When the boy becomes a Cub

Scouting is in my blood. For years, my dad was our ward’s Cub Scout leader and I saw him camp with those boys, teach them to start fires, tie knots and everything under the sun. I desperately wanted to be a Boy Scout but there was a problem: I was a girl. And so I signed up to be a Brownie, fully expecting to have have the some rough ‘n tumble adventures as those boys.

Oh, how wrong I was.  I don’t think we went on any backcountry activities–in fact, we never even left the school stage where it was held. All I can remember was being required to wear ridiculously short brown dresses as our uniform, singing cheesy songs and skipping around in a circle.

Suffice it to say, I was a Brownie dropout after one year.

Upon turning 8, Bode reached a rite of passage in the church: he became a Wolf. We have a great Scouting tradition in our ward–in fact, most of my friends’ sons have achieved their rank of Eagle and are some of the most stalwart young men I know. I made Bode pose on his first day, telling him we’d share that picture in his slide show when he became an Eagle Scout.

“But Mom, we don’t know if I’ll become an Eagle.”

If you know anything about Mr. Responsible/goal-setting Bode, you know that once he delves into Scouting that boy will fly.

Their first gathering was a fun pack meeting at the lake on July 31 but his first Den meeting with Sisters Mauger and Phillips (his den leaders) was the following Thursdays when they learned about personal hygiene and household safety. He came home with a checklist of precautions we should be taking, which he took very seriously and proceeded to lecture us in the areas where we were lacking.

Welcome to the next 8+ years of my life.

Most of his besties are in his den, which makes it extra fun but that’s not what it’s all about. As we were thumbing through his Wolf Handbook, we reviewed the 12 achievements he must pass to learn his Wolf badge and I became convinced that every young man should become involved in Scouting as they learn everything from Feats of Skill (physical) to Your Flag to Tools for Fixing and Building to Your Living World to Family Fun to Making Good Choices.

The Boy Scouts of America has gotten so much flack in the media that people have forgotten what it’s all about. As I was waiting in the car one day, I watched a normally rambunctious and wild group of Webelos Scouts (age 10) respectfully learn to raise, lower and fold The Flag.

I was teary-eyed over their reverence…something that is NOT being taught in today’s society.

And coming from a Canuck, that’s really something.

Now, if I can just rope someone into sewing on all his scouting badges….

 

Happy Back-to-School!

We had such a fabulous summer that I was dreading school’s schedules and homework. Then I hit the kids-constantly-being-home wall a few days before they went back so the timing was perfect.

Hadley’s school started a few days before Bode. It’s tough to believe that she is in fifth grade.

And that she had a growth spurt and is now a few inches taller than her friends who are all fashionistas. Her friend Fiona even had hashtag-shaped earrings.

Welcome to the tween years.

As for Bode, he is now in third grade.  The nice thing about starting on different days is they each get their own special breakfast and celebration. Hadley asked me to make gingerbread pancakes and Bode wanted doughnuts. Lots of doughnuts.

The best news? He was in school when the sugar crash inevitably came.

Good luck to both of their teachers this year.

Dreaming the Dream of Living Abroad

Jamie thinks I’m a lunatic. What else is new, right?

One of my lifelong dreams is to live abroad with my family. It stems from the fact that I lived in the same house my entire life and always dreamed of experiencing new cultures. And by experiencing, I don’t mean visiting, I mean living there.

Many years ago, I shared this dream with my Utah-born-and-raised missionary companion when we served together in Switzerland. She thought I was nuts, too.

And then she married a diplomat and has lived abroad with her family most of her married life.

I love almost everything about where we live in Colorado: Our home, family, schools, friends, church community and fabulous mountains. I don’t want to permanently leave and we have a truly blessed life so why rock the boat?

I guess I just want more for my kids. I want them to see beyond the confines of their social circles to live in a different culture and be exposed to a different way of life–the good and the bad.

There are many in the family-travel-blogging space who are permanent nomads, homeschooling their kids as they travel the world.  That is way too extreme for my blood but a semester- or year-long sabbatical would be food for my soul.

My fire was stoked when two fellow LDS bloggers uprooted their families: Design Mom spent a couple of years in France with her six kids and recently, Shawni from 71 Toes announced she was moving her family of five to China for a semester.

I am greeeeeen with envy.

Design Mom was able to swing it because she and her husband both work from home and like Jamie and me, all they needed was a Wi-Fi connection and could work anywhere in the world. In Shawni’s case, her husband has dealings with China and he will be working from their Shanghai office. In today’s world where so many are working remotely, it’s a wonder that more people aren’t uprooting themselves.

Another reason why I’m newly obsessed with investigating living-abroad options: my kids are perfect ages. Hadley is in fifth grade and Bode is in third. Next year would be the perfect time to go before she starts middle school and we become inundated with sports, camps, YW/YM, hormones and summer jobs.

On my wish list?  Europe (especially England, France, Switzerland or Scandinavian countries with access to international/English-speaking schools) or Hawaii (not exactly foreign but the culture is so gloriously rich).  Asia is an intimidating pipe dream. New Zealand/Australia would be amazing but their schools and holidays are on a completely different track.

So like the lunatic I am, I’ve been trolling all the house swap/house sabbatical/house sitting sites while also dreaming of house sitting for a senior LDS couple who lives abroad that have been called on a mission.

It will likely never happen, mostly because I have a husband who thinks this is just another one of my hairbrained ideas.

But a girl can dream, right?

St. Mary’s Glacier: On top of the world!

Hiking St. Mary’s Glacier has been a tradition in our family since I moved to Colorado almost 12 years ago. But this year was my favorite yet because we pushed the boundaries and went higher than ever before.

And because we didn’t run over Hadley’s foot with the car. Or have our friend’s daughter get sick and then their car wouldn’t start.

In June, we went on weekly hikes with our hiking group but July was a lot of boating and hanging out with grandparents, which means both my kids are out of shape. Though St. Mary’s Glacier is only about 1 mile to the base of the glacier, it is a steepish, rocky mile through a high subalpine forest and the 10,000+-feet elevation can sometimes be problematic. Bode got an altitude headache early on but recovered fairly quickly. His whining about his tired legs was another matter.

Hadley started out slower than usual, “wow, I really am out of shape!” but quickly regained her strength and was blazing up the trail as usual. She has been begging to climb to the top of the glacier for years (a slippery, steep, arduous climb) and we’ve been putting her off because we knew Bode wouldn’t make it. I figured this year would be no different so we took our usual pictures at the base of the glacier.

But then something amazing happened. Hadley and I started climbing on the glacier, followed by Jamie and a reluctant Bode. And they didn’t stop!

The base of the glacier is bottle-necked with crowds but as we hiked the masses cleared and we had that entire river of ice to ourselves.

Looking down.

It was awe-inspiring as we snaked our way up one of the largest moving objects on earth. Bode and I had a blast holding each other as we slid down, shouting “1, 2, SLIIIIDE!”

Hadley reached the top of the glacier first and upon finding a trail announced she was going to keep going. Climbing the glacier was one thing; continuing higher to the Continental Divide Trail was another. I instructed her to only go as far as the next ridge because there was no way we would convince Bode to go higher.

But that day, we went just high enough. How proud I am of my little clan.

Summer’s final days of freedom

There was boomerang throwing,
Grandparent hosting,


Chinese-food-induced-pants-busting, (yep, that’s his button)

Swim lesson-ing,

Trail building,

Nearly nekkid posing,

College bestie hosting,

Outdoor movies under the star-ing,

Final pool party-ing.
Not to mention failed photobombing.
Summer 2015, you’ve been one of our best ever!

My own private Idaho

Idaho isn’t exactly on most people’s bucket list for beauty.

Sure, there are pretty areas. Sandpoint and Coeur d’Alene in Northern Idaho stun. I went to Rick College (now BYU Idaho) and though Rexburg was nothing to write home about (read: not scenic), it is surrounded by beautiful forests and sand dunes. Sun Valley’s Sawtooths are world famous and my gosh, if I’m not dying to get back to resort town McCall after a quick drive-through several years ago.

But I’ve had an abiding opinion that southern Idaho is downright ugly and when you’re driving I-84, it really is. Until you venture off the freeway.

Boise

Following a loooong drive from British Columbia (complete with flying, suicidal cows), we spent the night in Boise with my former mission companion, Katie, and her darling girls. Katie and I have history–we strolled the streets of a charming Suisse village together and that bonds you for life.
She hasn’t changed a bit, unless you count her new sassy “I’m 40 and don’t care what people of think of me/love it or leave it” attitude. I loved it.

The kids had a blast at Ice Cream Allie (the coolest ice cream/candy shop ever) and playing in the Boise River,

and then Bode thought he’d died and gone to heaven when she took us to an ’80s arcade, Grinkers Grand Palace.

I was pretty stoked, too until I played one of my old favorites Q*bert and realized my gaming days are far, far behind me.

Twin Falls

Facebook can be a beautiful thing and one of the swell things about it is reconnecting with old friends. Jenny and I were roommates at Ricks my sophomore year and her freshman year. She was fiercely independent, a clean freak and there was no way she was marrying young like so many of those silly Ricks College girls.

Which is why I was delighted when she met her awesome husband Travis and was married within the year.

Now she has 9 wild and crazy kids so those days of OCD cleanliness are over. But one thing she is now is FUN and we had a blast exploring Twin Falls.

I was blown away by the beauty of Snake River Canyon, which resembled a tropical rain forest more than the barren wasteland you see on the freeway.

My kids have only kayaked once by themselves. Each had separate freakouts, worked through them and eventually beat us all back to the docks.

And then we hiked…lo, did we hike. I used to think we were outdoorsy but then her family reduced us to mere city folk as we scrambled over boulders, needed a machete to cut the trail and skirted around poison oak.

But who would have thought such gorgeousness was found here?! And yep, that’s blood streaming down Hadley’s leg but her little tumble didn’t slow her down one bit.

That night after dinner and swimming in the Snake River, I unleashed our Canadian candy on them.

I think the treats were a hit judging from the way her 10-year-old twin boys stuffed them in their pockets.

Early the next morning, Jenny and I sneaked out at dawn for another kayaking adventure. The Snake River was a ribbon of turquoise that cut through deep tropical green cliffs as waterfalls gushed around every bend–a dizzying array of diversity.

Beckoning waterfalls in the distance

Southern Idaho, I misjudged you. Let’s definitely be friends because I certainly have two wonderful ones who made me fall in love with you.

I left my heart (and a psycho dude) in San Francisco

When I heard BlogHer was in San Jose, my first thought was I’d slip away one evening and pop over to San Francisco, which is one of my favorite cities in the world. When I was 16 years old, my mom and her business partner Lin owned a gift/shop tea room. They thought it would be fun to bring Lin’s daughter and me along on one of their buying conventions. While they worked, Janelle and I played in San Francisco before we all explored the Napa Valley and Carmel. I fell in love love love with Northern California!

But here’s the deal: I was delusional thinking I could “pop over to San Francisco” and getting there is half the battle from San Jose. Fortunately, I had an entire day before the conference to explore.

I had a few options: 1) Take a cab, which would have cost a minor fortune for the 50-mile commute. 2) Rent a vehicle. Another pricy option and driving in a foreign-to-me city by myself is never a good thing. Plus, have you seen those hills?  3) Take the Caltrain. Though it had a lot of stops and took an hour and a half, it was by far the least expensive of my options.

The Caltrain station was about a mile from our hotel, which I figured was no problem. It was a lovely day and a chance to explore San Jose.

As it turns out there really wasn’t much in San Jose’s conference district. There were a couple of cool shopping/restaurant areas but the parks and bike trails I’d hoped to explore later were dirty, rundown and inner city. The day after I flew back to Utah, someone was murdered outside of the Tech Museum of Innovation and the Fairmont Hotel, right near my hotel.

Note to self: do not wander San Jose after dark.

I found the Caltrain fairly easily but it took me a while to figure out what train and stop I should take (heaven forbid they should actually have people working at the kiosks). I eventually figured it out and settled in for the 1.5-hour ride. I had forgotten how entertaining it is to people-watch in California. A loud woman sat across from me and proceeded to do her morning make-up routine. That was just swell until she whipped out her deodorant and other personal hygiene items.

It only got better. When I disembarked at the Caltrain’s final stop, I still had a 4-mile walk to Pier 39. No problem again! I would stroll along the Embarcadero, the eastern waterfront and roadway of the Port of San Francisco.

I was minding my own business basking in the views of the San Francisco Bay when a crazy black dude started following me. I tried to brush him off but he was persistent. He was about my size (read: short) and walking his bike with a broken chain. Though he babbled incoherently (I wasn’t sure if he was drunk or mentally ill), I figured I was in a public place and he seemed harmless enough so I let him walk with me, brushing off his advances.

Crazaaay dude behind the sculpture

He’d been trailing me for a good two miles when something triggered within him. He stopped and I kept walking. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw him walk over to the water’s edge, pick up his bike and fling it into the water.

You’d better believe I got outta there like a bat out of hell. No way I’d be his next chucking-into-the-bay victim.

I finally arrived at Pier 39 after about an hour. My knee was starting to feel sore after walking 5 miles but my gosh if that place wasn’t hopping. I know it’s blatantly touristy but I love exploring Fisherman’s Wharf!

Lunch on the Wharf

Token selfie

Sunbathing sea lions

I had planned to hop on a cable car to Union Square and then take a cab back to catch the Caltrain but there were lines everywhere and I knew I’d be waiting at least an hour. My knee was throbbing so I knew walking another 5 miles would render me incapacitated for the conference. I’d just talked to Jamie who told me to watch our $$ because he was waiting on some clients to pay so I didn’t want to spring for a cab.

Then, I had a stroke of genius: the Bay Area Bike Share! There are rental stations all over the city for a nominal charge so I hopped on one of these baby blues and cruised back to the Caltrain station. Why hadn’t I thought of this in the first place?

P.S. Don’t tell my mom I was biking San Francisco’s gnarly streets without a helmet.

Once back in San Jose, I grabbed another bike (my rental fee was good for 24 hours) and rode it back near my hotel. It was an exhausting, exhilarating day and though it made me miss traveling solo, I resolved I couldn’t wait to take my family back to San Francisco and experience it all.

Minus mentally-unstable-stalker types.

The mouseketeer of the Dark Ages

Today at Mile High Mamas, I’m doing a throwback to the Dark Ages. Long before there was technology, enlightenment and potty trained kids.

Consider yourself warned about these dark, dark times.

A potty training descent into hell and the realization I am not above bribing a mouse

Paying with Passion at BlogHer

Prior to embarking on our 3,000-mile road-trip, Skype contacted me and asked if I’d be at BlogHer ’14 in San Jose, CA. I haven’t been to BlogHer in years and told them so. They came back saying, “I don’t think you understand. We want you to go to BlogHer on behalf of Skype and become our Family Ambassador.”

However, there was another complication: BlogHer was near the end of our huge trip and the kids and I were supposed to spend that week with Jamie’s family in Utah. After some agonizing–and a very generous mother-in-law who agreed to watch the kids for four days–I flew out to California. Prior to doing so, I had a blast interviewing a bunch of BlogHer panelists via Skype, one of whom was Elise Bauer, founder one of my favorite food blogs Simply Recipes.

Skype was a sponsor of BlogHer and was THE place to hang out with a cool Airstream Lounge where attendees stopped by to make “Passion Pledges” in exchange for some pretty cool swag. It was a campaign that resonate with me and that’s why I volunteered to sign on. We all have a passion for something, whether it’s travel, spending more time with family, or just trying something completely new. Skype’s campaign was to not only encourage people to pledge their passion and motivate them to follow through, but also to prompt them to share their pledges online to inspire friends and family.

The contest isn’t limited to just BlogHer attendees. Just make a pledge about how you are going to live your life with more passion, share it on Twitter or Instagram using the #PayWithPassion hashtag through Aug. 31, 2014 and you’re entered to win some awesome prizes including a Surface Pro 3 tablet.

Awesome, right?

And BlogHer was great. Though it was still overwhelming, I had a really great time attending the sessions, going to the parties and hanging out at Skype’s airstream talking Passions with the other attendees.

The Aussies always know how to party

Over these coming months, I’ll be doing some fun campaigns with Skype as a part of their Moment Makers ambassador program. Sure, Skype is awesome for keeping in touch with families and friends but I love that they’re taking this to the next level. They’re looking for people who love to share their passions over Skype—from trading fashion tips with friends to previewing that dance recital with cousins to bedtime stories with grandma.

There are three ways to get involved: apply to become a Star Moment Maker (someone who works with Skype to showcase their talents to the world), upload a moment you’ve made with Skype, or sign up for their newsletter.

Stay tuned for my family’s passion moments over these next months.

And yes, at least one of them will assuredly involve pumpkins.

 

 

When cows fly

When you embark upon a 3,000-mile road-trip, you expect the unexpected. Except for when the unexpected turns really unexpected.

Following our week-long family reunion in Vernon, B.C., the kids and I dropped Jamie off at the Kelowna airport to fly back to Denver while we continued on our vacation. We had an 11-hour drive to Boise, Idaho where we stayed with my former LDS mission companion, Katie. This was to be the longest drive yet. Many parts of Washington are gorgeous; central Washington and Northern Oregon are not.  A stretch on Highway 17 after Dry Falls State Park was particularly tedious and I couldn’t wait to race through…until we ran into a huge traffic jam. Cars were making U-turns and a few people informed us there was some kind of rock slide that resulted in the closure of the small highway.

My phone’s GPS didn’t work (remember, we were in the middle of nowhere?) so I pulled off the side of the road to ask the State Trooper when they planned to reopen.

“No idea,” he replied.

“No idea? I thought there was a rock slide and I see crews out there working.”

“It’s not just a rock slide. There is a huge wildfire on top of those cliffs. Cows are getting backed up on the edge and are either jumping or falling off. The falling rocks you see are when they hit the side of the mountain.”

I stared at him in disbelief. Could this really be happening–jumping cows? As I stood there for a few moments, I saw it: a cow doing several backflips in the air.

I felt physically ill. Like everyone, I’ve seen my share of dead animals and road kill but have never actually seen anything die. It gave me a small glimpse at how horrifying 9/11 must have been to see people jumping from the buildings.

I walked back to the car, unsure how to deliver the news to Hadley and Bode. I gave it to them straight.  They were as incredulous as me but morbidly fascinated and started peppering me with a gazillion questions.

We ended up doing a huge detour on a back road, got lost for a time and eventually made our way back on another freeway, adding an extra 1.5 hours to an already long day.

A friend later sent me a legitimate road sign of exactly what we had witnessed.

Who knew suicidal cows was a thing?

For lunch, we opted for Subway instead of hamburgers.

It was our way of honoring the poor, ground beef.