“Amber, you need to keep our bedroom door closed. The light wakes me up every morning.”

“I need to keep it open so I can hear Bode at night.”

“Why?”

“With our fan on, I can’t hear him unless we keep the door open.”

“Isn’t that what the baby monitor is for?”

“It’s crappy and old. The only way to avoid the static is to turn it way down but then I can’t hear him.”

“And that is exactly how I want it to work.”

****
Stupid Parent Note: When fiddling with the monitor later that day I realized Haddie had switched it to the wrong channel. I hear that helps. Sometimes. No wonder I was sleeping so well.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

Last week, I had a blast from the past when one of my best friends from my single life in Salt Lake City called to tell me he was moving to Denver.

Jason and I were pretty inseparable those years. While I loved being swingin’ single, he endured hours of lamentations about alllllll my glorious relationships. And believe me, as a SWF who did not marry until I was 30 (a veritable Old Maid in Mormon culture), I had a lot of them. And they were not all glorious.

Jason lived with a few other guys in the foothills overlooking the city. Their only furniture in the living room was a killer entertainment center and four ratty recliners. Because is this not the sign of the ultimate bachelor pad?

He and I shared a love for the outdoors and cooking. We spent countless hours concocting recipes, man-handling raw meat and devouring every carnivorous pound of it. The two of us had history.

He married a great gal the day before Jamie and I tied the knot and we lost touch. Until now.

They have a son a month older than Bode so I offered to let them stay with us last week while they looked for a place.

Now, we all change to some extent when we get married and breed. I used to run up mountains for fun and discuss politics, culture and current events. Never once did I utter the words “Poop” or “Potty.”

But nothing could have prepared me for the change in Jason. I mean, this was my cooking bud! I was ecstatic to try some of my new recipes on him. I’d start with my famous Chicken Tikka Masala with homemade naan and end with Jamie’s fantastic smoked ribs. Maybe we’d even make a bacon-wrapped turkey for old time’s sake.

Until the bomb was dropped.

As I discussed the menu, Jason turned sheepish.

“Well uhhh…actually, I meant to tell you that Kate and I are [mumbling] afafjarians now.”

“You’re what? Agrarian? What’s that?”

“No, vegetarian. I don’t eat meat anymore.”

I could not have been more shocked if he had told me he was having a sex change. He is a big guy. A really big guy. A big carnivore-eating guy.

I stared at him blankly, giving him the reaction he anticipated. I honestly have never been friends with a vegetarian. To my knowledge, I don’t discriminate or offend except for when I walk around Taste of Colorado with the juices of my life-sized turkey leg oozing out of my mouth.

I realized last week that even though I am not against the lifestyle, I just cannot relate. I don’t consider myself a huge meat eater but most of my most favorite dishes revolve around it. And there was no way I was going to try some of his “substitute meat.” I am still recovering from the trauma of once eating Spongebob’s cousin tofu.

Entertaining guests is stressful enough but my fretting reached a new level over what to feed them.

Finally, I threw in the white flag and pandered,

“So, what do Your People eat?”

“Vegetables. A lot of vegetables.”

Who knew?

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

Note the 5 a.m. timestamp on this post.

‘Nuff said.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

To those nice people who butchered Jamie’s beloved pumpkin last year:

Halloween is over and Hunky Hubby’s 141.5-pound beast is STILL here.

HALP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

P.S. Special thanks to the local paper for featuring Jamie and a picture of his award-winning pumpkin today. Nothing like prolonging the misery.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

I realize I invest an inordinate amount of time and energy into Halloween. Between the pumpkin patch, the parties, the scarecrow festival, the neighborhood parade and oh yeah–trick-or-treating– it is a month-long celebration chez nous.

In recent years, Halloween has come close to trumping Christmas as my favorite holiday. The only reason I can’t quite admit to this is because of the whole Jesus thing. Because he is, after all, Jesus.

The biggest letdown after Halloween is putting my decorations away. To add to the ambiance, I went on a dusting strike all month and I even scored a few cobwebs in the process. I have decided it is such a pity to wipe away a month of hard-earned indolence that I may just hold off until after Christmas. By then, it may just resemble a lovely layer of snow.

But the real story of this Halloween?

Jamie and the great pumpkin. He finally carved his award-winning beast on Monday.

But then came the question: what would he carve? A traditional face? A creative picture? A funny saying?

P.S. To those inconsiderate folks who scheduled school pictures the morning after Halloween: evidently you think sugar-crashed children with orange hair and black fingernail polish are in vogue….

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

And Fear Factor-esque worms for dessertYou do have lots and lots of fattening food. Coincidentally, the two people bringing salads canceled at the last minute. Who needs it (rabbit food) anyway?

No matter how cute they are, do not invite felines. After all, the term “catty” derives from somewhere.

You do not have tacky plastic decorations on your lawn. The only exception is if it is named “Marcus the Carcass.”

You do have a coloring area but do not use anything labeled “permanent marker” unless you want a permanent reminder of your party.

You do have moving body parts to freak the kids out.

You do not make the mistake of calling a [big mean] Tomcat a [woosy little] Kitty.

You do not attempt a group shot. Ever.

2007

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

Our romantic getaway weekend was fantastic and I will provide the details and pictures (well, most of them anyway on my next post.

For now, it’s Rockies Central ’round here. If you are not in “the know,” the Colorado Rockies have made history and are in the World Series for the first time. They play the Red Sox on Wednesday and the earth will allegedly stop turning on its axis that night. At least this is what I am told.

Even though I’m not much of a baseball fan, I have been caught up in the excitement and would love for them to win. However, my life will not ever be put on hold for any sport. Well, except for if Nekkid Bowling ever graces the airwaves.

I clearly state my case today at Mile High Mamas. So sports lovers or haters, come visit and see why I will surely become the most hated woman in Colorado.

Hear me roar:

This letter is actually on behalf of my husband, Jamie. He has been a devout follower since your amazing winning streak (I believe the correct term for him is “fair-weather fan.”) Regardless, he is committed to your cause and can be seen wandering around with bloodshot eyes after particularly late nights out on the town with you.

I admittedly am not much of a baseball connoisseur (due to the inordinate amount of pucks I took to the face whilst growing up in Canada) but I would love nothing better than for you to win the World Series. I have even been to a few of your games. Of course, I was usually lucky enough to be in a suite with oodles of food, Internet access and television so I can’t really confirm if you were even playing.

There was also the time we were given seats directly behind home plate and indulged in the gourmet fare at the secret restaurant in the secret tunnel. When we returned to watch the game, we were presented with an extensive menu and informed we could order anything off of it…for free. I can’t remember but I think you won. I know I did.

These experiences have confirmed that I could grow to love baseball. Well, except for the time a couple of years ago when we took our 1-year-old daughter to have her first taste of your Great American Pastime. Unfortunately, the only taste she got that night was when she proceeded to lick all the garbage cans in the lobby.

Fond memories aside, my reason for writing today is to thank you for your clean 4-0 sweep of the Arizona Diamondbacks. You see, Jamie and I had big plans on those Tuesday and Friday nights. As you know, these would have been potential game days had you not come out as the winners you are.

Last Tuesday, I had signed up weeks ago for a free parenting seminar at The Children’s Hospital entitled “Oh Poo.” You see, we have a daughter who is an underachiever as it relates to her bathroom habits. Desperate times call for desperate measures – times that evidently include attending a class with “Poo” in the title.

Dearest Rockies: if you had not won, my poor husband would have still been dragged along to the seminar because I urgently needed his support. Please, please, please don’t think I’m sacrilege; I appreciate the historic nature of your bid for the World Series. But unless Todd Helton is prepared to come wipe my 3-year-old’s butt, it does not have much bearing on me.

As for Friday, Jamie had planned a getaway to Breckenridge. In a 4,000-square-foot cabin. With a hot tub and roaring fire. WITHOUT CHILDREN. When he threatened me that our romantic retreat may also include watching you, well, let’s just say he may not have gotten laid it is a good thing you had already played.

Sincerely,

A Grateful Rockies Widow

P.S. Even though I am the only person in Colorado who does not bleed purple and will probably be burned at the stake bat for this letter, I wish you the best of luck at the World Series. We will be watching! Just make sure you win before November 5th because I have something planned that night, too.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

The following is a true account of the email stream that occured after I asked our Mile High Mama bloggers to volunteer for an assignment. Reader beware: this is a disturbing confirmation of what occurs when “Mama” leaves the children alone.

Amber: Who has Rockies fever? Is anyone in your family totally gung-ho? What are you teaching your children about this big event? Anyone sporting Rockies paraphernalia? Personally, I’m not a huge fan but am getting swept away in it all!

Is anyone interested in writing a fun post about the Rockies from a “Mama’s” perspective? It will publish on the first day of the World Series.

Aimee: Well, I have a small one up right now… and I am not all that into it like yourself but I can definitely do it if no one else really wants to. Let me know!

Julie: Likewise, I can do it if no one is a HUGE fan. I fear that my credibility is flimsy though, as a transplant and a former Mets fan and Reds fan (I do stick with the National League though, if that helps).

Mitch: This sounds like man’s work ladies….I don’t want to read about how many touchdowns Matt Holliday hit. Let me know if you want me to help out on this.

Julie: oooooohh…them’s fightin’ words!!

(seriously, LMAO!)

Gretchen: We’ve caught it. The kids are thrilled the Rockies are going to the World Series, but with their limited perspective have no clue what it really means. I think they feel our excitement and make it their own.

When Mommy and Daddy are excited, good things happen. Like Pizza Hut at the door, late bedtimes, the promise of new t-shirts.

I can put something together, unless someone else has already written something or has a very itchy, must-write-it idea.

Catherine: So glad ya’ll got this one covered. I think I got Rockies Fever once, but it involved headaches and nausea…. probably something different altogether.

Amber: Wow, I leave for a few hours and look what I missed! Let’s have Gretchen cover this one and Mitch is welcome to write a Rockies post as well (mom vs. dad perspective). I will ignore his little comment, though admittedly the only reason I watch baseball is for the Tight Ends….

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

I am still alive. I know my posting and commenting have been patchy at best and I really appreciate y’all still coming around to visit and confirm that I am still crazy. Now I’m just crazy busy!

The bad news is the next day was jam-packed. It started with the final volleyball tournament for my girls. I reasoned that if we lost the first round, I could go home and sleep. But wouldn’t you know it: we won. And kept winning. And won the entire frickin’ stake tournament. With no sleep whatsoever. And yes, I am still bitter because I am a model coach like that.

That pretty much summarized my week. This is why I am ecstatic Jamie is whisking me away for a romantic getaway weekend. It was supposed to be a surprise and he swore his family to secrecy.

Screw-up #2: A few days later, Jamie unthinkingly informed me of his workout regimen in preparation for “the cabin.”

P.S. The 4,000-square-foot cabin. Hate me yet?

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

If you have a husband who weighs less than he did in high school.

Who has never needed to diet a day in his life, except for the experimental ones he does “for fun.”

Who has something called a metabolism.

And self-control i.e. he has a jar of his favorite treat (Jelly Bellies) on his office desk and only eats a few of them a day.

A man who consumed the exact same food you did on your honeymoon and managed to lose three pounds while you gained two. OK, four.

That same man who “offered” to do a 3-day Torturous Starvation Fruit Flush Diet with you last week. You reluctantly agreed, knowing he would kick your weight-loss butt.

The man who, for the first time in his life, quit 32 hours into it but still lost 3 lbs.

The woman who, for the first time in her life, suffered through the 72 hours of misery and WAS THE WEIGHT-LOSS WINNER… OR RATHER LOSER WITH 6.5 lbs.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog