A Utah Family Travel Writer's Adventures with Altitude
There was an immeasurable amount of screaming when Bode scored the first goal of our very first game of the season. 
There was an equal amount of screaming at the lunatic mother who ran out on the field to snap this commemorative picture.
Killjoys.
As I posted on Monday, Haddie recently competed in a Destination Imagination tournament. Two days before the competition, the DI groups at her school convened to perform for each other. Parents were invited but Hadley told me to hold off until the tournament because she wanted to fine-tune her acting.
And so the parental rejection begins.
When I picked her up from the rehearsal, I noticed that many of her peers had over-the-top costumes whereas Haddie’s monarch butterfly was straightforward with simple black wings. DI is completely kid-driven and parents are not supposed to be involved but the competitive side of me kicked in. Knowing Haddie had a central role in her skit, I wanted her to shine so posted this picture on Facebook asking for advice.
The overriding consensus? Bling the wings. I’m not exactly a bling kinda gal so I turned to my neighbor Meredith, whom I call the craft goddess. Not only is she extraordinarily talented in all things crafty and creative but she has an entire room that is wall-to-wall with thousands of craft supplies. Hadley thought she’d died and gone to heaven.
I was in crafting hell.
However, it was all worth it. Meredith had some fabulous advice and more glitter glue than Michaels. Cute bows down the spine and on her dress completed the outfit and Haddie was thrilled.
With all the effort that was put into the wings, I suggested to Haddie that she should be a monarch butterfly for Halloween as well.
“I was actually thinking I want to go a ghost,” she said.
Now, that’s a costume I can get behind.
Yesterday, I wrote about the skit Hadley performed for Destination ImagiNation “Big Bug’s Bad Day.”
Now, I’m here to tell you about Fat Kitty’s Bad Day.
Everyone worships that big, lovable, gentle slug. As much as the dude loves to cuddle, he adores being in the backyard even more. The house rules (that I instituted) are that someone needs to be back there monitoring him at all times.
Yesterday, I broke my own rule. He was meowing incessantly to go outside and Bode was doing the same for some lunch. I thought I solved both of the problems: I let Remy go outside with the mental note to keep an eye on him while I prepared Bode’s lunch.
And then I forgot.
A half-hour later, Bode just happened to be looking out the window and saw Fat Kitty (somehow) jump onto our generator and hop over to the other side of the fence. I raced out there like a banshee, screaming at him to come back. Frightened, he gazed up at me and tried to jump back up to our side but his claw-less paws slid down the fence.
Between our property and the hobby farm behind us is an easement that snakes through the area. It is overgrown with weeds and trees, rendering it nearly impossible to navigate. I recruited a couple of guys working at our neighbor’s to corral him but extremely stranger-shy, he took off. By the time Jamie was able to help, traumatized Remy high-tailed it through a hole in our neighbors Steve and Angella’s fence and he was M.I.A. the rest of the afternoon.
The neighborhood was canvased, tears were shed, prayers were uttered and there was a pending doom about breaking the news to Hadley. An overreaction? Not really. With a coyote den in the nearby Open Space and a Rottweiler for a neighbor, outdoor cats don’t survive in our neighborhood. A fat, claw-less cat would make for a tasty meal.
OK, meals.
Then came the golden phone call from Steve: He had spotted Fat Kitty trying to hop his fence. When Steve tried to approach him, he ducked under the deck into an inaccessible cement hideout.
That is when the circus began. Haddie, Bode, his buddy Noah, Jamie and I tore down the street to confront our now-terrified cat cowered down in the hole. For a half-hour, we begged, bribed him with treats and tried to poke him with a long stick. Nothing worked. I attempted to offer Steve’s 1-year-old Dylan up as sacrifice to go in after him. Though Dylan was willing, mom Angella wasn’t.
Gotta love overprotective parents.
But in the end, it was Angella who came through when she had the idea to spray him out with water (which he absolutely abhors). We positioned ourselves strategically around the porch as five preschoolers blocked the brunt of the yard (a strategic move on my part because if there’s anything Remy hates worse than water, it’s mauling toddlers.)
Steve set up the hose….
…and Jamie started spraying. I’m told that Remy’s initial reaction was shock but then he gave Haddie and Jamie the look: “Has it really come to this?”
It was the same look my mother gave me the entire duration of my teen-age years.
Fat Kitty was covered in dirt and the water formed a mucky coat. He streaked outta there and tried to hop the fence before I mud wrestled him to the ground. His paw was bloody and he voiced the Meow of Death, which was duplicated when I unceremoniously bathed him.
After recovering from the trauma of a *real* bath (he spent about three hours licking himself), he camped out by the back door. In a decidedly Huckleberry Finn move, he longingly gazed outside, no doubt reminiscing about his big escape to the Last Frontier where, if only for a short time, he was free from civilization’s traps.
Too bad he didn’t get farther than three houses away.
Last weekend, my first grader Hadley competed for the first time in Jefferson County Schools Destination ImagiNation Regional Tournament at Alameda High School.
Not familiar with Destination ImagiNation (DI)? Join the club.
Actually, “club” may not be the correct word for this international organization that caterers to kindergarten through university students. The concept is simple: teach life skills and expand imaginations through team-based creative problem solving.
Last year, our good friend Marshall Haymond’s fifth-grade team took it all the way to the top and placed second at Global Finals in Knoxville, TN. His positive experience motivated me to sign Hadley up when a notice was sent home at the beginning of the school year.
There are many different levels and newbie Haddie became part of the Rising Stars (kindergarten-2nd grade), the only non-competitive branch in DI. Four other classmates joined her after school each week as they formulated a skit based upon an official theme: “Big Bug’s Bad Day.”
The kids did everything themselves: researched the bugs they wanted to be, made their costumes, choreographed the script and memorized lines they made up. Parent-volunteer Lance Antieau was only there to guide, not instruct.
Which, let’s face it, is needed. First graders aren’t exactly known for staying on topic.
Leading up to the tournament, I have never seen Hadley more excited. Keep in mind this is the girl we’ve exposed to a myriad of activities like dance, skiing, swimming, soccer and art classes.
The difference, I believe, was that she ownedthis. She’s an imaginative and spirited kid who, for the first time, didn’t have a grown-up telling her what to do and how to do it. Instead, she spent the better part of the year making magic happen with her teammates on their own terms.
And you know what? They did on the day of the tournament. Haddie was the “big bug” (a monarch butterfly) whose bad day consisted of flying into a tree and breaking her wing. Her teammates’ role (a spider, katydid and stink bugs) was to fix it using their natural resources.
It wasn’t polished but it was informative and charming with first-grade potty humor thrown in for good measure (kind of hard to resist with stink bugs).
The second part of the day was an Instant Challenge that was designed to teach students how to quickly assess problem components and the steps necessary to resolve short-time issues.
For the competitive teams, only the students are allowed in the classroom but for Haddie’s level, parents were allowed to watch. Prior to doing so, each of us was required to raise our hands and make a pledge that we would not reveal the topic so as to give other teams an unfair advantage.
Silence ain’t exactly my virtue and I asked if there was a blogger clause (turns out there wasn’t).
During the Instant Challenge, I was thrilled to watch my take-charge-kinda daughter (read: bossy) work synergistically with her teammates. It was rewarding for me to see her newfound maturity and ability to take something ordinary and make it extraordinary.
The day ended with a rockin’ dance and awards ceremony. As we were driving home, I asked Haddie the best and worst things about her experience. “The best was doing our skit!” she exclaimed. “And the worst thing?” Long pause.
“Probably that we had to perform in a little classroom, not on the stage in front of a lot of people.”
Look out, Broadway.
ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM
Jenna Jones (comedian/writer/singer at The Daily Show & cool LDS chick) said it best via Twitter:
Mormons don’t participate in lent because being Mormon is like lent 24/4. The only thing left to give up is dessert. NO ONE’S TAKING THAT FROM ME.
The good news:
For once, Hadley was not ravenous when she returned home from school.
The bad news:
It is because she (and a few boys on the bus) ate the graham crackers and marshmallows off her 100-day project, the World’s Biggest S’more.
You know. The ones cemented on with glue.
Life is returning to a degree of normalcy this week. I’ve been asked by numerous people what is going to happen to my knee surgery. As some of you know I was supposed to go under the knife last Wednesday, the day after Jamie’s heart surgery.
Obviously, it didn’t happen and has been postponed indefinitely until we can pay off Jamie’s humongous medical bills. He feels horribly about this but I would have felt horribly if I’d had my knee surgery and then we would have had his heart fallout. Talk about being in dire financial straits.
My silver lining, though: Thanks to some unused travel vouchers and some major miracles, the kiddos and I are going on a Disney Cruise to Mexico during Spring Break…for just $49.
No, we can’t afford to bring Jamie who has to work. The situation is not that miraculous. 
On another good note, the weather has been ideal–sunny and in the 60s so the kiddos and I have been venturing outdoors every day. Whether it’s doing our homework in the backyard on the grass or playing at Prospect Park….
Or hiking Red Rocks.
Not to mention playing with BFF Seanie at our favorite haunts in nearby Golden (which we fell in love with last year). Activities included playing at Lion’s Park playground, biking along Clear Creek to the secret slide, throwing rocks for hours, and picnicking by the pond.
Call me crazy but does this picture disturbingly resemble an engagement photo?
To save face, I’m calling it a good ‘ol boy headlock.
Hands down, our favorite pastime is visiting the chickens at the Clear Creek History Park.
Yes, that sign does read “keep off fence.”
In their defense, neither of them can read yet.
Parental supervision: fail.
We’re not out of the woods yet with Jamie. He’s had some side effects from the blood thinner medication and also some pain in his foot we feared was a blood clot, which landed him back in the Urgent Care. Thankfully, they didn’t find anything wrong.
But overall, he’s doing well and the last week I’ve learned some things about him.
1) The Man is Vain.
He refused to take off his baseball cap in the hospital because of his bad hair. I told the man hospitals are the only place where you get a pass for bad hair (and everything else) days.
2) The Man is Addicted to Television.
He only watches television late in the evenings and often needs to fall asleep to it. I’ve made concessions in this area because it was the difference between him falling asleep in our bed vs. the couch and have learned to live with it.
But after his surgery where he was barely lucid and couldn’t put two words together, he managed to say this:
Where’s the remote?
Intervention needed.
3) His Children’s Empathy is Questionable.
Because we have two boys and two girls, we are highly competitive and our loyalties are evenly divided. However, Fat Kitty tips the gender scale and Hadley and Bode often obsess that we actually have three boys and two girls.
The first night Jamie was in the hospital was the most difficult for me because there was a deluge of uncertainty. The kids and I brought him an overnight bag and visited with him but I was reluctant to leave at the end of the evening. Then sweet Bode piped up:
Oh no! Now we’ll only have two boys and two girls at home.
The kid could have waited until we left the hotel room to start writing Jamie off.
3) The Man Has Great Friends
In addition to the many people 
who called, watched the kids and attended to so many of our needs, Jamie had some of his buddies stop by. College friend Whitney and his wife were house-hunting from Utah and generously brought us a healthy meal from Olive Garden. Then, Jamie’s childhood friend Ivan arrived loaded up with heart-healthy groceries. He also happened to drop by at the exact same time the BYU basketball game was on.
Kind of convenient that Ivan doesn’t have cable and we have an 84″-inch HDTV.
4) The Man Has An Obsessed Wife
A few years ago, we watched a special on television that told the story of a husband who was in a horrific accident. He survived but his short-term memory was destroyed. This had many ramifications but the one the wife hated the most was anytime they were separated–even if it was just for a bathroom break–when they were reunited, he would respond like it had been years since they had seen each other.
Initially, this would be flattering but after a while, such celebrations would be annoying.
Welcome to Jamie’s world. Such is the trade-off for a gushing wife who’s just glad he’s still around.
Let’s face it: We all need a bit of humor after the week we’ve had (did I mention I’ve also been sick?) Most importantly, Jamie is HOME FROM THE HOSPITAL and is doing well.
Of course, that didn’t stop me from hovering over him like an aircraft while he slept last night to ensure he was still breathing.
C’mon fess up: you’ve done that when your babies were sick, right?
On Monday, I’ll get into the nitty-gritty of it all but today, I just need a laugh. I’ve had a couple of great emails forwarded that I’d like to share.
The first one about “Kelpto Cat” caught stealing over 600 items on video camera is from my mother-in-law.
Neighbors beware: I’m putting Fat Kitty to work.
And this one is from my neighbor Angella. Of course, no irreverence is intended but it’s a perfect fit because it deals with a blond Canadian.
Too bad she isn’t a Pollack, too.
Blonds Explaining Easter
Three blondes died and found themselves standing before St. Peter. He told them that before they could enter the Kingdom of Heaven, they had to tell him what Easter represented.
The first blonde, an American, said “Easter is a holiday where they have a big feast and we give thanks and eat turkey.”
St. Peter said, “Noooooo,” and wouldn’t let her in.
The second blonde, a Brit, said “Easter is when we celebrate Jesus’s birth and exchange gifts.”
St. Peter said, “Noooooo,” and he wouldn’t let her in either.
The third blonde, a Canadian, said she knew what Easter was, and St.Peter said, “So, tell me.”
She said, “Easter is a Christian holiday that coincides with the Jewish festival of Passover. Jesus was having Passover feast with his disciples when he was betrayed by Judas, and the Romans arrested him. The Romans hung him on the cross and eventually he died. Then they buried him in a tomb behind a very large boulder … “
St. Peter said, “Verrrrrry good.”
Then the blonde continued, “Now, every year the Jews roll away the boulder and Jesus comes out. If he sees his shadow, we have six more weeks of hockey.”
This is a big week chez nous with Valentine’s Day, our anniversary and my birthday all crammed into one lil’ ol’ week.
Just call February, Ambruary.
Our day started with heart-shaped pancakes.
And a girl donning her Valentine’s Day outfit from Grandma B.
She’s reenacting a heart, just in case you’re not up on your shapes.
In a move that can only be described as ambitious, I made Valentine’s cookies for all the neighborhood children and we topped off our day with a fancy fondue and Valentine cake dinner, along with handmade love notes and chocolates.
Well, at least I thought it was ambitious until my sister-in-law Jane said her menu consisted of Sambuca shrimp, potato skins, shrimp cocktail, chicken parmigiana, grilled veggies, lobster tails, coconut creme pie and creme brulee.
Note: I only complain about her overachieving gourmand tendencies when I am unable to enjoy her spoils.
But really, the highlight was an anonymous Valentine that Haddie received from one of her classmates. It read:
Be my VP. Jast kidig. And dont get sick on me agen.
Sounds like true love to me.
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. Learn More