Mile High Mamas Monday

March 10, 2008 By

Ever had a trip that went terribly wrong?

That was actually my shtick back when I was a travel writer. Because every trip went terribly wrong in some way.

Like the time I boasted to my friend John that I had packed for our trip to Southern Utah in less than 10 minutes, only to discover I had forgotten the tent. No problem. It was the desert and clear temperatures were in the forecast.

It rained (those sordid details are here).

Last week was no different. Jamie and I decided to take the kids on a mid-week trip to YMCA of the Rockies, my absolute favorite destination in Colorado. Seriously. If you are planning a vacation here and want something beautiful yet affordable, this is the place.

Unless you get snowed out like we did. And end up leaving your winter paradise a day early….

Tune into Mile High Mamas on Monday for all the details and tell me about when your vacations went terribly wrong. Just to make me feel better.

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Hands down, my favorite Colorado getaway is YMCA of the Rockies. I have been to the Estes Park Center once in the summer and we recently went on our third getaway to Snow Mountain Ranch in the wintertime.

It is tough to qualify why I love YMCA of the Rockies so much. The cabins and lodges are extremely affordable but very basic; the facilities are plentiful but worn. It has more to do with the abundance of activities, the majestic Rocky Mountain backdrop and the sentiment you are in a magical place that truly celebrates family.

Unless you happen to visit during a huge snowstorm on a weekday.

Our latest trip started as fabulously as any other.

Last Monday, we checked into our three-bedroom cabin, consumed about 2,000 calories and then decided to go for a walk to burn about 30 of them off. We made snow angels, raced down the slopes and breathed in the crisp air.

Later, we went to the Kiva Center – land of indoor recreation – and were thrilled to have the place to ourselves. We shot some hoops, flexed our ping-pong chops, peppered the volleyball and I gave my 3-year-old daughter Hadley her second roller-skating tutorial.

I then went for a whirl around the abandoned rink. Despite the fact my Canadian parents stuck me in figure-skating lessons, I have always fancied myself a speed skater. I have it all: velocity and a speed skater’s physique.

Well, minus the muscles.

We returned to our cabin, snuggled on Haddie’s bunk bed and planned to spend the next day at the Nordic Center. We would shoot down the steep sledding hill, race around the ice-skating rink and snowshoe on the 100 km of world-class trails through pristine hollows and bowls.

Until the snow came. An overabundance of it. In its defense, the name of the place is Snow Mountain Ranch so there was full disclosure. But try telling that to someone who has a full slate of outdoor activities planned. The resort is certainly not lacking in indoor diversions but our midweek stay proved problematic in that the pool and gym didn’t open until later and the craft center was closed all together.

Instead of relishing the crunch of our snowshoes on bejeweled blankets of snow, we were relegated to playing tedious puzzles in the lobby and watching Amber is Grouchy Elmo in Grouchland in our cabin.

But we will return to play another day. Let’s just hope Snow Mountain Ranch implements rainchecks in the future.

Or at least one involving snow….

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Uncategorized

Hearts of All Ages

March 5, 2008 By

I have a shameful confession to make: I am weeks behind on my blog posts. I know none of you have never procrastinated anything in your entire lives but this lil’ post of looooove has been burning a hole in my drafts for weeks.

The Canuck Clan was invited to “Hearts of All Ages” on Valentine’s Day, a schmaltzy fundraiser for The University of Colorado’s cardio and vascular center. Part of the excitement was our $400 tickets were comped and local celebrities such as Pete Coors and the mayor were in attendance.

But the main excitement was when some of my friends delivered Valentines prior to departure. I swung open the door in my spiffy dress as if to say Look, I am showered! It truly was the highlight of my day. Rubbing it in; not the shower.

I loved this event because it was designed for families. They had a clown, kid’s
craft area, balloonist, face painting and dancing. Lo, did we dance. They also touted “gourmet children’s food” as the fare de choix. Note to the wise: this is an oxymoron. I don’t care how beautifully pigs in a blanket are displayed. They are just that: pork in dough.

There were so many enjoyable things about the evening. Getting our faces painted….

Getting down with Bubby on the dance floor.

Hadley and Jamie showing off their moves.

But my favorite was when all the children were invited on-stage with the band. Of course, Bode clung to me like a baby koala while my other little exhibitionist brazenly made her debut. But [gasp] they had the nerve to stick her in the back, far from the limelight. Jamie and I chuckled, waiting to see how this would be received.

Not well.

Before long, she had shoved her way to the microphone as one of the back-up singers. And then she was in the very front, grooving in her memorable non-rhythmic way. But then, right in the middle of the song as all eyes were on her, there was this:

I call it her “Big Break….”

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Uncategorized

Dental Drama of a Nauseated Mama

March 3, 2008 By

My dental drama is finally over. Or at least my insurance is maxed out so that possible root canal will just have to wait.

For those who need a refresher, I went to the dentist after having Hadley (my firstborn) and discovered my Pukefest-for-a-Pregnancy had produced approximately 500 cavities. We started Operation Rotfest Repair but then found out I was pregnant with Bode so we had to hold off.

When I finally went back after Pukefest-for-a-Pregnancy No. 2, my cavities had blossomed into root canals and crowns, a veritable garden of decay in my mouth. This, for the girl who religiously brushes and flosses daily and who never even had a cavity until high school.

I have spent thousands of dollars repairing my teeth and countless hours shuffling between the endodentist and dentist. Tuesday was my final appointment. I have the drill down (pun intended) and have had the same room and dental assistant from the get-go. I was settling into my luxury recliner when a newbie walked in.

“Where is Pat?” I demanded, concerned over the disappearance of my favorite probing assistant.
“She is busy with someone else,” Newbie replied.

An office affair? I never imagined I would be the scorned lover. And so I was left with this, this, this virgin. One who did not understand I like to read my smut hard-news magazines throughout the entire appointment and that my salivary glands are the healthiest on the planet.

Translation: she would have to eternally use the spit-sucker because I have an overabundance of the “nectar of the gods.”

At least that is what the kissing book I gave my college freshman boyfriend called it.

After two hours of spit sucking, drilling and removing my sense of dignity as I was reduced to a drooling invalid, I limped out of there. One of my cavities’ depth loomed close to a nerve so I was forewarned I would have possible complications and a future root canal.

“Possible complications” was an understatement. Seven hours later, my lip was still numb, throbbing and three times its size. My daughter sympathetically observed, “Mommy, you have monster mouth.”

Hubby was more diplomatic. “You look just like Angelina Joie with those lips.”

Yeah, without the sultry pout and slinky legs. Lucky me.

The ailments continued to bedtime. Ever the concerned husband, he gave me some pain killers to knock me out. Only it had the adverse effect.

11 p.m. “Wow, I feel GREATTTTTTTTT!”
1 a.m. “Is this stuff supposed to make me feel like I am on Speeeeeeed?”
3 a.m. “Did you know there are 1,535 dots on the ceiling?”
4 a.m. The medicine finally wore off and I passed out.
6 a.m. Bode woke up. You do the math.

So for for now, I am relieved to say my dental drama is over.

At least until Pukefest-for-a-Pregnancy No. 3.

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