Marriage’s Great Deceptions

January 2, 2008 By

On behalf of Mile High Mamas, welcome back!

After a wonderful, relaxing Christmas “it” occurred on December 26th – the day I confirmed that maybe I am not losing my mind. And for anyone who has ever been there, lost that, you know exactly what I mean.

Case #1:

My favorite cookie sheet has been missing for months. A sturdy, heavy-duty hunk of metal that has been the conduit through which I have brought many calorie-filled wonders into being. And into my being.

I have greatly mourned its loss. My husband Jamie has known about my devastation. I even debated buying a new cookie sheet whilst in the throes of all my holiday baking but held off because I just couldn’t bear the thought of replacing it.

Case #2:

In the past, a favorite practice of mine was dumping a gallon of drinking water on my lap whilst driving. Until Jamie bought me a glorious CamelBak water bottle, which, in my many years of water-bottle dumpage, is the only one that has never leaked.

Our affair was glorious. Each morning as I drove the kids around town, I lovingly sucked my malleable mouthpiece and never once did even a drop of water escape.

Until I lost the straw.

For those unfamiliar with the CamelBak waterbottle, the straw is to the bottle as the husband is to deception.

Confused? Keep reading.

Revelation#1:

Fast forward to December 26th. Our Christmas tree had been dead for weeks and I could not bear to look at it for another moment. Despite the fact that I had a killer sinus infection and a house littered with new toys, THE TREE HAD TO COME DOWN (you know what I mean if you’ve ever had those moments).

After the last light strand was unstrung and the last ornament unceremoniously dumped in a bag with the promise of future organization, Jamie removed the tree. He went to dump the water out of the tree stand when he stopped. And he called out:

“Hey, Amber. Remember that straw you’ve been missing?”
“Yes.”
“It would seem that maybe I might have kind of well, you know possibly used your CamelBak to water the tree and maybe just possibly your straw might have fallen into the tree stand.”

My beloved straw. Drowning in tree sap all these weeks. No wonder there was a death. (Of the tree that is; Jamie’s future is yet to be determined.)

Revelation #2:

Remember the sinus infection? Later that day, I was down in The Dungeon of Despair attempting to locate the lifetime supply of tissue boxes I recently purchased from Costco. I didn’t find the tissues but when I gazed up, up, up to the top of our storage shelves, I caught a glimpse of a glimmering beacon. A beacon that distinctly resembled my beloved hunk of metal.

I joyfully reached up, only to discover displaced pumpkin seeds reposing on my cookie sheet. Or rather, intentionally placed pumpkin seeds BY MY AWARD-WINNING, PUMPKIN-OBSESSED HUSBAND WHO KNOWS I HAVE BEEN PULLING MY HAIR OUT FOR MONTHS ABOUT THIS DISAPPEARANCE.

And yes, there just may have been the first reported case of Abuse By Pumpkin Seeds had he not promptly (and wisely) removed them.

The only good thing that came out of my findings of December 26th is that I assuredly, certifiably am not losing my mind.

P.S. Now, if I could just find Jamie’s lost Christmas present….

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Humor, Jamie, Marriage

Breckenridge or Bust Part II

October 25, 2007 By

Jamie’s wonderful family is very different from my own. The Canuck Clan has always been active and outings revolved around camping or water-skiing in sub-zero temperatures. Because with two weeks of summer you just have to make concessions.

On the other hand, Jamie’s clan are homebodies and most gatherings revolve around food, relaxing and well, more food. What makes this perplexing is they are all tall, skinny metabolic wonders with bodies like the very stars and stripes upon which this country was built.

The Canucks? Think maple leaves.

When Jamie’s family arrived in Breckenridge on Saturday, we ate, relaxed and ate some more. Now, don’t get me wrong–I have absolutely nothing against relaxing. I think I even did it once back in 1986. But when we invited them to come play in the snow with us, our invitation was greeted with blank stares that implied my little half-breeds and I suffer from a permanent brain freeze. What? People actually choose to touch that stuff?

When it came to hot tubbing, the whole famn damily excelled (possibly because it involved relaxing?) It would have also involved hot chocolate if it were not for my dear hubby’s communication blunder. Call me crazy but when a man offers to “Go make everyone some hot chocolate,” wouldn’t you also assume he was going to make and deliver it? He somehow forgot to disclose he was going to take a shower and run a marathon in the interim. When we finally gave up, I had a new appreciation for the grape-to-prune evolution.

As payback, I later snuck a three-foot-long icicle into his bathwater. OK, maybe “snuck” is a bit of an overstatement. More like lugged the frigid beast and hoisted it into the tub, ignoring his protests. It was a small payback for the many ice cubes that have somehow found their way down my back over the years.

As much fun as I had [relaxing and eating] with the family, I most enjoyed my alone time with Jamie on Friday. The gourmet buffalo fillets he grilled for us:

And the Rockstar Energy drink. I joked that we were there to chill. Why on earth would we need an energy drink?

I found out later that night.

(Note: no relaxation involved. :-)

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Colorado, Family travel, Humor, Jamie, outdoors, travel

Breckenridge or Bust Part I

October 24, 2007 By

This will be one of my memorable two-part series. One might assume it is due to the length and the inordinate amount of pictures, which would be true. But the real reason is I accidentally deleted the rest of the #$&#*& post and will have to rewrite it tomorrow.

Our weekend in Breckenridge was whimsical, relaxing and fun. The cabin Jamie rented was absolutely gorgeous and cost us the equivalent of a trip to Hawaii. Well, without the airfare.

We lazed around all Friday afternoon gazing out the vaulted windows at the Ten Mile Range. He later cooked me a gourmet meal and we indulged in Crepes a la Cart in Breck for dessert. Oh, and did I mention it was a pumpkin crepe? Evidently, I have issues.

The next morning, we snuggled in bed watching a movie. This was not just any movie. This was the movie of my youth – Stealing Home starring Jodie Foster and Mark Harmon. Never heard of it? Nobody has so I was shocked/thrilled when I discovered it in the cabin’s collection.

It took me back to when my three best friends and I repeatedly watched it in high school, falling deeper and deeper in love with William McNamara (one of the stars) every time. And how Rachel, the evil wench, sent away for an autographed picture of Billy Boy. She then proceeded to frame and lust over it on her bed stand while I had to slog through life with my woosy Ralph Macchio poster.

When we eventually detached ourselves from the cabin and Billy Boy (just don’t tell Jamie), we hiked Baker Tank Trail in the snow and 4X4ed Boreas Pass. It was such a throwback to my former life except the views are that much more rewarding when trailing my hubby from behind. :-)

Day two, Jamie’s family arrived with the kids. I had painstakingly packed The Kitchen Sink for them. Unfortunately, Grandma only brought the drain because she somehow forgot all their winter clothes.

Because why would we need boots in a winter wonderland

Oh, and did I mention it snowed 10 inches Saturday night?

To be continued tomorrow….

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Colorado, Family travel, Humor, Jamie, outdoors, travel

A Sneak Peak at Our Revolutionary Best-Selling Parenting Book

October 22, 2007 By

I never fancied myself to be a ballerina, which is particularly ironic since I’m walking on my tiptoes a lot these days. And also on egg shells.

My daughter Hurricane Hadley has become a tyrant. When I offer suggestions for a snack, I brace myself for the unleashing of how dare I even suggest something so unthinkable as apples. When I pretend to turn her into a princess with my magic wand, I am sent to the dungeons because I held the wand at the wrong angle. Anything sets her off, which makes me wonder if she has some kind of chemical imbalance.

Or if it’s the fact that she’s turning three years old this month.

I had heard from some that the 3s were worse than the 2s. Doubting Thomas that I am, I didn’t buy in. And now here I am: sold out.

We recently had a good day with what I would consider to be a reasonable amount of T.O.N. (Tantrums Over Nothing). We were sitting on our leather sofa watching out the window for my husband Jamie to come home. I looked down at how precious she was being and decided she needed some positive reinforcement.

“You know, Mommy is so happy with how sweet you’ve been today. Thank you for being so nice to your brother Bode and me.”

Within seconds, seconds people, she started acting up and it did not stop the rest of the night.

As we were eating dinner, she miraculously downed most of the curry chicken phyllos I made and I decided again: positive reinforcement.

“Haddie, what a great eater you’re being tonight!”

Within milliseconds, milliseconds people, she choked out her food and spewed it all over the floor. Jamie looked at me dubiously.

“Hey Amber. Here’s a new parenting strategy for you. How about ditch this positive reinforcement crap and STOP WITH THE COMPLIMENTS.”

We’ll begin our book tour next month.

Filed Under: Favorite Posts, Hadley, Humor, Jamie

Hunky Hubbyisms Edition No. 243

August 21, 2007 By
Jamie: On Proving that Women Aren’t the Only Ones Who Are Experts at Inducing Spousal Guilt

After day two of hauling Bode around in the water in Mexico, I finally sprung and bought a dolphin watertoy for $20, about double the price if we had bought it at home. Bode loved it and Hadley enjoyed pulling him around the pool.

“Jamie, I’d have to say this is the best $20 I’ve ever spent!”

He looked at me, feigning insult.

“Oh really? Mine was our wedding license.”

Jamie: On Building Our Children’s Self Esteem

Our hotel in Mexico had a kid’s club but unfortunately, Haddie was just shy of eligibility.

“Blast! Jamie, it says the minimum age for participation is 4 years old.”

“We’ll just tell them Hadley is a ‘dumb 4.’”

Jamie: On Being a Rock Star

I am not a fan of casseroles. I am even less a fan of our squash garden that multiplies like rabbits. However, after our 50 gazillioneth squash dish, I figured I needed to try something new and stumbled upon a squash casserole recipe.The ingredients were pretty bland with such things as sour cream and cream of chicken soup. It also called for garlic so I overcompensated by laying it on. Thick.

I was instantly remorseful and forewarned Jamie at the dinner table.

“Amber, don’t worry. It doesn’t need to be a rock concert in your mouth every time.”

He took a bite and paused for reflection before commenting: “And this…is acid rock.”

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Humor, Jamie, Marriage, travel

Why Bart and Home are NOT on PBS Kid’s Club

July 22, 2007 By

Upon returning home from an afternoon with Grandma, I was eager to spend time with Hadley. Unfortunately, Jamie had other ideas. Y’see, before we were married, he was addicted to a little show the nation loves called The Simpson’s. I am not among the populace of adoring fans and make myself scarce whenever he watches it on occasion.

So when Haddie walked in the door, Jamie was glued to Bart and Homer. She barely took one look at me as she rushed past my adoring arms and plopped herself down on her Spongebob couch to watch with Jamie. Before long, that same glazed expression that overcomes her father when he watches The History Channel came onto her face.

“No, no, no!” I objected. “It’s bad enough YOU have to watch it but to expose our innocent child to this spawn-of-the-devil show?”

“Honey,” Jamie reasoned. “Studies have shown that children can actually learn more by watching The Simpson’s than Barney. Of course, the backlash of this study is the things they subsequently learned are morally wrong.”

Filed Under: Humor, Jamie

High on a Mountain Top Part II

July 17, 2007 By

Just tuning in? Be sure to first read High On a Mountain Top Part I that details one of my best days ever in the mountains.

When waxing ambitious with something that is physically challenging, it is best to confirm the facts. I.e. Is the bike ride from Frisco to Breckenridge really 20 miles? Just how steep is it? What did those kids eat for dinner that made them each add 10 pounds to the load?

We did not do our homework, nor did we put Haddie and Bode on a crash diet. To be honest, I was not worried because for once, I was thrilled to not be the one hauling them in the bike trailer (loving, empathetic wife that I am).

Something we did not calculate into our ride was the distance from the condo to the trailhead: a meager 2 miles. Now, 2 miles X 2 (round-trip) may not seem like a big deal. But tack those 4 miles onto 20 miles and guess what?

It is.

To be honest, I had an easy time on the moderate ascent. But when pulling that 65-pound trailer, no terrain is moderate. Poor Jamie toughed it out but by the time we arrived in Breckenridge 1.5 hours later, his knees were writhing in pain.

We dumped the bikes and strolled around Breck, playing with the kids at Riverside Park and coveting the sweet gourmet aromas of surrounding restaurants. We ultimately grabbed some food from a little deli and settled down beside the Blue River, listening to the sweet melodies of the Colorado Symphony as they practiced in the adjacent tent. With the fresh air, bubbling waters and the granite cliffs that stood sentry over us, everything just seemed right.

Until our descent.

Now, by the very connotation of the word, one would think this would be an effortless process of simply coasting down the mountainside with the wind at our backs. The problem was, there was wind but it was at our backs, our fronts, our sides, everywhere, turning that 65-pound trailer into a veritable parachute.

Again, I was rather unaffected but I took one look at Jamie after a few miles and knew he had reached his limit.

“Do you need to switch?”

“Yeah,” he said, wincing in pain.

“No problem, I feel strong!”

Famous last words, ones will probably be on my tombstone.

Jamie did not want the cumbersome task of switching the trailer over to my bike so presented me with his. Now, I don’t know if you have ever seen the height difference between the two of us but the man has about nine inches on me. And he had conveniently forgotten his tools to lower the seat.

I won’t expound upon the visual of me teetering on my tiptoes as I hyper-extended my legs, nearly canning myself on the frame with every rotation. Oh wait. I guess I just did. After about 15 minutes of this, my legs (and other undisclosed body parts) were in pain. I announced we had to switch the trailer so I could pull it on my bike. Fine.

Problem was I made the annunciation at the base of a monster hill, just the kind of place where you would want to gain some momentum prior to tackling it. If you were lacking in ambition, that is.

The kids and I set out on the climb cold turkey. Within a few minutes, Jamie’s knees gave out and he resorted to walking his bike up the hill. He was several yards ahead as my little engine slooooowly chugged along. I joked that he would probably still beat me.

He did.

And it did not get better. Bottom line, we survived but won’t be tackling 24-mile trips with the kids anytime soon in this lifetime.

Unless, that is, I feel strong. And you know where that mantra will get me.


P.S. Happy 40th Birthday birthday to my friend Tina! Oh, and that tombstone? No correlation whatsoever….
XOXXOX
-CBC

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Colorado, Family travel, Humor, Jamie, outdoors

Father’s Day Finale

June 18, 2007 By

It started out as a regular Sunday. I woke up at the crack of dawn, showered, tended to the kids, made Jamie’s favorite breakfast (gingerbread pancakes with fresh apple marmalade and whipped cream), followed by a backrub.

OK, so the fact that it was Father’s Day probably had something to do with it.

When we finally arrived at church, I noticed on the program that the Primary kids were singing a couple of songs dedicated unto the dads in the congregation. Hadley is in what is called Nursery; kind of the preschool to the Big Primary Kahuna and will move up in January. The problem is all her little buddies are a bit older and have already made the transition.

So, on the program I noted the Primary was singing her favorite song: “I’m so glad when Daddy comes home,” a little ditty she’s been singing since she could barely talk. I hesitated, wondering if my little social butterfly would be ill-at-ease performing a song she’d never practiced in front of huge congregation. So I simply asked if she’d like to sing it with the big Primary kids. The response?

Ohhhhh yeah!

In fact, she could barely sit still leading up to her debut performance. I even tried to do a practice run as a refresher but she got mad, saying she wasn’t going to sing it now. Silly me.

When it came time, she practically skipped to the front of the chapel and plopped herself front and center. And as if expecting all eyes should naturally fall upon her, she prepared herself to perform.

The only problem was that I failed to tell her they were singing two songs, the first of which she did not know.

The music started and for a moment, Hadley faltered. She cautiously looked around as if thinking, “This was NOT in my contract.” But while the other young children either looked bored out of their minds or like a deer in headlights, the Hurricane took a different approach.

“She is…she is…she is….” Jamie laughingly faltered.
“What? What is she doing?”
“She is lip-syncing the words!” he finally spewed out.

Sure enough, my little Hurricane was faking it, evidently so as not to disappoint her publics.

But the best reaction of all was when the second song came on, her song. She immediately perked up, SHOUTED the words, and acted out the actions such as “put my arms around his neck, hug him tight like this.” The kid gave an Oscar-worthy performance.

When it came time to “give him a great, big kiss,” Jamie and I were about ready to pee our pants as she dramatically swept out her arm and blew him a smoocher.

She was so proud of herself and had no idea that she, the youngest kid up there, had left the entire ward in stitches. And had made the biggest, funniest, cutest fool of herself imaginable.

And as for me? I was the proud mama all day. After all, it is sometimes nice to know the apple does not fall far from the tree. :-)

So let’s spill it: your kid’s best performance story in school, church, etc.
© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Hadley, Humor, Jamie

What NOT to teach your 3-year-old daughter

June 14, 2007 By

[Overheard while Jamie corrupted Hadley by watching Chevy Chase's Vacation on television.]

“Daddy, what are they doing?”

“Looking for a place to dispose of the body, Sweetie.”

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Hadley, Humor, Jamie

When Life Isn’t a Beach

May 21, 2007 By

I do not like sand. Some would even go so far to say I have OCD regarding my aversion to the stuff. I hate it anywhere on my body and most of all, I freak out when it is on my feet for even a moment after I leave the beach.

So one would wonder why I once spent an entire summer playing sand volleyball. Or why we’re taking all these recent trips to the ocean. Y’see, I would be in heaven if I was able to stretch out on a nice, rocky beach but sadly, very few people share my illness. And so I suffer for the betterment of those around me.

That said, how is it I had to haul eight tons of it over the weekend and also threw in several thousand pounds of bricks for good measure?

Project Hadley Playset from Hades is well underway and I am pleased to say we are almost halfway done. It has been a beast of a job trying to build a retaining wall and fill in a rather substantial ditch our developers thoughtfully left all the houses on the west side of our street. Eventually, this is where the swingset will go.

Jamie took Friday off and diligently worked most of the weekend. I pitched in a good number of hours but now that Bode is mobile, I can’t turn my back on him for even a moment. I learned that the hard way last week. I let him nap on our bed and when he woke up, he briefly discovered the freedom of flight. It did not end well.

I promised Jamie he would have my undivided help during Bode’s two naptimes (that were not on our bed). I admittedly had a devious plan. Y’see, I nearly had a nervous breakdown last week because Bode was a terrible napper and Hadley didn’t do it at all. So I figured for once, these kids of mine would give me an out and I would have to endure Jamie’s slave labor for maybe an hour each day.

Bu then they both slept. And slept and slept. After my hundredth trip with sand and bricks, I was at my limit but couldn’t back out. I deliriously made up a catchy little jingle in my head, which I sang over and over again to get me through:

“WAKE UP, DARNIT. WAKE UP, DARNIT.”

OK, so maybe “darnit” wasn’t the exact word but my lyrics aren’t exactly along the lines of what Mormon girls would say. Well, at least not the good ones.

But I survived Round 1 and am ready for Round 2 next weekend. But this time I plan to be armed with an even better secret weapon for the children.

You know, like sugar. Lots and lots of sugar.

 

Filed Under: Family, Hadley, Humor, Jamie
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