Jamie works for a large, established company here in Denver and is up for The Big Daddy of All Promotions: the director position. He had has first interview a couple of weeks ago and it went well. Admittedly, I’ve been rather conflicted and have been half supporting, half dreading the final outcome.

Jamie currently has a stable managerial position with good pay and reasonable hours (well, if you consider 11-hour days reasonable). If he landed this new job, it would mean more money, more hours and way more stress. My vehicle, Girlie Jeep, is near death so the extra funds would go towards a car payment but in the end, is it all really worth it if he gets home so late that I can’t announce “TAKE YOUR CHILDREN NOW!!!!” the moment he walks in the door, much like the I-need-a-break meltdown I had last night. Where’s the fun in that?

Y’see, I am of the mindset that I’d rather have my husband around than have more money. But by the same token, I know he is so capable of doing great things and I don’t want to hold him back. And even though he refuses to use spell-check or let me edit his blog, I still think he’s pretty dang brilliant and is the most qualified person for the job, whether the VP doing the hiring acknowledges that or not.

And so here’s confessional time. Would you rather wake up to find your neck has grown five inches longer –or– that your rear end has doubled in size?

Oh wait. Wrong question. Would you rather have your significant other make more money and be around less or the other way around?

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

As for Bode, welp, he’s my testament of just how colicky and difficult Haddie really was as a newborn. In addition to being easy going, he has this sheepish little grin that’ll win the ladies over someday. He lights up whenever Haddie comes into the room and she has affectionately nicknamed him “The Boder.” He looooves to be held and only fusses when we dare to put him down or when he’s tired and hungry (a trait he has no doubt learned from his father). And yes if you were wondering, Haddie’s marathon tantrums were more in line with her mother.

I can finally see why people like newborns. I still remember when my friends Dave and Rebecca came to stay with us last summer. Their daughter, Sienna, was only a few months old and if it were possible for the perfect baby Jesus to be reborn onto this earth, she was it. She never cried, slept like a dream, and would entertain herself for long periods of time. Because there was nothing more fascinating than gazing at the air in front of her. They would also fight over her:

“No, Dave, it’s my turn to hold Sienna.”

“Becca, you’ve had her for too long. It’s my turn.”

Don’t get me wrong. We loved the Hurricane and even fought over her. But our arguments were more along the lines of:

“No, Jamie. I’ve had her all day. Take the child NOW.”

“No way. I’ve filled my quota for the rest of my life.”

Bottom line, Jamie and I looked at the two of them like they were some disgusting, lovesick couple with unadulterated PDAs. Oh wait. That used to be us before we had The Hurricane. Coincidentally, it was Dave who christened her with that nickname. I am hoping they give birth to a tornado the next time around. It’s only fair, right?

Jamie and I tried to reason with ourselves that Sienna was a boring little slug. I mean, she just laid there and never made a peep; at least Hadley had some spunk, y’know?

However since giving birth to a slug, I have deemed it a beautiful thing. And if I could give birth to more miniature mollusks, the world would be a better place.

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

I’ve had several inquiries regarding The Children so I deemed this a good time to give some updates. More specifically, the questions were regarding my coping abilities with Said Children. I am happy to report that things are much better with them. Most specifically Hadley’s issues have been abated regarding her tantrums over everything we did, said or even thought. Yep, the kid is even a mind reader. That’s tough competition.

These days, we’ve been busy hiking, going for walks and throwing tea parties for Grandma and Grandpa (though I’m still ticked that stupid duck got all the good cookies). Oh, and pouring cash into marketing money pits for kids (otherwise known as Thomas the Train). Fortunately, we are not the suckers on the latter point but it was Grandma who paid $16 a ticket to ride around in Thomas for a whopping 15 minutes on Saturday. This is why grandparents have been put on the earth.

Of course, things had to hit rock bottom first before they got better and everything bottomed out a couple of weekends ago. After the obstinate little thing spent pretty much the entire day in timeout, Jamie and I decided we needed an intervention. Obviously, discipline wasn’t working so we tried an approach you’ll find only in Amber’s Guide to Toddler Tantrums: we stuffed her with sugar and transfats. Simply translated: we set her loose at McDonald’s.

And do you know what? It worked and she’s been much more manageable ever since. The prospect of ordering anything she wanted was the highlight.

“Shake shake?” she queried.

“Yep!”

“French fries and hamburger?” (toddler translation: “Not those sorry excuses for fast food: apple dippers and grilled chicken, right?”)

“Anything you want!”

Fortunately, she stopped there and didn’t press her luck, like the time when she special-requested “Naked Boys.” Last I checked, they weren’t on the menu, though it did give a disturbing glimpse into the dark recesses of those Playland tunnels….

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

I didn’t want it to come to this: the war of the keys. But Hunky Hubby’s latest post just begs a confrontation. He couldn’t just let my Murphy’s Law negligence over forgetting the cabin key drop. I stand by my story. I only knew of one key. I had noticed the other tie-die key on the counter but assumed it was a new one to his office. Because they are just that hip to have tie-die keys for their employees.

Jamie has a sordid history with keys and it began on our honeymoon in Costa Rica. We were at Tabacon, a gorgeous area with active volcanoes. We stayed in a charming hamlet with our own private patio and yard where we could watch the volcano erupt. That first night, I was experiencing eruptions of a different sort–the kind that Montezuma’s revenge brings. The perfect addition to any honeymoon.

Jamie was on the back porch when I dragged my sorry body from the bed to join this once-in-a-lifetime view. The air outside was dripping with humidity while the air conditioning inside was cranked to icebox temperatures. For this reason, I closed the door behind me. We enjoyed the view for a few minutes until I decided I’d had enough. I went to let myself in…and realized the door had automatically locked behind me.

Because I was sick and in my PJs, my gallant new husband volunteered to crawl over the bushes, traverse the sharp volcanic rock pathway in bare feet and get a spare key from the lobby. His journey took him more than a half hour. When he finally made it back, I heard him run the keycard and walk through the door. He then proceeded to put the keycard down on the television, walk over to the deck, and ask what he missed, just as he closed the door behind him. From there, everything was in slow motion as I leapt for the door, with a resounding “Don’t shut the doooooor” and then “SLAM!”

We sat there, shocked. Then laughter erupted louder than the volcano. Jamie waited for a while before making his journey back again. The guy at the front desk gave him a strange look but said nothing. Come to think of it, I got the same look last weekend….

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

Everybody got naaaaaaaaked!!!!

He loved snuggling with strange women.

But he was a bit alarmed at seeing the impact of being the only boy in a playgroup of girls had on the token “stud,” Nolan. We all were….

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

In keeping with this week’s inappropriate theme for the eyes of family and young friends (all of whom are closet readers), allow me to share one last story. When Jamie and I were on our honeymoon in Costa Rica, we stayed at this gorgeous inn right on the beach. For the first few days, we had the place to ourselves. And believe me, after three decades of good Mormon livin’ (a.k.a. abstinence), we wanted to be by ourselves.

Enter: The Child. The owner’s daughter. The one who babbled incessantly and would not leave us alone. By the end of our sojourn, we had not-so affectionately nicknamed her “Little Birth Control.”

Little did I know I gave birth to her, reincarnated. As you know, The Hurricane has been more tempestuous than ever lately. Jamie and I were recently discussing our form of birth control and he tossed it over to me.

This alerted Hadley that I had something. That she didn’t have.

She raced over to me and at the top of her lungs, hollered, “I need it!”

“You’d better not need it!”

“Mommy! I need it NOW!”

“No! Do you know what this is called? B-i-r-t-h c-o-n-t-r-o-l. (Note: If Jamie can discuss the ‘O’ word, I figured I could throw out this new addition to her vocabulary)

“GIVE HADDIE NOW!” And she then proceeded to throw the biggest drag-down tantrum imaginable.

Without missing a beat, I calmly pointed to her and replied, “And that is exactly why I need it.”

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

My mention of Jamie’s baited anticipation for my six-week postpartum checkup brought about some colorful and entertaining comments last week. This inspired him to include a rebuttal on his blog.

The whole debate reinforces the many differences between men and women, particularly after children. On Hunky Hubby’s blog, I left a comment from a comedian on “Last Comic Standing” whereupon he joked that marriage doesn’t ruin your sex life, children do.

Welp, if my six-week post inspired women with leaking body parts to come up in arms, this one bonded The Other Half together. One of my most faithful and funniest commenters is a man who goes by the moniker, Serf ‘Rett. He included a warning to Jamie…and to husbands everywhere. I just wanted to pass it along to let you know They Are Fighting Back:

“Jamie warning: Do not fall for the ‘kids ruin sex life’ line. Let the serf show you the results of accepting this line of thinking. When the kids are young, you will hear ‘I’m too tired from taking care of the kids’; at preteen age it will be ‘I’m too tired due to keeping up with all the kid’s activities’; teens will cause ‘How can you be thinking about that? Aren’t you concerned for your kids?’ or ‘We can’t, the kids are still awake.’ By the time you ship the last one off to college, the first has graduated and moved back home or you’re now too old to be interested.

“I assure you the intimate relationships are still possible when kids arrive in the home. All you need is romance, creativity and most of all a pile of money. When kids arrive, intimate relationships are no longer ‘free’. You will need to pay babysitters, bribe parents, court your spouse with special meals and new clothes, pay for motel rooms and three day vacations (without kids). Three days is the minimum vacation length, when the kids are young, since it takes two days for your spouse to detoxify from being a mom and the last day she will act like a wife. This is also about the maximum time your parents will agree to keeping your kids. The vacation time must be increased to five to seven days when the kids are teens. As you can see, kids do not ruin your sex life, they make you have to pay for it.”

To Serf ‘Rett, Jamie and husbands everywhere: “They make you have to pay for it?” There is a word for that: prostitution.

P.S. I don’t come cheap….

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