Last week was a sleepless whirlwind due to:
The Cough
I developed a cough and not just any cough. This was a cough-’til-you-puke kind of cough, rendering sleep an impossibility. Sure, I could have gone into the doctor’s office but after my nervous breakdown a couple of years ago, I try to limit my visits to verge-of-death emergencies.
Plus, during Said Nervous Breakdown, I acquired The Good Cough Medicine. You know. The stuff with the goooood drugs.
However, I am one week into it and nothing is working.
The Trip
In the middle of it all, I had a trip to Aspen for the PRSA Travel & Tourism Conference. Picture a room full of hundreds of perky, cute publicists where the ratio of women to men is 10:1.
Basically, it was like my BYU experience all over again.
PRSA shuttled a few fellow travel writers to Aspen and put us up in style. I stayed at the Hotel Jerome, attended conference sessions, sat in between travel industry legends Everett Potter and the travel editor of USA Today during lunch, and attended a kick-butt media mixer at the glorious slope-side hotel, the Viceroy.
(Hanging with Emily of Hula Communications, Jennifer of Colorado Ski Country and Kara of The Vacation Gals.)
After a near-sleepless night, I got up at the crack of dawn to hike the Ute trail with a few other gals.
Marathoner Krista Parry of Park City Mountain Resort left us in her dust.
I am blaming The Cough.
The Big Screen That Wasn’t
Jamie’s brother Chris is visiting this week from Utah so we had him and their sister Lisa over for dinner. Jamie spent the afternoon smoking ribs and the plan was to watch Avatar on the 84″ HDTV.
Until the projector chose this weekend of all weekends to burn out.
And the bulbs can only be ordered online with a minimum 7 days for delivery.
The Memorial Day Blowout
Ever since Jamie’s parents moved away, we’ve felt a bit lost on holidays so we decided to invite some friends and a group of new couples from church over for a BBQ. Many are recently- or soon-to-be married college students who are here for the summer.
It confirmed something I’ve long suspected: we’re old.
And Bode is a woosy.
My dear boy had two meltdowns–one when he was left behind from the expedition to the pumpkin patch. During the second episode, I found him crumbled up in a heap on his bed. When I asked him what was wrong, he gasped, “Dat girl stole my food.”
Who, his sister Hadley? One of the college students?
I went outside for the confrontation and it was none other than my friend Sam’s daughter.
The one who is 9 months old.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 