I realize I exuded an inordinate amount of energy whining about my previous calling as Party Princess. This is due to a lack of support and resources, not to the actual task. In fact, I pride myself on being able to throw a good party.

Usually.

At the very last minute, Jamie and I decided to invite my in-laws over for dinner recently. After extending the invitation, we then raided the pantry to ascertain the menu, which Jamie determined would be our infamous chicken cilantro quesadillas.

Now, if any of you ever need any party-planning tips, take it from this Party Princess: you can have the venue, you have have the decorations, you can have the entertainment. But you ain’t got nothin’ if you don’t have food.

And so I called my MIL (and the following is a true account):

“Hey Linda! I was wondering if maybe you could bring a couple of cups of grated cheese. “

“Sure, no problem.”

“And since you’ll be in the fridge, some salsa would be nice, too.”

“OK, cheese and salsa. Anything else? ”

“Well, since you asked, maybe some sour cream would be perfect.”

“All right. Anything else?”

“Well, if you have any tortillas laying around, that would be helpful, too. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of dessert.”

We hang up the phone, only for me to realize I am bereft of a key ingredient in my dessert. I call her again.

“Errr… Linda?”

“Yes, I know it’s you, Amber”

“Do you think you could also bring some cream cheese?”

(Sighs) “Yes, is that is?”

“I think so. In fact, why don’t you just take care of dinner all together?…”

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

Once upon a time when I worked as the Craaaaaaazy Canuck Ski Reporter for Utah’s radio stations, I developed an innate talent: I learned how to say, “Skiing is cool” in 100 different ways. Try putting that on your résumé.

By the same token, I need some wordsmith assistance over at Mile High Mamas today. The challenge? Don’t ask. Just conspire.

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

I come from a family of competitors. Throw my winning-obsessed husband into the mix and anything competitive is our kryptonite.

You know Rock, Paper, Scissors? Jamie and I instituted this game early in our marriage. Poopy diapers are usually on the line so the stakes are high. And miraculously enough, I win 99% of the time.

Too bad my hard-working hubby is only home 15% of the time.

You know that game where you serenely knock the ball with a mallet through wickets? Some people call it Croquet.

My brothers and I call it Blood Sport.

Growing up, volleyball was one of our sports de choix. All three of us were MVPs of our high school. And all three of us still goad and harass each other to no end anytime we play.

I was asked to be the volleyball coach at church. Saturday was our first game. Something you should know about church ball: athleticism does not abound. At all. I consoled myself by saying they are super sweet girls and I would rather have that than snotty yet great players.

I take it back.

We were creamed, mutilated and trampled upon our first game.

I like to think I handled it well but every single point scored against us was like a daggar to the heart.

Or at least a croquet mallet.

I was resigned to my losing station in life until the second game when I noticed Jamie’s former flame was the coach. Suddenly, my own fire was ignited and it became The Most Important Thing in the World that we defeat her…errr, I mean them.

Our teams were neck-and-neck the whole time but amazingly, we pulled out a nail-biting win. She and I graciously congratulated each other after the game and I was reminded that she is beautiful, sweet and exactly the kind of person you could never hate.

But evidently, the kind you could beat.

[Insert evil cackle.]

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

Part of our family’s bedtime ritual is to pile onto our king-sized bed, play, wrestle, and launch off the edge, nearly cracking our head open (at least that is what happened to Bode last night when Jamie was left in charge for two milliseconds).

We also say prayers. The Hurricane’s petition is usually in line with mumbling something undecipherable in Arabic like she’s praying to Mecca. And so last night, we decided to walk her through the steps of prayer.

Me: First, we address who we are talking to.
Hadley: Heavenly Father.
Me: That’s right! And then we tell him the things we are grateful for. What things make you happy?
Hadley: She included family, preschool, dance class and for once that good-for-nothing dog of Uncle Chris did not make the list.
Me: Next, we ask Him for something. For me, I ask Him to bless me with a good night’s sleep.
Jamie: Yeah, me too.
Me: Hadley, what do you want to ask from Heavenly Father?”
Hadley: TREATS!

Jamie and I both chuckled at the beauty of childhood innocence. And then I saw him step forward as her loving mentor, her spiritual beacon. I waited, fully expectant that he would gently correct her, instructing her that in our prayers, we ask for help with something in our lives or to bless someone who is in need.

At last he spoke.

Jamie: I’m changing my request to treats, too.

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

Mile High Mamas is finally live! We did a soft launch today and will officially launch the site in a few weeks after we build up some content and work out the kinks. At that time, we will go crazy with promotions, giveaways and a guarantee of eight hours of sleep. All this from simply reading a blog? Err…not that I’m saying it will put you to sleep or anything.

Overall, I am pleased with the look of the site. We are still working on the cutest kid pics and plan to have weekly contests such as cutest baby, funniest candids, best first birthday cake eating picture, creative Halloween costumes, etc. I’m open to any suggestions for new categories, just so long as it does not involve nose picking famous icons.

Or perhaps we should have a category for siblings who deface younger siblings?

We are also still tweaking the Mama-to-Mama Forum. I had no idea what a logistical nightmare message boards could be. I was especially thrilled when The Denver Post’s editor walked me through it and chose to click on the breastfeeding link as an illustration. Well, not that there are visuals or anything. It’s not that kind of site.

But in the forum, I had divulged a breastfeeding conundrum and it was extremely thrilling for me to sit through his exposé err…explanation, feeling as if I was bearing my soul.

Or rather, certain other body parts.

This is not exclusively for Coloradoans so come one, come all to the site! Just make sure to tread softly, comment much, upload pictures and share the love. Oh, and don’t be shocked that I actually waxed a bit philosophical on my first post; I’ll be back to talking about defecated diapers in no time at all.

XOXOX
Amber

My first post at Mile High Mamas:

A couple of years ago, a friend invited me to join her playgroup at Bellview Park. It was a glorious sunny day, the kind you relish as you watch your 1-year-old test out her wobbly legs like a baby bird taking flight.

As the mothers talked freely, the children played. They splashed in the stream, giggled on the train, squealed at the animals in the petting zoo and rolled in the grass. It was one of those times when everything just seemed right.

Until I met Daniel. Actually, it was my sweet daughter Hadley who instigated the introduction. She had wobbled over to a corner of the park about 30 feet away from our perch and had innocently plopped down beside this little boy. He was tow-headed, bespectacled and I will never forget his bottomless smiles. I will also never forget his accompanying oxygen tank.

I struck up a conversation with his mother. Daniel was just a couple months older than Hadley but half her size and severely handicapped. But this child emanated a light like I have never seen as he guilelessly watched the children play around him.

In those brief moments that we spoke, I had such a strong connection with this woman as she longingly looked over at our circle of friends. A voice screamed inside of me, “INVITE THEM OVER! She is in desperate need of companionship!”

But I did not.

I had my reasons, albeit superficial ones. After all, I did not know this woman, she did not know me. And besides, it was not even my playgroup; I was already crashing it. How would it appear if I invited a complete stranger over?

That woman has probably long forgotten that day.

I have not.

It made me do some serious self-examination regarding how we as women can be so amazingly supportive, thoughtful and loving. And yet also occasionally be judgmental, catty and cliquish.

Mile High Mamas has been created to banish these divisions and to create an online community that cares. A place that focuses on commonality, respects differences and where we can just laugh and be ourselves. Oh, and also be numbered among those who understand the importance of having really great shoes.

Because isn’t that what being a Mile High Mama is all about….

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

We rented a vacation home in Estes Park and have spent the last few days tooling around the Rocky Mountains with my parents, who leave tomorrow.

They have been in the U.S. for almost a month now, bouncing back and forth between Colorado and my brother in N.J. During that visit, they rented a lakeside cabin in the Poconos. Despite being replete with verdant hills, fantastic shopping and crystalline waters, they have not recovered from one great trauma: not even one grain of salt was to be found anywhere at the cabin.
It was only when my mother smuggled salt out of an Estes Park restaurant prior to check-in that I realized just how deep this addiction runs. And I thought Diet Coke was her only vice. Then again, I won’t even get into all of mine….

The Shining Stanley Hotel

We thought since we were in the resort town where The Shining was filmed it would be a good idea to scare the bejeebers out of ourselves and watch the movie one night. Never seen it? Don’t. Especially when the hotel is just down the street. And when your husband coins psychotic phrases from the movie such as “Honey, I’m home” and “Light of my life.” It brings new meaning to sweet nothings.

Photo: Stanley at The Stanley.

And in keeping with the lunatic husband theme:

The Comment Wherein Hunky Hubby Insinuates I am Good Enough to Eat

“Jamie, I think this is the first time ever that I didn’t pack enough food.”

He voraciously gave me the once over.

“I dunno, Amber. You ever heard of the Donner Party?”

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

I have a grand announcement, one I never thought would transpire:

THE HURRICANE HAS A NEW FAVORITE SHOW!

Dora and that perky monkey are out and The Upside Down Show is in! And I can’t say I’m sad about this. The program is brilliantly funny, starring two comedians whose antics encourage imagination and play. Just last week, I journeyed to The Very Hairy Room, the No-Room Room, the South Pole and the This Way Room.

Evidently, I need some grown-up shows.

And the fact that I just called them “grown-up shows” reflects the desperation that much more. Speaking of which, is anyone else ecstatic about premiere week? What will you be watching?

At Casa Canuck, we have been living and breathing Upside Down’s Shane and David the past couple of weeks. Even Bubby lights up whenever they are on. It is only Jamie who does not understand the revered nature of the show. He recently had the audacity to turn on the channel guide while we were watching, minimizing the screen to about a quarter of the size. There were protests. And then waterworks.

The kids did not take it well, either.

Jamie fought back. “When I was little, we went two summers without a TV. Two summers!”

No reaction.

“And this, this, this quarter-sized screen,” he fumbled. “When I was little, my TV was only that big.”

Blank stares.

“AND WE WERE HAPPY TO HAVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Evidently that last statement was just for emphasis.

And guess what? In the end, Haddie won. Jamie lost. Shane and David rule supreme.

Now all that remains is figuring out what to do with our house that is Shrine to Everything Dora?….

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

Ten years ago today I was flying out of the Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris.

I had just spent the summer in the Middle East and then backpacked Europe with a few friends. At the airport we learned Princess Diana had died the night prior, just a few miles from our hotel. One of my friends even claimed she had heard the chorus of sirens.

Ten years later and the world is still mesmerized by this story. A part of me is perplexed with the amount of attention her life and death have garnered. The critic in me regards her as an unstable bulimic adulteress. But the softer side loved her kindness, the way she could connect with the people and how she was often the victim in a loveless marriage.

I guess all the attention should come as no surprise. I still remember lying on my mom’s fluffy bed back in 1981 and watching the royal wedding. In my 9-year-old head, she was a veritable princess with her puffed sleeves and [not-so] handsome prince. I envied everything about her and fantasized of my own extravagant wedding someday.

Twenty-six years later and I am here with a husband, two kids and a mortgage. It certainly isn’t the fairy tale I once envisioned but it also isn’t the nightmare Diana often lived. Funny how different reality is. But on the flipside, I never could have imagined the pure joy of being ensconced in the love of a great man and cherished children.

Despite all of life’s challenges, I think I’ll stick with our version of happily ever after, thank you….

And so my question:

Where were you?

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

I have infected Jamie, He Who Rarely Gets Sick. I guess you could say we have an infectious marriage (if you like cheesy puns). Which I evidently do.

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