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.
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. 