Southwest Florida – World’s Best Beaches, More Canals Than Venice & Seashells Galore

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure this is the way,” my kayaking guide Jon Black of Crazy Lure Bait & Tackle Shop called back to me.

I sluiced through Southwest Florida’s cobalt-blue waters with my paddle and glanced around at the thick mangroves, their limbs gnarled and wild like the arms of a monster in a nightmare. The forest was strangely silent.  The previous day’s downpour had sent the birds into retreat mode and we felt alone.

I wasn’t worried; being lost is nothing new in my world. However, having a capable guide to help me find my way out was. We were winding through Cape Coral, Florida’s 400-mile network of canals (more than even Venice) and I was in my element as bottleneck dolphins and manatees skirted around us.

Prior to my trip, I wasn’t a fan of Florida. I had only visited its busiest cities and had equated the state with heat, humidity, retirees, overcrowded beaches and partying, never dreaming of the natural grandeur of Southwest Florida.

When it Rains, It Pours

Everything happens for a reason and the previous day’s downpour is among them. I was staying at the new Westin Cape Coral Resort at Marina Village, a luxurious new 236-room retreat perched overlooking the massive Caloosahatatchee River, waterways and the Gulf of Mexico

Map of Southwestern Florida's islandsThe rain put a literal damper on my plans to grab one of the hotel’s complimentary bikes and tour the Tom Allen Memorial Butterfly House at nearby Rotary Park. Plan B was to take the free 45-minute water taxi to Fort Myers Beach—an unspoiled sugar-hued beach oozing with tourist shops, tiki bars and fun—but that was canceled.

A hotel worker suggested we check-out the Miromar or Tanger Outlets (a good rainy-day activity) but I had a better one: “Let’s go to Sanibel and Captiva Islands.” The day prior, a friend had posted some pictures on Facebook and I was captiva-ted.

The Real Beaches of Lee County

An hour later, I met my guide Jon Black and we drove through the deluge, over the three-mile Sanibel Causeway and landed smack dab in the middle of paradise (or as Frommer’s travel guide quantified it: The No. 1 travel destination in the world).

Sanibel and Captiva Islands are a dream for wildlife and shell-lovers with 15 miles of unspoiled beaches, 25 miles of bike paths, 50 types of fish, 230 types of birds, 400 types of shells, no stop lights, a ban on fast-food chains and a law that dictates “no buildings taller than the tallest palm tree.”

Sanibel Lighthouse, Credit: TripAdvisor

Sanibel Lighthouse, Credit: TripAdvisor

During the height of tourist season (winter and summer), traffic on these small islands can be beastly but early-May’s shoulder season plus a rainy day equaled My Own Private Florida.

Jon started our tour at Lighthouse Park on the eastern tip of Sanibel where a functioning 1884 light tower stands sentry over Bahamas-blue waters and a fishing pier. A boardwalk nature trail winds through native wetlands and past mounds of shells from the Calusa Indians’ discarded fish bones, pieces of domestic tools and pottery, weapons and jewelry.

A Seashell Wonderland

We drove past multi-million dollar homes, eagle nests, quaint shops and porch cafes but we didn’t linger long. “There will be a break in the clouds,” Jon predicted. “If we hit it just right, we’ll be at the beach when the rain stops. The best time to go shelling is after a storm.”

World's Best Beaches, More Canals Than Venice, Seashells Galore in Southwest Florida

Seashells galore

Just as we pulled up to our destination–a short bridge that links Sanibel Island to Captiva Island over Blind Pass—the rain ceased. I suspected Jon was really Zeus, the Greek God who ruled over the sky, weather, thunder and law or maybe Moses because those clouds parted like the Red Sea.

Sanibel and Captiva Islands are consistently ranked the top shelling beaches in the nation due in part to the large plateau that extends out into the Gulf of Mexico for miles and acts like a shelf for seas shells to gather.

The moment my feet hit the sand I was a kid in a candy store, gathering up large piles of shells that formed a thick ribbon along the shore. I collected shell after shell, puzzled over the vast variety and vowed to visit the nearby Bailey-Matthews Shell Museum. This large natural history museum features exhibits of shells from around the world (one-third native to the area) and has a hands-on learning lab for kids.

A couple of the shells I grabbed were moderately big but Zeus wasn’t finished with his acumen. “Go in the water where the surf breaks. The big conch shells get stuck there.”

I waded knee-deep into the water, launching myself in the air whenever a wave rolled in. I hesitantly bent down (locals even have a name for this shelling stance: the “Sanibel Stoop”), and as I saw a white cap barreling toward me, I blindly reached out. I squealed with disbelief and glee—I had hit the shell jackpot and uncovered hundreds of them in a dizzying array of diversity.

The beauty of Sanibel and Captiva Islands

I could have stayed on that beach forever. The breeze from the Gulf was sultry and heavy-laden with salt. A great blue heron stalked me, no doubt unimpressed by my haul that was lacking in fish. Nature’s miracles were on display and it was one of the most surreal moments of my life.

The next day when I was flying home, I sat next to a Fort Myers cardiologist whose family has lived in the area for 120 years. Southwest Florida is world-renowned for its fishing and he divulged he was recently on his boat with a friend when he had the epiphany, “I can’t believe I actually live in this amazing place.”

Neither can I.

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Other Family Activities

J.N. "Ding" Darling National Wildlife RefugeJ.N. “Ding” Darling National Wildlife Refuge is a 7,608-acre primordial wetland on Sanibel Island that is brimming with 35 species of mammals, 102 species of fish, exotic birds and alligators. A network of trails ranging from ¼- to 4 miles-long are ideal for trekking or biking. Wildlife Drive provides a drivable safari through one of the largest mangrove wildernesses in the country. Kids will love the education center and scanning the interpretive signs’ QR codes to learn more. The driving trail is closed on Fridays but will be undergoing some construction projects Summer 2013 so check the website for updates.

Edison and Ford Winter EstatesEdison and Ford Winter Estates—Thomas Edison and Henry Ford, two of the most prolific geniuses of their time, both spent their winters in Fort Meyers on a 13-acre estate bordering the river. This historic site offers more than just a look at their winter homes, museum, lush grounds and laboratory but an appreciation for how they forever changed the landscape of the automobile industry, movies and film, lighting and electricity and sound and communications. Kids will enjoy the Young Inventors educational programs, where many a burgeoning scientific genius is borne.

Matlacha and Pine IslandMatlacha and Pine Island— Pine Island is the largest island (18 miles long, two miles wide) off Florida’s Southwestern Gulf Coast. It is ensconced by mangroves and aquatic preserves. Not-to-be missed are Matlacha’s funky fishing and artist colonies that prove colored paint goes a long way. Stop by eccentric Southwest Florida icon Leoma Lovegrove’s gallery, which will make you swear you’ve been dropped into a Dr. Seuss book of unbridled color and imagination. Tour the botanical gardens. Then cool down on ice cream served in a coconut. Paint your very own coconut postcard while overlooking the canal that leads to Matlacha Pass (some people even visit the gallery by boat). Keep on living your vacation when your coconut arrives in your mailbox a week later.

Bubble Room restaurantBubble Room–When I asked the staff at the Westin Cape Coral where to eat on Captiva Island, the enthusiastic response was “The Bubble Room!” This happiness-inducing eatery is whimsical, quirky fun and a beloved local tradition. With a creed, “It’s always Christmas at the Bubble Room” the hodgepodge of décor includes Santas, old-style Hollywood glamour, trains, and toys. Wacky “Bubble Scout” wait staff are dressed in girl and boy scout uniforms. The food is great, too. Portions sizes are large. Order their infamous red velvet cake and try not to be bitter when you learn about it later.

Thanks for the Westin Cape Coral at Marina Village for hosting me! Be sure to check-out my hotel review about the view that blew my mind.


Introducing the newest member of our family

It’s a bit belated but I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of our family: our new deck! We’ve been in our house for almost 10 years and have been using a temporary (read: crappy) paver-stone deck with a patio set I bought at a garage sale years ago.

Those days are no  more! I worked my butt off on a big project all winter and with those funds, we hired someone to build a nice little refuge in our backyard. We still need to stain the pillar and pergola and put up the shade cloth but you get the idea. Our finishing touches were writing our individual prayers on Prayer Flags and stringing them across the entrance.

Yes I’m a little bit obsessed with Nepal. Though reluctant at first, Jamie was all-in when we wrote a “pumpkin” prayer for him.

To christen our deck, we hosted a neighborhood progressive dinner a few weeks ago. And then had a big group of friends over for Family Home Evening last week. I had a gift card to try out Chipotle’s new catering and haven’t had the chance to use it. A non-occasion turned out to be the perfect occasion!But most importantly, what does Fat Kitty think of the new deck? He had a rocky introduction to it a few months ago when the builder had it framed. Jamie painted it with some water-resistant stain and Hadley decided to take Fat Kitty in the backyard. Within minutes, The Fat One jumped onto the wet paint. It wasn’t bad enough that it got all over his feet but his fat gut sags so much he got the paint all over his belly, too.

He was greatly displeased when we had to scrub him down in the bath.

Bathing beauty

But he’s gotten over it.

 

Happy 9th Birthday to My Hurricane!

Dearest Hadley,

I can’t believe you’re nine years old today! Your birth story was forever immortalized in the Denver Post for Mother’s Day and why shouldn’t it be? You made one memorable entrance into this world and continue to leave your mark on it.

Eight was kind to you. Not only did you get baptized last summer surrounded by the people you love but you started a new charter school that you enjoy. Your bestie is Grace and two boys have had crushes on you–Ethan and Ryan (this is happening already?!)

Between a three-day camping trip to Mesa Verde, your recent one to a farm or going with your class to find worms in the creek last Wednesday, the more experiential the better in your world. You were nowhere to be found when I came to retrieve you at school last week and discovered you lost in the greenhouse tending to the plants in a state of bemused joy. This is becoming one of your passions and you have started your own soiling projects. You’re constantly barking orders at me to tend your plants while you’re in school–Water Them! Take Them Indoors! Put them under the grow lights after 2 hours!

It’s like living with your father. #HeavenHelpMe

I fret more than I should about you finding your place. While your friends’ lives are full of sports and dance, you show no interest in these traditional pursuits and prefer your schedule to remain as unfettered as possible. Your gauge of a good day is having time to create or imaginative play.  You love anything artistic and spend hours in your crafting area Grandma Johnson helped create for your eight birthday. You enjoy knitting at school, art and will learn how to sew this summer. You continue to enjoy individual sports like swimming, hiking, skiing (moguls already!) and tennis and I’m fine with that; in fact, I kinda cringe being dragged to team practices and games so I need to remember you are choosing a different path and passions.

Mud Pits, Fish Creek Provincial Park, Canada

Last fall, you made your television debut on a 9News back-to-school fashion show. You started to get sick the night prior and I stressed about finding a replacement for you but you assured me you were fine. The next morning, I went to the studio early so your dad took you and your brother. Upon arriving at the 9News parking lot you got out of the car, threw up and made a pledge with your dad not to tell me about it until after the segment (where you performed like a pro). That, my dear, is what I call leaving a mark on show business (a very large one).

You recently asked me about the truth of Santa and took the news in stride. It makes me kind of sad you’re growing up. Nine years old is half-way to adulthood and there is so much more than I want to do with you and show you. Because you’re such an independent soul, I know that once you’re given wings, you will fly far from here. You are doing your first week-long overnight camp at YMCA of the Rockies this summer and when I was lamenting that you might get homesick, you consoled me, “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll forget about you.” Some consolation!

For my birthday, we took a mother-daughter trip to Copper Mountain. We had the most delicious berry waffles for breakfast, snowshoed around Lake Dillon and almost lost our breakfast on Frisco Adventure Park’s crazy-steep tubing hill. We also skied together and you impressed me by brazenly tackling the moguls. I love that you are not only adventurous but have a deep curiosity and appreciation to connect with nature. Just not too close. Remember when you lost your balance and slid slowly backwards into a tree in front of the Ski Patrol? Oh, and I won’t mention when we were racing down the mountain a few minutes later and you almost ran into that Emergency Phone. But, let’s face it, if you’re gonna crash, those are the safest ways to do it.

Snowshoeing in Frisco

You are wrapping up your first year of piano and violin. While I wouldn’t say you have any particular passion for them (remember faking your Christmas violin performance?), you are playing well. This year, you and your brother will each be growing your own pumpkin and you know far more than any kid should about organic gardening but you enjoy it. You were proud to have your dad come speak to your class about growing giant pumpkins but let’s both breathe a little sigh of relief he didn’t wear his crazy pumpkin hat.

I’ve never heard you utter “I’m bored” and your biggest complaint is you don’t have enough time to play wherever or whatever you’re doing. You are passionate about travel and I can always count on you to help plot our next trip. You are thrilled to be going to The Broadmoor for your ninth birthday and who wouldn’t be with horseback riding, swimming, bowling, 5-star dining and paddleboat races, not to mention some of the most luxurious accommodations in the whole world?  If your future husband is reading this, I apologize now for setting the bar very, very high. I should know, Hadley. Your father has become rather unbearable with his opulent demands. :-)


Fat Kitty remains your favorite thing in the world and I often vacillate about what occupation you’ll chose someday. Sometimes I’m sure you’ll work with animals, other days in the arts or, knowing you, you will surprise us and choose something unexpected. Whatever it is, I hope it fills you with the same joy I’ve had of learning to balance motherhood, travel and writing.

You are so different than me and I learn from you every single day. Sometimes it’s not easy being your mom and I’m sure you often think it’s not easy having me as your mom. You internalize so much that I hope, as you wage the battle of your adolescence, you realize it’s OK to put yourself out there. You have a few really good friends but are not inclined to follow the crowd if it’s not to your liking. You are strong, beautiful, a spiritual wonder and will leave a mark on this world.

Let’s just hope it’s not on anymore trees or on the 9News parking lot.

I love you,
“Moms”
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P.S. For a stroll down memory lane, read letters for your 8th birthday, 7th, 6th, 5th, 4th, 3rd, and 2nd.

Your juicing recipes needed, PRONTO

For Mother’s Day, Jamie bought me a juicing machine and I was thrilled because I have wanted one for a while. Growing up, my parents had a juicer and though I adored fresh-squeezed oranges, they also made evil concoctions like carrot juice. Then there was the mushy hot oatmeal that they swore I’d love someday.

Guess what: I won’t touch it with a 100-foot pole.

Jamie has taken on the role as Master Juicer and has been trying out a number of healthy combinations, most of which have been edible (note: I did not say good; we’re going for health here). But yesterday, he took it too far. Here’s my clue regarding the main ingredient in this gem.Jamie: “It may make  you pee red. And it was inspired by Dwight Schrute.”

My response to this one: MAYDAY!!!!!!!!!

Life in Pictures: Field Trips and Those Irate Pigs

My next two weeks are too frenzied to detail so I won’t even try. Even our last day of school on May 30 won’t be the end of it as our summer travel and play season ramps up. No complaints here. What I will complain about it finally recovering from a cold and having a nasty cough that keeps me up most nights.

Yep, Fat Kitty and Jamie have still abandoned me.

Field Trip

We’ve been cramming it all in, including Bode’s class field trip to the Denver Aquarium. I was put in charge of a group of four kids that included a sweet but mentally unstable girl. Think I’m lying? Their last field trip, the teacher had her husband be solely in charge of her. But he didn’t have my secret weapon: Bode. He ensured she stayed on task in his OCD yet kind way and we all had a grand old time.

With bestie Brody

I didn’t lose even one kid so deemed it a success.

Field Day

Then there was Bode’s field day. From obstacle courses to hula-hooping to long-jumping, it’s one of the highlights of the year.

Long jump

A new addition this year was  the game “Rat Tag” (bottom top right) where kids put a rope in the back of their shorts and tried to grab each others’ tails.

First grade field day

It was rather unsettling when I realized I was yelling at Bode to get some “tail” from the girls.

Animal Project

First graders in Colorado need to do a big research project on an animal and Bode chose a sloth. This month-long ordeal included a lot of research, whipping up his first PowerPoint presentation and he then had to do an oral presentation to the class based on his diorama or poster.

I was put in charge of helping him and confirmed that he has inherited my lack of artistic ability. After a few frustrated meltdowns (from us both) I think we did pretty good job.

Though I won’t mention the mammoth bone structure our resident artists Hadley and Jamie constructed last month that looked like it was right out of the Ice Age. #overachievers

Farm Girl

Hadley had a three-day field trip to a farm a couple of weeks ago. I went back and forth on volunteering, ultimately bowing out because I planned a garage sale with my neighbor. It’s a good thing, too because that’s when I got sick and it rained for most of the three days. You know, in Colorado. Where is almost never rains.

I wish I’d snapped a picture of her when she returned home after three days of camping in the muck and rain. Let’s just say I’ve never smelled anything quite like it (and hope to never again).

Activity Day Girl

She and I also had a mother-daughter night out with the Activity Girl days at church. This group of 8-11-year-old girls meet together a couple of times a month for activities that range from sporting events to service projects to crafts. They planned a fun night of dinner with fun games from Minute to Win It.Because nothing says mother-daughter bonding like having a nylon on your head as you pretend to be an elephant knocking ball. #YouHadToBeThere

Angry Piggies

Bode wrapped his sixth soccer season with his buddies. He scored regularly and even had four goals in one game. Their team name has evolved from the Lava Bullets to this season’s gem: “The Angry Piggies.” Don’t knock it. They had they winningest season ever.

Here’s to surviving the final two weeks of school!

The importance of motherhood and teaching souls to fly

I have tried to savor and make the most of every stage of my children’s lives but lately, I feel like I have been holding on just a little bit tighter. For some reason, Hadley’s ninth birthday this week has hit me harder than the others, probably because it’s half-way to 18. She’s such an independent soul that I have no doubt when given her adult wings, she will fly away just as I did.

Of course, that’s what every parent wants but, though I’ll be her mom forever, it has made me sad to think that this stage is half-over. Pretty soon, she’ll be in the harder-to-reach teenage years and we will have to trust she will continue to build upon the foundation we’ve given her. And I can’t help but pray it will be enough.

On Friday, we got a taste of summer by delving into our favorite activities in Denver: Biked along the Platte River. Watched the tubers and kayakers at Confluence Park. Devoured Little Man Ice Cream cones. Shopped and played at our favorite store, R.E.I.

I loved it all and tried to live in the moment but fought away feelings of sadness to think that very soon, they will prefer the company of their friends to dear ol’ mom and dad on the weekends. It’s all a part of growing up.

I have been reflecting a lot about the choices I’ve made since becoming a mom. A good friend of mine is a shining star and recently received a huge promotion to an executive-level position at a major corporation. She is a great mom to beautiful children and I’m sure struggles to juggle the long hours and extensive travel.  That is the path she has chosen and she is surrounded by a loving family who support her so she can balance it all.

Mine is a much different path, one in which I have stayed home with my children, put my career on the back-burner but have been fortunate enough to keep my foot in the door. I sometimes wonder where I’d be now if I had chosen to work full-time. But then I’m just grateful for the privilege it has been to stay home and for a husband who works hard to support us so that I could go to all those weekly story times. Never miss a field trip, class party or field day. Dream up a new adventure every day as we tried to fight winter’s doldrums. I have to believe that, though my kids don’t remember many of them, that all my missteps and successes have helped form the blueprint of their lives.

I recently fell in love with an essay by Lia Collins from a new book called Choosing Motherhood: Stories of Successful Women Who Put Family First. The story starts with Lia sharing a question her younger, single sister asked her after spending five weeks with Lia’s young family in Germany. She had seen the good times…and the tough ones and finally blurted out, “why would anyone want to be a mom?”

When I worked with the young women at church for a number of years, they would frequently share how their peers would make fun of their desire to become mothers someday. That, with all the career choices out there, this was only an afterthought, a backup plan. While I certainly don’t discount getting a good education and having a career (I have many wonderful mom friends who are doctors and lawyers), somehow our society has devalued the role not just of the family but of the essential, life-saving work of mothers.

As Lia struggled for an answer that cut through the daily chaos to the deeper, abiding joy that only mothers can understand, she found it months later. Her husband brought home a book from the library and she was awed when she saw the painting on the cover, “Teach these souls to fly” by William Blake.

I will include a few of my favorite excerpts.
“The beige muscles swells across the mother’s back inspired my admiration at first. A woman with such strength could perform any labor she chose. Yet the curve of her shoulder introduced a steady softening that ended in a touch on the child’s elbow. I saw the same force and persuasion in the look she gave the child. This mother seemed in the same instant both to command and to invite, to compel and to persuade.

“I found the odd trajectory of the mother’s flight as intriguing as the paradox of her person. She was definitely flying–that was clear by the way her robes hugged her body before swirling away. But her torso twisted back toward her child.

“An outsider like my sister might have seen in this mother of how children hamper and restrain. What heights could such a woman not have attained, had she been free to pursue the course she had started?

“…The child in the painting definitely didn’t know. He stared blankly toward me, not his mother. His chubby toddler arms barely reached past his head, and his feet rose behind him like two lazy balloons. While his mother seemed wholly devoted to some noble end, the child appeared merely present. This child flew only because his mother pulled him, but like most children, he seemed oblivious to what his mother did for him.

“…It would be impossible to convey to my sister all the flying I did as a mother. I could mention that I taught my daughter to read, but my sister wouldn’t know how it made my own soul soar to see the wonder on my daughter’s face when she read her first book. My sister could marvel to hear my three-year-old identify a particular waltz on the radio, but she couldn’t experience the earlier lift of listening to Strauss for hours with my little one. Until she turned back to teach a child she loved to fly, my sister couldn’t know the profound joy I felt to hear my children lovingly and patiently teaching one another.

“…The interesting thing about this painting was that it wasn’t particularly beautiful or technically impressive. Still, the longer I looked at it, though, the more the mother in me responded to it. As I watched the young child in the painting, I felt with a sense of urgency that he had entered a fallen world and, but for the guiding hand of his mother, he would sink into the blacks and reds toward the bottom of the painting. The protective shield of light and light and truth that his mother provided for him–a safe haven from the world around him–relieved me. I felt a kinship with her efforts to guide her child into the blue expanses that this world also extends.

“…I finally laid the book down with a feeling of reverent awe. “Who wouldn’t want to be a mom?” I wondered. A career in motherhood has its element of drudgery, but so did any other. What other career could claim as its end-product the elevation of a human soul? Not just the enlightening of a mind or the development of a body, but the improvement of every aspect of a vibrant child of God? I, at least, want to be a mother because I believed, with President Harold B. Lee, that the most important work I would ever do would be within the walls of my own home. I chose to be a mother because I wanted to teach souls to fly.”

-Lia Collings

Westin Cape Coral Resort at Marina Village – Unspoiled Florida Paradise

I was not a big fan of Florida. Sure, I had been through Fort Lauderdale, Orlando and Miami but apart from Disney World, Southwest Florida had only served as a stopover for cruises and Caribbean vacations.

When I was invited to give a review of Westin Cape Coral Resort at Marina Village, I admittedly wasn’t interested in yet another beach hotel. But this 263-room resort is so much more—it is perched overlooking the Caloosahatchee River, Gulf of Mexico and Tarpon Point Marina with 400 miles of canals, more than any other city in the world.

Take that, Venice.

CLICK TO READ ON ABOUT MY ADVENTURES AND ABOUT THE ROOM WITH A VIEW THAT LITERALLY BLEW ME AWAY!

Jamie’s sigh of relief

For the past few years, Jamie has taken Bode on our church’s father-son camp-out with the Scouts. On Bode’s first adventure, he’d had a big day: his preschool class went to a play at Heritage Square, followed by a fun night with the Scouts of Capture the Flag, roasting marshmallows and hot dogs and basic revelries any boy would love.

As he and Jamie contentedly nestled in their sleeping bags under a blanket of stars, Bode queried:

“Do you know what’s better than camping, Daddy?”

“What, Bode?”

“Musicals.”

It has taken Jamie a few years to recover from that one but I’m sure he was very pleased when I asked Bode his favorite part about going camping at Bear Creek Lake State Park last weekend and he replied, “Killing fire ants.”

My, what a difference a few years makes.

Mother’s Day: Something to Smile About

Mother’s Day can be joyful but also full of hurt and despair. I am surrounded by women who are tremendous mothers and examples to me. I also know several who have yet to become mothers–some struggle with infertility, others chose not to have kids, a handful have lost their mothers or have a bad relationship with them and many more want to settle down but haven’t found Mr. Right.

My own mom never liked Mother’s Day so I’ve always treaded softly around the subject. This morning, I posted a picture on Facebook of Bode reading a book he wrote to me with this message:

Happy Mother’s Day to all the wonderful women who mother, even if they are not moms.

I had been up most of the night with an unrelenting cough, causing Jamie and Fat Kitty to leave me alone in my misery so they could get some sleep (and I didn’t blame them a bit). Early the next morning, I saw three faces peek through my bedroom door and when they realized I was awake, burst in with my favorite breakfast: fresh mangoes, raspberries and strawberries with yogurt.

They showered me with homemade gifts–Bode a beautiful picture, Hadley a fun notebook she had made at church and Jamie spoiled me with a new juicer (send me your favorite recipes), two four-hour deep house cleaning Groupon cards (HALLELUJAH!) and he reluctantly wore his Canadian maple leaf tie in my honor.Our ward’s tradition at church on Mother’s Day is to have pie at the end of our meetings. One year, some silly man got it into his head the women didn’t like the pie so changed it up. I won’t go into the  ugly details of the Mom Revolution (think: World Ward III) but I was very happy to see pie back on the agenda the following year.

And this welcome addition: Jamie prepared a smoked beef tenderloin, thyme-rosemary fingerling potatoes, garlic mushrooms and poppy-seed coleslaw.

My vote is he’s on dinner duty from now on.

Our little family likes to keep Mother’s Day low-key. A couple of years ago, we went for a walk around gorgeous Evergreen Lake where we love to skate in the wintertime. It was so memorable I declared it our new tradition because there are just so many things to smile about like this: Not to mention this.

And this.But don’t tell that to Hadley. She thinks I have a camera constantly in her face and she would be correct. Sorry, dearie but such is fate of the iPhone generation of parents who always have their camera phone with them. Doesn’t she just looked thrilled to be in this picture?

May2013

Jamie wasn’t much better. The first shot I took, he was mimicking Hadley by scowling at the camera.
I obviously made him retake the picture.

For this one, I told Hadley we weren’t moving until she would smile. Stubborn Miss took a while (so long poor Bode declared he was going to start crying because he had been smiling forever).

It’s my Mother’s Day and I’ll MAKE YOU SMILE IF I WANT TO.

But don’t be mislead. She was smiling 99.9 percent  of the time as we took that beautiful stroll around the lake. I even caught this candid shot of her (gasp) smiling.

Just don’t let her know I’m onto her.

Happy Mother’s Day!!!

How NOT to honor the mother of your children on Mother’s Day

The Husband: “What tie should I wear?”

Me: “The maple leaf one to honor your Canadian wife on Mother’s Day.”

Him: “It’s broken.”