Disclosure Statement

This blog is a personal blog written and edited by Amber Johnson. This blog accepts forms of cash advertising, sponsorship, paid insertions or other forms of compensation.

The compensation received will never influence the content, topics or posts made in this blog. All advertising is in the form of advertisements generated by a third party ad network. Those advertisements will be identified as paid advertisements.

The owner(s) of this blog is not compensated to provide opinion on products, services, websites and various other topics. The views and opinions expressed on this blog are purely the blog owners. If we claim or appear to be experts on a certain topic or product or service area, we will only endorse products or services that we believe, based on our expertise, are worthy of such endorsement. Any product claim, statistic, quote or other representation about a product or service should be verified with the manufacturer or provider.

The owner(s) of this blog would like to disclose the following existing relationships. These are companies, organizations or individuals that may have a significant impact on the content of this blog. We are employed by or consult with: Pixo Web Design & Strategy, Nintendo, The Denver Post, Colorado Ski Country USA, Park City Mountain Resort, Frigidaire and Microsoft.

Next Christmas: The Crazy Canuck Clan Goes Nekkkkid

Christmas Eve was an array of more appetizers and desserts than you could count…or eat.

Christmas morning was a brunch with cream cheese crepes, pancakes, a chocolate French brioche and our newest tradition: the artery clogging, holier-than-holy bacon taco.

Christmas dinner was turkey with allllll the fixings topped off with cheesecake and homemade Olympia cremes.

After our 24-hour eat-a-thon, my brother Pat and his wife Jane clutched their expanding waistlines and groaned.

Pat: “I just knew I shouldn’t have worn pants today.”

Jane: “Rookie mistake, Pat. Rookie mistake.”

A Merry Christmas Reminder From Bode

Bode. His sister monopolizes this blog. She is larger than life, stubborn, hilarious and independent. Her antics keep us laughing and humble us to our knees.

And then there is Bode. From Day 1, he was different. He was a snuggler who desperately needed to be connected to those he loved most. As he grows older, he is excitable and funny yet very sober and intense. And perceptive. He is always the first to console me when I’m sad, wiping away my tears with his blankie. Lately, our morning ritual of cuddling up together in bed consists of him asking me to sing Christmas songs to him as he gazes at me in wonderment.

He is the first person who has ever asked me to sing.

Of course, this is not shocking to anyone who has actually heard me do it.

On Jamie’s birthday, we rented Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. If you’re not familiar with these movies based on C.S. Lewis’ books, they are held in the fictional realm of Narnia. Is is a place where animals talk and magic is common as Christian theological symbols abound.

That afternoon, I put Bode down for a nap and Jamie, Hadley and I snuggled up to watch the movie. Bode woke up near the very end just as Aslan the Lion made his appearance.

Bode sat right up, pointed at Aslan and said, “Jesus.”

We didn’t think much of it and I tried to correct him and said, “Bode, Aslan is a lion.”

He shook his head emphatically, pointed again and said, “Dat is Jesus.”

And then it struck me. Aslan is the rightful ruler of Narnia. He sacrifices himself to spare Edmund in the first book, but is resurrected in time to aid the citizens of Narnia. Aslan is C.S. Lewis’ symbol of Christ.

“Bode, are you familiar with archetypes?” Jamie jokingly queried.

Bode ignored him and stated his case again. This time, we were sold.

And reminded of the scripture “And a little child shall lead them.”

A Merry Christmas to you all as we celebrate our Savior’s birth this season!

Give the Gift of Death This Holiday Season

Money is tight for many of my family members this year. So instead of giving each other gifts we don’t really need that we will then exchange for gifts we really want, my sister-in-law Jane came up with a plan.

“This year, we will give each other experiences!” she announced. She then expounded this would entail spending time doing some kind of memorable activity together.

I loved the idea. I never know what to get most members of my family and building memories seemed like a much better alternative.

Unless they are bad memories.

When Jane made her proclamation, I had visions of being treated to a night out without the children (with free babysitting included, of course). It could be a play, a movie, a fancy dinner or even a walk down by the river. We would laugh, we would bond and we would well, build memories.

But then she dropped the bomb: “Your brother Pat and I thought it would be fun for you and [my husband] Jamie to go to Ripped with us.”

I hesitated. Anything with the word “ripped” could not be good. I figured it was either a seedy hangout or a killer workout, both of which might ultimately lead me to R.I.P.

I hesitatingly followed up: “Just what exactly is Ripped?” She confirmed it was her town’s most kick-butt workout at the local gym. A workout that had her seeing stars within the first 15 minutes.

A rather appropriate symbol for this Christmas season, wouldn’t you agree?

Now, I’m not some kind of a wimp. Many of you followed my journey with Front Range Adventure Boot Camp for Women and my New Year’s resolution is to conjoin myself with that trainer’s life-changing new program at Foothills CrossFit, a fitness phenomenon that is sweeping the country.

It’s just that I’m not quite Ripped yet. And I really want to have enough energy to lift my fork from my plate to my mouth during Christmas dinner.

I have my priorities, you know.

I knew Jamie would be even less thrilled about the prospect. Our Wii Fit recently accused him of being a Couch Potato. Instead of persevering, he indifferently shrugged his shoulders and went back to his computer.

And so this holiday season, I encourage you to relish in the materialistic world. Give presents, eat food, show love. But just don’t give “experiences.”

Then again, nothing says Christmas like the gift of death.

The economic downturn hits home

If I were to look back on 2008, I would it was the year of ebbs and tides. Our little family has had a multitude of blessings and not a day has passed that I did not feel infinitely blessed. That I kissed and snugged them. That I laughed at their antics and marveled at who they are becoming.

But this has also been the year of job stress.

Jamie’s consulting gig recently came to an abrupt halt when his client (who has been past due on hundreds of thousands of dollars) declared bankruptcy. To make ends meet, Jamie’s boss had been paying him out-of-pocket to keep him around until other clients pulled through but guess what: bankruptcy is a deal breaker. Not being able to make payroll, they had to let Jamie go. They will bring him back when new clients sign on. But with the problematic economy, we don’t know if/when that will happen.

A little summary of 2008:

February–Jamie thrown under the bus and laid off by incompetent Senior VP. Receives three-month severance.
March–Applies for Unemployment Insurance. Company denies it. Goes to court vs. former boss. Jamie wins the case it was determined he was let go without just cause. Company realizes the problem was with former boss, not Jamie. She is fired.
April–Jamie starts great consulting gig.
October–Up for VP position with stock. Then came the economic downturn. Pending clients refuse to sign on until the market changes. Small company feeling pressure.

And then there is the now. This time around, I am not in as much shock. I just feel tired and worried he will not be able to find anything in this crummy economy. I don’t care if he makes the big bucks. I just want security.

Is there even such a thing anymore?

Jamie’s parents dropped a bombshell: they want to sell their house and move to Utah. Fortunately, everything is on hold and we are relieved. If they were like many in-laws, I would willingly show them the door. But they’re not. They are the most important people in our lives and I don’t know what we will do without them. Our two main reasons for being in Colorado were them and a good job.

This recent development has expanded our job searches to out-of-state.

This is a tough one for me to say. I love Colorado. I love our home we have slaved over. And I love our life most of all. Of course, moving is a last resort but I keep reminding myself that a house is just a house and we will find friends and adventure anywhere we go.That if we are going to move, now would be a great time while the kids are young. I just hate the uncertainty.

On a positive note, recent developments have not affected our Christmas spirit. On the contrary. The lights seem so much brighter, my children more delightful and the true meaning of the holiday burns deep. It hasn’t been about focusing on what we do not have but rather, what we have. And we have a lot. I only need to turn on the news to see there are many people much worse off than us.

This Christmas, I will be counting my blessings.

My $1,000 Christmas Almond Rocha Recipe (and let’s hear your favorites!)

So, I’m busy. Really busy. And like most of you, life won’t calm down until after the holidays and that is when I will begin posting more regularly again.

Christmas Baking Week is upon me. I approach it each year with great alacrity, as Christmas Baking Week = Christmas Eating Week.

My bakefest generally consists of egg nog snickerdoodles, cream cheese cutout cookies, homemade chocolate suckers, caramel toffee squares, sugar ‘n spice cookies, white chocolate snowball swirl cookies, vanilla fudge and of course, my $1,000 Almond Rocha. Not familiar with the latter item? Let me take you back, back, back to this infamous recipe’s christening.

About seven years ago, I was having major problems with a certain tooth (that still gives me headaches toothaches today) and had pumped more than $1,000 into it. First, there was the root canal. Then the crown. Then the painful abscess. Then the retreatment surgery. Then the filling to repair the retreatment. I had just had what I thought was my final appointment.

Until I started my Christmas baking and made Almond Rocha. 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.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear? But my tooth. Not my crown, but the actual, veritable tooth. I reacted as one would expect: I let out a blood-curdling scream. My roommates at the time came running and offered their horror and sympathy.

And then they proceeded to eat the rest of my $1,000 Almond Rocha in front of me, with all their teeth in tact.

That Christmas, there was coal in their stockings.

And a tooth or two.

Win a Wii and a Wii Fit!

It’s not too often I cross-promote my contests on Mile High Mamas but I would just love to see one of you win my Wii and Wii Fit giveaway! Mention it on your blog and you may enter as many as five times!

I’m also giving away Horton Hears a Who and Fly Me to the Moon DVDs.

Because I’m a giver like that.

For contest details, go here.

Happy Birthday to Hunky Hubby!

It is ma honey’s birthday today. Some people would say that he puts up with a lot having me as his wife.

And they would be correct.

But it goes both ways.

He demonstrated his obsession during our recent annual gingerbread house decorating contest at Grandma’s. Oh wait. I forgot. Pacifist Grandma always corrects us that “this is all about family bonding and it is not a contest.”

Yeah, right.

Any guesses as to which house he decorated with Bode? Hint: The front yard is very telling.

1)

2)

3)

Happy birthday to my wonderful husband who is never boring.

Well, except for when he drones on and on about poultry compost, alfalfa meal, bone meal, green sand, humic acid, organic 10-5-5 fertilizer with calcium, tree leaves, elemental sulphur, peat moss and aluminum sulphate….

XOXOXXOXO
Amber

Wii Fit Partying, Oprah-style

Just who are these girls–

And why is he cheering?

What’s up with this shot

Evidently, there’s just no rhyme or reason….


Find out all the sordid details of The Party of the Year and why I have been christened the new Oprah.

==

‘Twas a few weeks before Christmas, when all through my place,

Several creatures were stirring as they didst race.

Nintendo had come and a Wii Fit Party they did throw,

For 10 of my friends…for what they did not know.

They thought it was to eat and to laugh and to play.

As Wii Fit rudely divulged we were “unbalanced” that day.

Wii Fit’s elves brought not only games but goodies galore
With smoothies, chicken skewers and healthy snacks…but there was more.

For my friends, in fearing a healthy evening without treats
Brought cookies, brownies and pumpkin pie to eat.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of ski jumping and hoola hoops danced in our heads.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But four tiny Wii Fit elves, grinning ear-to-ear.

I said, “Now, Sylvia! Now, Bonnie! Now, Julia and Kat!
This Eve has been perfect. You just can’t top that.”

But top it they did as they unloaded their haul:wiifitladies

Yoga outfits and mats and a Wii Fit for all.

There was hugging and there was much screaming galore,

I was heralded as Oprah and was thanked for their score.

My eyes — how they twinkled! My dimples were deep!

As promises of lunches and free babysitting I didst reap.

I laughed to myself because I knew the giving was not done
For my Mile High Mamas were certainly deserving of such fun.

And so I announce it here, now and this day:
Within seven nights, we will hold a Wii and Wii Fit giveaway!

Rest assured, this is true and it is not a trick
I may not be Oprah but you can call me Saint Nick.


A mom blog tutorial on organizing for the organizer

Thank you thank you thank for your sage advice re: Hadley’s potty training relapse. Sage as in “wise,” not the color (though it is one of my favorites).

I don’t think it is a medical issue because she only does it at home or at Grandma’s. And she has gotten worse since I last wrote. A contributing factor could be that we are experiencing an inordinate amount of stress that I’ll get into later. We haven’t disclosed anything to the kids but they’re perceptive little things. Maybe Mommy’s veins that are bulging out of her head are a good indicator.

I am having a professional organizer come over on Monday for a two-hour consultation for my kitchen. I am doing a giveaway on Mile High Mamas in January for a free session with this consultant. And in order to write my review, I need to see her work.

And she will see mine and how my kitchen is a piece of work.

Is it counterproductive to organize your kitchen before the professional organizer comes over?

I dreamt the other night that I was dismayed when she showed up early, only to find me wearing a sexy piece of ling*erie I haven’t been able to fit into since second grade.

Not that I was wearing that kind of thing back then.

But at least I could have fit into it.

And this, my friends, about summarizes my state of mind these days. So, comfort me. What’re you dreaming about these days? And am I the only one who feels like I’m drowning?