With less than one week until Easter, Haddie is still not ready. For The Easter Egg Hunt, that is. Twice she has hunted this week. Twice she has failed. Really, how difficult could it be? I hold the basket while she shovels in free food. She sure didn’t have any difficulties figuring out the Halloween begging ritual. So what’s the deal with little plastic eggs?

Plenty. Unfortunately for us, they resemble balls. In addition to pretties and makeup, Hadley is obsessed with balls. It doesn’t matter where we go or what we do. We can spend a fortune on an activity and if there is a ball present, all she does is rave about it. In the car, she likes to practice her sports savy by reciting the different techniques: “Soccer–KICK! Basketball–THROW!!” It’s like she’s feverishly cramming for a final exam and if she flunks she won’t get into ESPN heaven.

Fast-forward to her friend Ella’s Easter Party on Thursday. I figured she would be the cream of the crop because most of the kids in our playgroup are barely walking (and the other ones she can knock over with a swift elbow to their untoned Ethiopian belly.) I set her loose like a little race horse at the track. She started swiftly, strongly by grabbing everything in her wake. But then came the unanticipated obstacle: she launched the eggs and squealed “THROW! HIGH!” And down came the rain of candy as they splattered all over the place. She grabbed a few morsels and would race off to her next “ball” before I could contain her. At least she was fast.

Saturday’s community egg hunt wasn’t much better but I had hope because competition-obsessed Jamie was there to help. He carried her to the start of the hunt, all the while massaging her “Hammies” to ensure her legs were in superior working order. He then instructed her on the fine art of grabbing and [if necessary] stealing. Gotta prepare her for the harsh realities of life, he reasoned.

The hunt was strategically located in a playground…the perfect locale for any kid who lacked focus and drive. Haddie was one of those kids. “Slide! Swing! Swim!” she kept longingly pointing out. “FOCUS!” we kept drilling into her but you’d think she was almost 2 or something–all she wanted to do was play. She was up on the slide when the hunt commenced, typical of someone lacking in commitment. Jamie grabbed her and threw her into the competition. She didn’t even start strong on this one. She had tried to grab a few eggs before the start but when it came time, she just froze like a bunny in headlights. When she finally got her nerve up, she bent over and rocketed an egg across the field of play as the other kids flocked around.

Desperately, I started shoveling eggs towards her. “Pick them up!” I screamed. We were losing. But she didn’t care. Within minutes, all the “pretty balls” were gone. And all we had to show for the hunt were a few eggs filled with crappy Tootsie Rolls and Smarties; the least they could have done was award our efforts with chocolate. And eggs that looked a lot less like balls.

Not that Hadley complained. In fact, she even requested they have basketball hoops next year to increase the level of difficulty.

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

Jamie has a lot of perks at his job, which usually manifest themselves by way of concert or sporting event tickets. The other day, his boss gave him tickets for the Rockies game. I am not usually a baseball fan but make the exception when I can sit in the cushy company suite and gorge myself on baseball fare. Only this time, we weren’t given suite tickets but rather the CEO’s $135 seats behind home-plate.

The only thing we were bummed about was the lack of free food at our disposal. So, we arrived early and downed a crappy Rockies dog (Jamie) and a chipotle chicken sandwich (me). Twenty bucks later, we made our way down to our seats. Down, down, down. We just kept going and going until we reached a little gated-off area and were shocked as we continued to the floor. Our seats were on row 2, directly behind the team owner.

As we got ready to settle in, an usher told us we needed to grab some wristbands and dinner was waiting for us in the clubhouse. Huh? We did as we were told, winding through the tunnel until we came upon an oasis of fine-dining right there below the stadium. Mounds of food in a complimentary gourmet buffet were presented to us–seared salmon, succulent steak, epicurean salads, delicious veggies, and a sensuous dessert bar that never ended. Jamie and I took one look at each other in disgust at having just forked over $20 for a sub-par mezzanine meal and proceeded to devour everything in sight.

When we eventually finished, the game had already started. Once in our seats,a waiter approached and gave us yet another menu–this time detailing free food items from the all-you-can eat grill and snack bar: burgers, pizza,brats, nachos, ice cream. The list went on. ‘Twas quite the eye-opening experience re: how the upper tier lives. While you’re mortaging yourself for a hotdog, they’re livin’ the high life.

We barely made it out of the game. Oh yeah, the game. I think we lost. But I was too busy staring at the rock on the owner’s trophy wife’s hand and ordering “a double” Ben & Jerry’s Sundae Cup. After this experience, forget my Canuckian roots as a hockey devotee; Take Me Out to (or would that be roll me out of) the Ball Game….

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

My week started out pretty typical. Haddie and I always kick start our day by doing two aerobics programs on TV: Denise Austin and Body Electric. Saying I do two programs makes me sound like a buff pregnant lady but be ye not deceived because:

1) I evily fast-forward through the commercials as Denise annoyingly chirps, “Now don’t you stop, I’ll be right back!!” and I always skip the cool-downs as well. It’s my own private rebellion.
2) I figure that my half-hour workout plus whatever cardio I get during the day probably burns about 300 of the 8,000 daily calories I’m consuming.

So, my friend Tina and I went for a long walk on Tuesday for the cardio-portion of my day. We stopped to let the kids play in the park afterwards, during which time I took a potty break. As usual. Only problem is, there was some blood, which many as you know is NOT good when pregnant. There wasn’t a lot of it but just enough for me to call the doc who insisted on seeing me that afternoon.

I honestly wasn’t too worried about a miscarriage because I could still feel the baby squirming around and I didn’t have any cramping or other such symptoms. And I was right. She did an ultrasound to make sure everything is in working order, during which time we got a CLEAR view that I am, indeed having a boy (but this didn’t stop me from calling Jamie and nearly gave him a heart attack when I told him the opposite–payback).

As it turns out, I have a bacterial infection and they prescribed some antibiotics. The other problems is that my placenta is the the wrong place against my cervix, which is causing the bleeding and could cause pre-term labor. For this reason, she scheduled me for another ultrasound with the tech on Friday. Just to be safe, she told me to limit my activities until after my ultrasound.

“So, you mean I can’t go on that hike in Boulder I was planning tomorrow?” I joked.

“Certainly not!!!” she snapped with a steely glare. She then added, “Oh, and no intercourse, either.”

“Bummer. Hey, can I get that in writing?”

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

Jamie was home sick recently when he announced to me, “Today is officially the worst day of my life!”

The worst day ever? Worse than when he got cancer? Had heart surgery? Had his heart broken by one of those worthless girls he dated before me?

Concerned, I responded, “That’s horrible! What has happened?”

He then pointed to The Hurricane. “Not only does she dominate the remote but she has an opinion about what I can and cannot watch. My History Channel has now been replaced by Ernie and Tinky Winky.”

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

I’ve had many concerned inquiries re: Haddie’s reaction to her Binky’s “vacation.” So here’s the 12-step program our little addict has been undergoing this week.

Day 1: Jamie did the “snip-snip.” No, this is not in reference to the procedure he will reluctantly undergo when our child-bearing years have passed. But rather, he snipped the end off of Binky. We then left it out in an obvious place and waited with baited breath as she approached. Predictably, she jumped right on it, as she often does when she makes a non-sleepytime Binky discovery. But after a few sucks, she took it out to observe, and then tried to put it in her mouth in a few different positions (sideways, backwards, etc.) She then made the proclamation “Broke” and threw it on the ground. We thought that was the end of it. We were wrong.

When it came nap-time, that is where the true levels of her addiction were revealed. Not only did she lay hysterically in my arms for almost two hours, she was just like a heroin addict going into withdrawals. Her entire body shaking, she screeched, “Binky, binky, binky” over and over again. It took everything that was in me to not give in as I kept picturing them mocking her at her High School Graduation ceremonies if she was still sucking on that thing.
Day 2: Nightmarish Nap-time Part II. Haddie makes her first suicide attempt. I put her in her crib after a half hour of snuggles and comforting her, with the resolve to let her cry it out. This seemed to be working. Until I heard the loud BAM! in the next room. I rushed in there and yep, she had launched out of her crib for the first time with a big ol’ goose egg to show for it. She claimed in no uncertain terms that life was not worth living if she couldn’t have Binky. There were no naps that day, either.

Day 3: Same pattern: snuggles, cry it out (with the prayer she would not launch out of her crib), only this time she went to sleep. Well, for only 15 minutes mind you. She started crying and though I was tempted to let her fuss it out, maternal instinct took over and I went in. She was covered from head-to-toe in her own vomit. Possibly part of the withdrawal program as she puked up almost two year’s worth of plastic inhalation? I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening cleaning up her incessant puke and diarrhea fest. Seven loads of laundry later, I passed out at the end of the night.

Day 4: Grandma Day. THANKFULLY. I was a nervous wreck and after going for a hike (a.k.a. Pregnant Lady Waddle) to relieve my stress, I spent the afternoon sleeping.

Day 5: Went down with little fuss and only asked for Binky periodically throughout the day.

Day 6: Now only speaks fondly of Binky, like he was a dear, dear friend from her distant past. Until Baby comes along and the thefts begin.

Inevitably, To Be Continued….

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