler.

Most crazy pregnant ladies overcome their cravings but mine never went away. Fall is a trigger for eating pumpkin and my poor family has endured pretty much every pumpkin dish you can imagine.

Think I'm joking? I have made READ ON

Grumpy Old Woman

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 21:41:00 +0000

Mom Canuck always said if you can't say something nice, don't say it at all.

Which is why I'm not saying much this week.

I had to postpone Haddie's annual Halloween bash because this plague is still leveling me and I haven't slept in days.

Does bronchitis feel like death? If so, I think I'm suffering from both.

Speaking of death, we were sad to hear of the passing of our friend (and bishop) Darrin's grandfather. Of course, he was likely in his late 80s and such a passing is to be celebrated. Since Jamie and I have been so near death the past few weeks, we discussed our ideal age to meet the grave.

Me: "I want to live until I'm 89. Only if I'm healthy, of course."

Jamie: "No way. 85 tops."

Me: "Yeah, you're right. You're going to be a grumpy old man."

Jamie (glaring at me): "I wonder why."

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

On another note: what do you do when you're bored out of your mind and can't sleep all night?

The Monster Mash, of course.

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Note: Family Member #5 is the kitty that will be joining our family next week. That's blog fodder just waiting to happen.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 06:00:00 +0000

So, we're still sick. Jamie's hospital X-rays finally came back, disproving the pneumonia theory and likely pointing in the direction of H1N1. Fortunately, we've survived the worst and are no longer I-can't-drag-my-body-out-of-bed kinda sick but more like the walking dead. We're back in school and life and are no longer contagious but the lingering cough and fatigue are pretty darn miserable.

Plus, we've been busy helping my in-laws pack for their big move next week, which ain't exactly helping in the Rest and Recovery process.

Of course life with The Children is never dull, especially when you have Hadley around who is the very antithesis of boring. While snuggled up before bedtime, we had the following conversation.

Me: I want to hear the best and worst things that happened to everyone today.

Jamie: The worst thing that happened to me was when Hadley ate my ice cream.

Me: Oh. Anyone else?

Hadley: My best thing was when I ate Daddy's ice cream.

When Your Boat Gets Rocked

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 06:00:00 +0000

I grew up in the land of the "True, North, Strong and Freezing."

OK, so maybe I edited Canada's national anthem just a wee bit.

I love my hometown Calgary. I always will. When I left to come to college in the United States, a part of me knew I would never live there again. I was OK with that but every time I return home, something pulls at my heartstrings and I want to move back.

Until I endure a millisecond of their excruciatingly long winters.

My next love was Salt Lake City. I moved there after graduation and had the time of my life as a swingin' single. I ran mountain trails, backpacked the desert, dated a lot, found myself and established a great career as a publicist in Utah's travel and tourism industry.

And then I met Mr. Lord of the Gourds, my greatest love of all.

He lived in Denver and I fell in love with the packaged deal immediately. When we sat down to decide upon where we would live, three things sealed our fate: he lived in a fabulous city, had a great job and his wonderful parents were nearby. I packed up everything I had worked so hard to build in Utah and never looked back.

Until now. READ ON

A happy ending to a sad, sad tale

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 18:49:00 +0000

The Johnson clan is FINALLY on the mend. Of course, we're not fully recovered enough to go on an epic backpacking trip this weekend to Coyote Gulch with friends Dave and Rebecca that we have been planning for MONTHS.

Serious bummer.

We barely left the house all week but braved the cold and snow to attend our town's scarecrow festival last Saturday. Like the mythical phoenix borne out of ashes, there was a happy ending to The Great Pumpkin Massacre of 2009. Haddie and Bode's pumpkin didn't have a leaf on it after the hail storm but it rebounded over the course of a month and Jamie finally got it to pollinate on August 31.

We only had about two weeks of good growing weather and Jamie cut it off the vine a few days before the competition. Or rather, I should say he dragged his sick family out in the cold and snow to witness the vine-cutting ceremony.

Because surely this momentous occasion could not have waited an extra hour for the snow to subside.

And The Great Phoenix Pumpkin's final weight? 85.5 pounds. This is 0.5 pounds bigger than Haddie's pumpkin last year with a growing season that was cut in half. It was starting to turn orange but was never on the vine long enough to fully convert. Some picture-perfect moments:

Father and daughter in their matching pumpkin geek hats:

Their pumpkin was the second biggest in the children's division. Haddie and Bode received a ribbon and they took home a $30 gift certificate. For some families, their trophy case looks like this.

Sadly, this is only a small sampling of ours.

The truth: revealed

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 06:00:00 +0000

So, I'm curious to hear what your experiences with Parent-Teacher Conferences have been?

I am meeting with Hadley's beloved kindergarten teacher today for our first meeting. I'm not sure of what to expect but am not too worried because Hadley is shockingly well behaved in the classroom. She only ever had one *incident* in preschool.

And then she suffered Abuse By Carbs.

When I scheduled the appointment, I mentioned it to Jamie.

Me: You should come to Hadley's Parent-Teacher Conference with me.

Jamie: I'm not taking the blame.

It's my party and I'll blog if I want to!

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 06:00:00 +0000

October marks my official 4-year anniversary in the blogosphere. On a whim, I started my personal blog Crazy Bloggin' Canuck on MSN Spaces in October 2005. None of my friends of family understood what it was.

"A blob? Why would you want to start a blob?"

Or "don't you think it's a bit narcissistic to think people will want to read about your life?"

From Day 1, I obsessed over what should I write. I carried a notebook with me as everything (and everyone) in my life became blog fodder.

And then I got my first comment. From a stranger. I was initially confused. Why would this fellow blogger care about my little corner of the world? Slowly, I got it. This corner was part of a growing community of fellow freaks who shared their intimate details online.

And then I became hooked.

The following year, I switched over to this more personalized site at Blogger and a true "mommy blogger" was born. You have been my little community of mamas. You have come to my blog, I have come to years. It has been legalized stalking and vicarious living at its best. We *get* each other. There is no sugar-coating motherhood like I had endured at countless playdates.

But then the blogosphere evolved

READ ON

Les Miserables, Denver Style

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 00:30:00 +0000

So, we're sick.

If I had a $1 for every time I started a blog post with that, I would be a wealthy woman. About four weeks ago, I had a cold for a few days. Jamie caught it from me and has battled it ever since.

The kicker was when he went to Oregon last weekend for (what else) a pumpkin weigh-off. The day he flew home, I cooked, I cleaned, I doted on his children. I was the ultimate 1950s housewife waiting to greet him wearing a frilly apron and with a feather duster in hand.

OK, more like a fleece pullover and iPhone. We ARE in 2009.

What did Jamie bring me?

Pneumonia.

Yes, my friends he has pneumonia. He went to the doctor yesterday and he paid the hospital a visit today to get some X-rays because his condition had worsened.

Here's the great thing about working for yourself: unlimited days off when you're sick.

Here's the bad thing: you don't get paid.

Not even 5 minutes after he left for the hospital, a reporter from Channel 4 who interviewed me last week called to see if I could do a last-minute interview about how the FTC's new ruling impacts bloggers.

I had only a very surface knowledge of that 81-page ruling.

My house was a mess. Bode was poopy. After straightening everything and everyone up, I literally had 5 minutes to become an expert on it.

All I can say is good thing it wasn't live TV. Editing is a beautiful thing.

Oh, and they did a teaser for my segment on a commercial break DURING OPRAH.

It may be the the closet I'll ever come to her.

So, poor Jamie is currently passed out upstairs, Bode has a runny nose and Hadley and I are both battling sore throats.

At least it isn't lice, right?

So, here's my question: are you a suffer-in-silence type or do you need someone babying you the entire time? Jamie and I are a bit of both. We check to see if the other is alive and leave 'em alone to wallow in their misery!

The Wienermobile: The Ultimate Vehicle for Wacky Family Bonding

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 06:00:00 +0000

I get to do a lot of cool things through my job such as the time my family got an all-access pass at Disneyland or when we got an exclusive tour of the National Museum of Natural History.

OK, so may we didn’t actually do these things but we recently experienced something equally as life-altering:

My family rode in the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.

My first encounter with this 27-foot-long hot dog on wheels was last summer when I rode “shotbun” at a blogging conference in Chicago. I stayed in touch with the publicists via Twitter and was delighted to hear it would be visiting a King Soopers near my house.

As an FYI, there are six Wienermobiles that travel the nation extolling the virtues of processed meat (and making middle-aged women’s dreams come true). At most events, the Wienermobile’s doors remain closed to prevent wear and tear but the PR reps told me if we arrived at the end of the shift, we could get a ride.

I recruited 5-year-old Hadley but she was initially a naysayer.

READ ON

The Great Pumpkin Weigh-off!

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 22:25:00 +0000

Whew, finally a spare moment after a crazy week that entailed being interviewed by CBS 4 Denver, riding in the Wienermobile and being an honorary homeschool mom at hilarious science dude Steve Spangler's Halloween event for (you guessed it) homeschool moms. Basically, I learned how to blow up things.

Legally.

Last weekend was the weekend that wasn't.

Friday would have been Jamie's infamous pumpkin party: the time when we congregate and worship The Great Pumpkin before the ceremonial stem cutting, followed by the back-breaking process of hauling it out of the pumpkin patch.

I instead invited our dinner group over for a grilled pizza cook-off followed by New York Dolls on the big screen. It was a fun night but my beloved James was in mourning. He left early the next day to help his fellow Rocky Mountain Vegetable Growers unload their pumpkins at Jared Nursery's big weigh-off.

And no, I did not ever think I would marry a man conjoined with such an organization.

I coached volleyball at the church and then later joined him with the kiddos. In years past, the pumpkins were the main draw but Jared's beefed up the event to include jumpy castles (a.k.a. mosh pits for kids), a haunted house (that I had to endure eight times), and a hay maze (from which I'm still picking straw out of Haddie's hair).

I was originally going to sell my famous pumpkin bread but opted out when Jamie's pumpkin met its death. But I have plans for next year. Big plans. Plans that involve me buying this groovy wig(I'm saving my money now) and hawking my pumpkin wares.

Because I am not above exploiting The Great Pumpkin.

And no, I'm not kidding about the wig. I may even get a shirt made that says "Pumpkin Widow" to go with it.

The day turned out to be a lot of fun and a new state record was set: 1,282 pounds.

Jamie bought a new Sony Webbie and recorded his very first YouTube video with it. Be sure to stick around for the second half of the video. I promise the second song will make you laugh.

Note: Evidently YouTube does not like The Great Pumpkin. The first part of the video is black so try this link!

Your Opinion Needed!

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 06:00:00 +0000

My header has gone MIA. Last week, all my pictures went up in flames because the Photobucket account my graphic designer used went up in flames due to inactivity. We managed to fix that but still haven't figured out our latest problem. I think this is the universe's way of telling me a blog redesign is in order!

My Mile High Mamas post today is a pretty heavy topic. It's not something I usually delve into but I haphazardly posted a Facebook status update about it a couple of weeks ago and lo, were there ever some heated comments. I used some of them in the post so be sure to come on over and share your opinion !

Feeding the Addiction

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 22:05:00 +0000

When a loved one has an addiction, it is easy to get sucked into their world. Sure, you know it is unhealthy for them but you just can't refuse because you love them.

These people are called ENABLERS.

My friend Lisa shall hereby be called "The Enabler."

Sure, I kinda owe her after a minor indiscretion that involved giving her lice. But that is nothing compared to what she did today when she sent my dear husband spiralling deeper into the world of addiction.

You see, Lisa and her husband flip or rent oodles of houses. Their latest purchase was a foreclosed townhouse. When they checked it out for the first time, they discovered it was a veritable mari*j*uana treasure trove of growing equipment. She called the cops who cleaned out a lot of the actual goods but she was left with all the paraphernalia.

And then she remembered my giant-pumpkin-obsessed husband and his makeshift greenhouse. She called Jamie and he was over there faster than Linus in his quest for The Great Pumpkin. He sheepishly walked into the door with this:

And this.

Oh, and what would a makeshift greenhouse be without this?

He claims the wattage on the latter item is too great for growing pumpkins and he has threatened to swap it out for a smaller one on Craigslist. You know. That one website where people come to your home to buy the item.

"THE ONLY LORD THAT I ALLOW IN OUR HOUSE IS JESUS!!" I proclaimed.

Evidently, one Drug Lord's bust is another Pumpkin Grower's dream.

How An Innocent Pep Rally Can Invokes Future Child Humilation

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 06:07:00 +0000

Hadley will not graduate from high school until 2022.

This blatant reminder of my advancing age was reinforced at a pep rally held by our local high school cheerleaders. Kindergartners from six feeder elementary schools gathered to applaud the Wildcats and receive their very own Class of 2022 T-shirts to wear the next day as they walked our local harvest festival parade route.

Parents were encouraged to participate and, if they were pulling wagons, to decorate those as well.

It was then something very ugly was triggered. Something that I did not know even existed in the deep recesses of my mind. Some would call it school spirit. Others would call it obnoxious parents who go overboard.

You see, I was always highly competitive in sports but I wouldn’t say I had a lot of school spirit. Who could blame me? Our junior high mascot was a hippo. It’s tough to get psyched when someone calls you a barrel-shaped artiodactyl mammal.

The emergence of Said School Spirit came with a complication: READ ON

Picture help needed!

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 06:00:00 +0000

Jamie bought me a new Sony Vaio laptop in April. Overall, it has been very functional and I enjoy it. But I have had one very big problem from Day 1: my pictures take forever to load.

OK, maybe forever is a bit of a hyperbole. Let's just say a reallllllllllly long time. The equivalent of 2 days in Amber time.

In the beginning, it would take about 20 minutes to download a few pictures from my iPhone and digital camera. Then it turned to a couple of hours for a batch of 20 pictures.

I can't do slideshows because each picture takes about 15 seconds to load. Rotating them? Forget it. At least another two minutes per picture.

I've been going out of my mind and need advice if any of you have ever had this problem and if so, how do I fix this? Does anyone have any tips on another photo management system I can use to download pictures to my network that is NOT Picasa (which I hate).

Each time I try to download pictures, I am hopeful *this* time will be different.

Some call it early-onset Alzheimers.

But when downloading my latest batch of 25 pictures, I had to throw in the towel when I received this message:

Consider this my official SOS.

Inquiring minds want to know: does the Tooth Fairy have a criminal record?

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 13:00:00 +0000

Haddie lost her first tooth on Labor Day.

I'll admit it: my initial thought was not about this fun milestone but rather, I was horrified to think her teeth were rotting out.

After recommitting myself to do a better job at brushing, I turned to more important matters: what to do about the Tooth Fairy.

I was a believer. Jamie was not. From the get-go, his parents told him the Tooth Fairy wasn't real.

I'm sure they also boiled the Easter Bunny just like on Fatal Attraction and arrested jolly old men wearing a red suit for trespassing.

I'm in the camp where I think it's fun to play along with these traditions. So much of my childhood magic centered around believing. Of course, it can get taken too far but pimping up a fairy that appears in the night to leave you money?

Sign me up.

Jamie agreed to play along with everything. We had a problem, though: there was no physical evidence of the missing tooth because she likely swallowed it. I posted a query to my Facebook friends about what to do and their responses were very helpful.

Before bedtime, I sat down with Hadley and we wrote a note to the Tooth Fairy explaining our situation. One of my FB friends suggested we also leave the Tooth Fairy a glass of water so she could sprinkle her magic fairy dust that was the same color as her dress.

I loved the idea.

We put Haddie to bed and I started scrounging around for some money. I firmly believe less is more when it comes to setting expectations so I did not want to leave more than $1. Problem is I only had a $10 bill and lots of change. I knew Haddie would deem the tooth fairy a cheapskate if I went the latter route so I went door-to-door begging for a dollar bill.

Funny thing is, none of my neighbors seemed too surprised to see me doing this.

Once Haddie was asleep, I slipped into her room, left a note from the tooth fairy and $1. As for the fairy dust, I had a stroke of brilliance. She is absolutely obsessed with the color yellow and I thought she would be THRILLED to think the tooth fairy wore a dress that very color.

The only thing I hadn't anticipated is that it would look like the tooth fairy left her very own urine sample.

When Haddie found it in the morning, she naively sniffed it and said, "Yeah, it smells like water."

Just don't be surprised if you hear of any news reports about the Tooth Fairy being arrested for lewd conduct.

Do you let your children believe in the Tooth Fairy? If so, how much do you leave for each tooth?

P.S. Mile High Mamas, be sure to checkout my synopsis of the fantastic party I threw with Mom It Forward last week. It's not every day your party-goers jump in the pool fully clothed!

Our Labor Day Weekend...

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 06:00:00 +0000

...started with our annual pilgrimage to hike St. Mary's Glacier.

It ended before we even began.

Upon arriving at the trailhead, the only parking that remained was along a steep ledge so I hopped out to guide Jamie in his parallel parking efforts. Hadley, assuming we had arrived, jumped out too.

While it was still moving.

She started shrieking. I raced over to her side of the car and found her arm caught in the door. I released it, only to realize that was the least of her problems: Jamie had stopped the car on her foot.

"DRIVE, RIGHT NOW! DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE!!!!!!"

Rest assured, I am not a person you want to be around in a crisis situation.

Confused by my hysterics, Jamie paused, unsure what direction to go. Eventually, he just stepped on the gas and rolled off her poor little foot.

We grabbed little crippled Hadley and raced her to the back of our SUV. We removed her shoe and as we surveyed the damage, Bode (ever the supportive brother), came over and demanded, "I'm hungry. Feed me now."

He will not be mistaken for the sensitive type.

Even though her foot was miraculously fine, we skipped the hike and hung out at nearby Silver Lake before heading down to play in Idaho Springs.

Dejected from our misadventures, I promised them we would go visit Grandma Jean's kitties when we returned home. Our neighbor had somehow left the two people in the world her cats hate most (meaning: my children) in charge while she went away for the weekend.

They jubilantly raced across the street, I punched in the code Jean had given me to her garage door and entered.

Then the house alarm went off.

She hadn't mentioned anything about a house alarm.

I didn't stick around long enough to figure out how to turn it off. We hightailed it over to another neighbor's house who came back and did it for us. We settled into kitty stalking mode and all was well in the world.

Until the cops showed up.

I'll spare you the sordid details but they almost involved a preschooler and kindergartner doing hard time for catnapping (mug shots taken two years ago prior to our trip to Mexico. Oh, the foreshadowing.)

Oh yeah, and my dear husband who debated not vouching for us.

He was obviously still recovering from my near-nervous breakdown earlier that day.

I'll stop there and won't mention the freezer that was left open all night and how we woke up to all our nice, expensive meat oozing all over the floor, which then ~~inspired~~ possessed me to spend the entirety of my Labor Day cleaning out our garage.

Have I mentioned how glad I am the long weekend is over?

So, make me feel better. Tell me about all the horrible, awful things that happened to you over Labor Day weekend. Errr.... please?

President Obama's Speech: Will You Be Watching?

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 06:00:00 +0000

In case you have been living under a rock, President Obama will address the nation's children at noon today from Wakefield High School in Arlington, Va.

I first heard about the the debate that is swirling around his speech as I listened to NPR's riveting social commentary in the car.

OK, so it was a call-in session on alternative rock station Alice 105.9. Don't let that impact my street cred.

My first thought was that these opposing people were crazy. I incredulously posted on Facebook about how could anyone object to THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES trying to encourage our children to stay in school?

And then the plot thickened because I heard back from so many of you:

COME VOICE YOUR OPINION HERE. Will you be watching? Do you think everything has been blown out of proportion or do you think the government is overstepping its boundaries?

Bladdering On--Mass Destruction by Night

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 06:00:00 +0000

Life before children used to be different in many ways. I don't miss most of it but the one thing I miss: my glorious, impenetrable bladder.

My friend Dave nicknamed me "The Camel of the Pee World" on a backpacking trip in Yosemite due to my uncanny ability to hold it in...or just sweat it out. Probably a bit of both.

But then I had kids and a full night's sleep? Those days are over. I now have to get up at least once in the night to go to the bathroom. Pregnancy also made me neurotic about it. "Did I go or just think I went? Maybe I should try again because I don't want to wake up in an hour."

Welcome to my neurosis. I did that 10 times per night whilst pregnant.

These days, I really have it down to a urinary science and practically sleepwalk to the bathroom, after which I can usually fall back asleep. Saturday night, I almost made it through the night but was awoken at 4 a.m. by my internal alarm clock. I dragged myself out of bed, went to the bathroom and washed my hands. Only this time I did something a little bit different: I turned on both the hot and cold water, opposed to just the cold like I usually do in the middle of the night.

Livin' it up at 4 a.m.

I stumbled back to bed and fell asleep, only to be awoken at 6 a.m. by a crash and then Bode. Exhausted, I brought him into bed with me and I opted for another Girl Scout try at the potty before settling back in (again, the neurosis).

It was then that I noticed the floor was wet. Very hot and wet. Half-asleep, I waded through the water only to notice I had left the hot water running and it had filled up the sink, spilling over the counter and all over the floor. I turned it off, threw some towels on the floor and passed out in bed.

A couple of hours later, Hadley and Jamie burst into the bedroom. "What happened last night?" he demanded. "Oh, I left the hot water running for a couple of hours," I slurred.

"Well, it leaked all the way downstairs into the kitchen's light fixtures and it came crashing to the floor. There is now a big crack in our ceiling," Jamie exclaimed.

So that was the big crash.

I raced downstairs and sure enough our kitchen looked like a warzone. I spent the morning cleaning everything up.

On the surface, I am obviously the one to blame for this. I left the water running, causing it to gush everywhere. But really, is it my fault? Six years ago I could go through the night without a bathroom break. I even backpacked all over Yosemite earning myself the coveted "Pee Camel" moniker.

I blame the children for this incident.

Without them, I would still be asleep.

I figure it's only fair. Someday they will blame me for everything that has gone wrong in their lives, right?

So what do you "blame" your children for?

The Colorado Party's Over for This Mom Blog

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 06:00:00 +0000

It is finished. My family's Tour de Colorado, that is.

Much of our summer has been spent on the road partaking of Colorado's bounties with a few (OK many mishaps) along the way.

Beaver Creek, our final destination, was one of our favorites.

Come on by Mile High Mamas today and see why.

P.S. It doesn't have anything to do with the $50 kid's meal. We're still recovering from that.

Back-to-school revelries: in pictures

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 18:15:00 +0000

It is official: we survived our whirlwind summer and believe me, we were ready for it to be over. Our lazy summer afternoons were starting to look like this:

I am happy to say both children are tucked away in their respective schools. Of course, this deserves celebration and we've been doing our fair share of it around here.

It started with back-to-school night.

Bode is the blind boy in the sunglasses.

Then, it was a special steak dinner the night prior to school with Grandma and Grandpa, followed by father's blessings and a fashion show with the new school outfits.

Of course, the first day of kindergarten is not complete without oatmeal cookie pancakes for breakfast.

And a few rock-star snapshots.

This excited girl is with her darling new teacher. Miss P. is a far cry from the crotchety old bitty Hadley was supposed to have (who, lucky for us, prematurely retired).

I am sure there will be a record number of eager fathers who will volunteer in the classroom this year.

Today was Bode's first day of preschool. He woke up early, snuggled in bed watching Transformers, and then decided he would just as soon stay there all day. This school stuff, he explained, is for the Hadleys of the world.

Special breakfast and treatment? He didn't really care.

Take 2: I like to entitle "Don't wwwwweave me!"

But once in the classroom, the kid came to life. The teachers said he was so fun and well behaved.

As Jamie and I drove out of the parking lot after dropping him off, I let out a sob and in the same breath, sang "Freedom!!"

Jamie: "You sure made a quick recovery, didn't you?"

I'll be in therapy for two hours a day for the next nine months. Jamie would like me to spend it cleaning but in doing so, I would end up looking like this:

So you can find me here:

XOXOXO
A

If we build it, please don't come

noreply@blogger.com (Amber) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 06:08:00 +0000

I had never attended a community forum until last week. It likely stems from the fact that I’m Canadian and nobody really cares what a foreigner has to say.

Unless we end our sentences with a cute little “Eh.”

But this time I was invested: It was the third and final meeting about a neighborhood park near my house. My city has a glorious thing called a land development code that requires developers to donate to a fund. Our neighborhood’s nest egg has $1.7 million and they plan to build a park on 15 acres of undeveloped land.

The city planners had carefully implemented suggestions from the previous two meetings and overall, people seemed pleased. The park will consist of tennis courts, basketball, horseshoe, an inline skate park, a custom rock feature for climbing, playground equipment, small picnic shelters and a pot at the end of the rainbow.

Sorry, no leprechauns. That would be too good to be true.

But here's the deal. I never thought I'd get burned at the stake two weeks in a row. Over a playground, no less. READ ON .