Christmas Baking Week is upon me. I approach it each year with great alacrity, as Christmas Baking Week = Christmas Eating Week. OK fine. Jamie spoiled my fun when he read this entry: “Why use ‘alacrity’ (eagerness) when no one knows what it means?” My response: “Because I speak in one-word commands to a 1-year-old ALL DAY LONG! GIVE ME SOMETHING TO BE ALACRITIC ABOUT. Or however you’d say it.

Anyhew, on Le Menu this year are egg nog snickerdoodles, cream cheese cutout cookies, homemade chocolate suckers, caramel toffee squares, sugar ‘n spice cookies, vanilla fudge and of course, my $1,000 Almond Rocha. Not familiar with the latter item? Let me take you back, back, back five years to a journal entry describing when it all began.

December 2001–
“Since Labor Day, I have pumped more than $1,000 into a certain tooth of mine (editor’s note: this would be the same tooth that is still causing me problems five years later). First, the root canal. Then the crown. Then the painful abscess. Then the retreatment surgery. Then the filling to repair the retreatment. I had my final appointment just last month. Or so I thought. And then I started my Christmas baking and made Almond Rocha last night. My first mistake.

My second mistake was thinking I could actually eat it. Innocently, I chomped down. The candy was harder, crunchier than I remembered. Now, I usually don’t make a habit of spitting out my food but something was REALLY wrong and so I regurgitated the particularly crunchy portion of my treat. And there was my tooth. Not my crown, but the actual, veritable tooth. I reacted as would be expected–I let out a blood-curdling scream. My roommates came running and offered their horror and sympathy. And then they stayed and ate my $1,000 Almond Rocha, with all their teeth in tact. I’m not bitter, really.

And so this holiday season, just skip out on your baking all together. That song, “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth” brings painful and poignant meaning. For my sake, make sure to boycott Christmas carols as well….”

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

Ahhh, where do I start with my exploitations of my dear, sweet James? Probably my favorite hunky hubby story was early in our courtship. We met ONLINE (a rather crazy story for another time) and were married within six months after we met. My family was subsequently wary of him and my brother Patrick even referred to Jamie as “The Axe Murderer.” For this reason, it was very important for him to make a good impression when I bought him home to meet The Family for Christmas. It didn’t happen.

After his first full day in Calgary, he retired to his assigned room in the basement. My brother Jeek and his busting-at-the-seams pregnant wife, Shannon, were in the room next to him. Something you should know about Jamie is that when he does dream, it is very vivid. As in he thinks it’s actually happening.

So Jamie was in dreamland when he was awoken by a mouse (or so he thought) crawling up his leg. He shot outta bed, flew out of his room, only to find Jeek and Shannon having a late-night discussion on the couch. Panting heavily, Jamie announced to them, “Don’t worry: I’m Jamie!” (for fear they had forgotten who he was?) And he then proceeded to babble about how he had allegedly been attacked by this mouse. During his commentary, he went over to pet Lucky (the dog we couldn’t stand) and even gave Shannon a back-rub (not exactly whom you’d call the “cuddly type,” especially at nine-months pregnant).

Jamie then started to slowly wake up and made his way upstairs to get a glass of water. The full ramifications of what he had done started to set in. Embarrassed, he curled his 6’1 frame up onto a little couch upstairs and tried to go back to sleep, vowing to not go downstairs and face those people again.
Sympathetic and amused Jeek eventually followed him up, “Hey Dude, are you all right?” He really wasn’t.
When I went down the next morning to wake Jamie up, I could tell something was wrong. It was all confirmed in just one statement: “I think I gave Shannon a back-rub last night.” How’s THAT for a lasting first impression?…

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HONEY!!!

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

OK, allow me to stand on my soapbox for a bit. Wow, I think that elevates me to at least 5’6; so THIS is how the other half lives!!

It’s not very often that I take a public stand on something controversial but I think it is absolutely ridiculous the lengths people are going to bash the Christmas thing. It’s like everyone is becoming so obsessed about not offending others that we’re also not allowing people to freely express themselves. Though I’m not a fan of him, Bill O’Reilly said it best during a guest spot on the Today Show, “This is insane. It’s CHRISTMAS. It’s a FEDERAL HOLIDAY. U.S. Grant signed it into Law. We can say ‘Christmas.’”

One of the great things about this country is having the right to choose. Should Christmas be forced upon everyone? Of course not! I have good friends who are of every religious affiliation. Would I be offended if my Jewish friend sent me a “Happy Hanukkah” card even though I’m Christian? Certainly not! And that is why I chose to put “Merry Christmas” on my mailings this year. This is how I choose to celebrate the season.

What we need is tolerance. Let’s face it. Barely anyone even recognizes it as a religious holiday anymore. Santa has taken over any Christian symbol out there.

Humorous case in point: the children at church were practicing last week for a little nativity pageant they’re performing for our Christmas party on Friday. They were learning a new song, “When Joseph Went to Bethlehem” and the chorister was reviewing the words with them. They were filling in the blanks about how Joseph put his tools away in his shop in preparation for his journey and then how he urged the donkey forward with Mary on his back.

When it came time to fill in the words that Joseph carried bread and goat cheese in a little ______ sack, the adults erupted into laughter. Instead of saying “linen,” the kids innocently sang “In a little Santa sack.”

How about we all just have a sense of humor and foster a community and love and peace this holiday season, no matter what our religious and/or non-religious affiliation?!!!

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

In keeping with the tradition I started with Jeek to exploit my family on their birthdays, let us turn our attentions to dear ‘ol dad. The problem with him is, welp, he’s the only normal one in the bunch. Meaning: it’s tough to get any dirt on him.

Him: Quiet. Us: Deafening.
Him: Dependable. Us: Unstable.
Him: Patient. Us: Not.

What can I say? He’s the man who was there for every community, club and school sport I ever played, quietly cheering me on. He’s the man who would ditch me on the slopes and inspire me to catch up. He’s the man who would take me on daddy-daughter ski days, hikes, roller-blading excursions and bike rides all over the city.

He’s the man who secretly fixes anything that is broken whenever he comes to visit. He’s the man who went skating around Lake Bonavista with me in -30 degree weather and relished about how amazing it was that we had the whole place to ourselves (go figure). He’s the man who taught me that frozen nose hair is cool and something to be proud of.

He’s the man who taught me about life, about nature, about beauty and about the importance of being at one with yourself and your surroundings. He’s the man who set my standard high to marry a man who would always love me unconditionally.

Happy Birthday to a wonderful dad who is a rock and foundation to us all! OK, well maybe just to Jeek, Patrick and me but believe me, that’s more than enough….

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

Jamie’s profundity of the day whilst watching Sesame Street with Hadley:

“Hey, is it just me or do Grover and Miss Piggy have the same voice?”

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

How do you know if you’re cheap and anal (in the kindest way possible):

Just ask our good friends and neighbors whom we’ll call the “Aymonds.” The family rules for turning on the fireplace must meet at least one of the following criteria:

1. It is snowing outside
2. Someone throws up
3. Someone is thrown up upon

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

OK, I have a beef to make. Actually, more of a bread. An Amish Cinnamon “Friendship” Bread to be exact. If you’re not familiar with friendship bread, it is kind of like one of those annoying chain letters that curses you 1000 years if you break the chain. Now, just insert a fermenting bread base that you fondle for two weeks before if finally makes anything and there you have it.

I am currently on Day 4 of my Friendship Bread, which was given to me by someone I formerly considered my friend. My responsibility today was to “Squeeze bag.” This was the same as yesterday. And the day before. And it will be the same tomorrow. On Day 6, I’ll have the exciting task of adding sugar, flour and milk and then I’ll get to (you guessed it) “Squeeze bag” for the next several days. It isn’t until DAY 10 that I’ll finally get to bake the stuff. By then, do you even think I’ll care about the STUPID bread!? Just give it to me ALREADY BAKED!!!

My only comfort is I’ll then be able to distribute the bread base to four more of my “friends” and the chain will continue. Only for me, I wouldn’t put my worst enemy through this process. So if you are one of the recipients of “Amber’s Adversary Bread,” be worried. Very worried.

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

In the infamous words of ABBA:

“Mama Mia, Here We Go Again.”

Yep, I am with child a second time around and am due in July. The hottest month of the year. When 98 Degrees is not just a has-been boy band. My hubby Jamie is already saving money for the air-conditioning bills. And earplugs. To think I thought I was overheated when giving birth to Hurricane Hadley in May last time around….

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

Thanks to the many well-wishers out there regarding our Baby #2 announcement! We’re thrilled and full of trepidation at the same time. Thrilled because it’s such an honor and a privilege. Full of trepidation because we have barely survived our 18-month-long Hurricane. Case in point: Check out my “Stork Report” from Hurricane Hadley; a bit lengthy but definitely worth the WILD ride (and I’m not just talkin’ about them thar stir-ups….)

Monday, May 24th, 2004–More than one week before Hadley’s due date.
Busy making final preps on the new house until late. Jamie is incredibly stressed with projects at work and yearns to skip out. His final words to Hadley before bedtime: “If you come tomorrow, I’ll buy you a car when you’re 16.” Daddy’s final lesson before becoming a parent: be careful what you wish for. It may actually come true.

Tuesday, May 25th-
1, 3, 5 and 6 a.m.–As usual, Amber waddles her way to the potty.7 a.m.–Waddles to the bathroom. Discovers something unusually wet–her water possibly broke! Calls the doc who tells them to come in. Jamie rejoices about starting his two-week “vacation.” The reality of his car pledge later hits him with great force.
9 a.m.–Meet with the doc. Performs various tests. Bag of waters is ruptured with a leak but is not broken. Evil woman sends Amber and Jamie home.
10 a.m.–Amber and Jamie go on long walk (a.k.a. waddle), hoping to kick things into motion. Steady leak continues but no real progress.
11:45 a.m.–Decide to grab a sandwich at Einstein Bagels. After eating, Amber blows her nose. Suddenly, the flood gates open. In very public booth #3 at Einstein’s. At lunchtime. Amber hisses at Jamie to discreetly grab her some napkins to cleanup. Jamie obliges and brings back two napkins, not understanding that bag of waters is in actuality, plural. Meaning many.
12:30 p.m.–After operation “Cleanup in Booth 3,”Amber casually strolls (a.k.a. waddles with soaked pants) to the Jeep. They rush to the hospital. Jamie drops her off with a grocery bag of personal items. He proceeds to park the car and bring in the luggage.
12:45 p.m.–As Amber stealthily walks up to the nurse’s station, she notes her appearance: soaked black sweats, unruly hair and a Wal-Mart bag for luggage: White Trash Incarnate. Jamie arrives with the rest of the luggage, announcing to the nurses: “Has anyone seen a strawberry-blonde with wet pants?” They chortle delightfully, later avowing his statement will go down as the funniest entrance in Birthing Center History. What a crackup.
1 p.m.-5 p.m.–Amber put on Pitocin (also known as “Pit”) to induce labor. Later discovers it is actually the “pits”. Light contractions begin but she can barely feel them and spends the afternoon watching Dr. Phil and Oprah with Jamie. Wonders what all those wimpy women have been whining about for centuries re: the “pains of childbirth.”
5:30 p.m.–Discovers what those “wimpy women” were talking about. The hard way. Now wonders why women would knowingly choose to do this multiple times.
6 p.m.–Excruciating Pain Con’t. Jamie compares Amber to Jekyl and Hyde. Cracking jokes and delightful…until the contractions hit. Jamie does a fabulous job as coach. Is instrumental in helping Amber Hyde maintain her composure.
7 p.m.–Amber’s best friend Mimi the Epidural Lady arrives. About 7 excruciating contractions later than requested. Amber practices the Miracle of Forgiveness. But not until after the drug kicks in.
7:30 p.m.–Amber is a new woman and plays the waiting game until full dilation. Jamie and Amber have a delightful time talking travel with the doc and nurse. Amber ponders the mysteries of life i.e. why anyone would chose not to get an epidural. Equates it to the lunacy of climbing Everest without oxygen.
10:15 p.m.–Starts pushing. Ouch.
11:05 p.m.–Everest attained. With oxygen. But the views are nonetheless spectacular! Beautiful Hadley arrives pretty and pink. Mom Amber now understanding why women do this multiple times. Dad Jamie still worried about that new car he owes his obedient daughter…

And thus began our tale of living “Happily Ever After!” (or would that be sleepless?…)

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