A Utah Family Travel Writer's Adventures with Altitude
One of my favorite parts of Christmastime is introducing my kids to all of my favorite holiday shows. On Saturday, I was working on my laptop while distractedly watching “Frosty Returns” with the kids.
Someone on the television broke into an off-key song.
“He’s a terrible singer,” I observed.
Hadley (totally offended): “You’re talking about FROSTY.”
Good thing it wasn’t Santa.
Despite the fact I’m familiar with many of the cutting-edge social media technologies, I am often hesitant to adopt them because I’m already too busy with blogging, Twitter, Facebook and my iPhone.
However, my latest obsession Pinterest.com has surpassed them all.
And believe me, that’s really saying something.
I’ve gone from being a bored cook to being constantly inspired to try the onslaught of new, fabulous recipes. The endless barrage of crafts and styles motivate me to action and I am completely addicted to the holiday section where I have found a collection of the most innovative, creative and delicious offerings on the Web that are updated every second.
But, I’m getting ahead of myself here. If you’re CLICK HERE TO READ ON AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM
On Saturday, there was a huge fire at my childhood home. My dad was in the garage and had climbed up into the rafters to retrieve their Christmas decorations.
Something you should know about my parents: they’ve lived in that house for 43 years. My mom used to be a successful gift shop/restaurant owner and threw weddings as a side business so our house is literally chocked to the hilt with many of her treasures.
As Dad climbed up in the rafters, he used a halogen light. He made several trips into the house and forgot about the light. It didn’t take long for the decorations to ignite. Our neighbor first saw the fire, called 911 and raced over to my parent’s.
The garage was completely charred in a matter of minutes.
Three fire trucks, police and EMTs were on the scene. My niece lives on the other side of town and could see the plume of smoke from several miles away, with flames two stories high (that likely flared when the gas blew).
As many of you know, my mom is in poor health and the EMTs ushered my parents off to a neighbor’s. Nothing was salvageable: their cars, skis, bikes, skates, lawn mower, generator, extensive collection of tools and many, many irreplaceable decorations that have been in our family for years.
Though devastated and understandably rattled, my parents were unharmed and the house was untouched. They will likely spend the next several months recovering from this disaster. But there was also a miracle and it can be attributed to a tree.
In the backyard, there was a large, dead 30-feet tall pine tree adjacent to the garage. Two weeks ago, hurricane-strength 149 km/h winds pummeled Calgary, knocking the tree down. Last week, my brother Pat and my dad cut up the tree to use as firewood.
If that tree had not been removed, its dead pine needles would have instantly ignited and the rest of my parent’s yard, and then their house would have gone up in flames. It is very likely my dad would not have been able to get my mom out in time.
This time of year, I can’t help but think of the meaning behind the Christmas tree. It is a symbol of hope, of life and of light beyond what our mortal vision can grasp.
And somehow in these charred remains of what could have been a tragedy, the symbol of the evergreen’s everlasting life has never resonated more.
Today is Jamie’s birthday.
Since No. 41 is considerably less climactic than 40, our celebrations have been relatively low-key. He has a youth temple trip tonight so we celebrated yesterday at The Keg Steakhouse. I was thrilled when this top-notch Canadian chain opened in Denver a couple of years ago.
Because if there’s anything my fellow cow-townies know, it’s good beef.
(Insider tip: Sign up for their email list and you’ll receive a coupon for a free steak dinner during your birthday month).
Jamie and I were originally going to do a date night to see a movie and then go to dinner but when that fell through, we opted to bring the kids along.
Mostly because it was cheaper to bring them to the restaurant than pay for a sitter.
Children = opportunity cost.
Happy birthday to my handsome, loving, hilarious and hard-working Pumpkin Man!
XOXOX
My sister-in-law Tammy sent this video. I’d seen it a few months prior but it bears reposting.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cds7lSHawAw]
Message: drinking ain’t pretty.
Another case in point is Hangover 2. I haven’t seen this movie, nor do I have plans to see it. Jamie works closely with three cool sales executives who send him a large number of clients. As thanks, Jamie bought each of them $100 gift cards for Sullivan’s Steakhouse last year.
The three men started out at Sullivan’s and spent the remainder of the evening (and early morning) bar-hopping in LoDo (Lower Downtown). One ended up shattering his hand that later required surgery (and doesn’t remember what happened) and has no idea how he got home. As for the other two, they somehow made it back but there are big gaps in their memory.
Any other person would have opted to buy them something safe like chocolates this year but not Jamie. Once again he bought them Sullivan’s Steakhouse gift cards and presented them with this lovely Photoshopped card.
Let’s just pray there won’t be a Part III.
Now that I’m more than seven days out from the glories of my previous week, I’m starting to have some perspective on the situation.
One that does not have anything to do with toilet views.
The first several days of our Thanksgiving break were actually great. We met with our besties Tina, Nolan and Rowan at Family Sports Center, a 1500,00 square foot entertainment center in Centennial where we played ’til our heart’s content.
A favorite were the knock-down, drag-out fights in the bouncy sports arena. Do you see Hadley in the green?
Now, look to her left on the ground where you’ll see Bode in flight.
Perhaps this was a pre-cursor to busting his wrist.
But I’ll tell you what: I was astonished he could get up on that pedestal and hold that knocking block, which was 10 times his size.
His buddy Nolan was much more gracious and let Bode serve up a few wins.
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On Wednesday night, Bode showed early signs of the plague that later struck our family so on Thanksgiving day, he and Jamie opted out of our annual hike up Turkey Trot. They encouraged Haddie and I to have a girl’s morning out so after doing some food prep, we raced outta there before they could change their mind.
And raced up that mountain–it’s seriously not an easy hike.
Since it’s such a challenging and long(ish) loop, we usually only do about an hour of it to an overlook of the city. But this girl wanted to keep going. Two hours later, we arrived back at the car, exhausted and happy. I realized we are fast approaching our Benjamin Button moment. If you’re not familiar with the love story, Benjamin was born an old man and grows younger through the years. The women whom he loves is just the opposite and for a few, brief fleeting years they meet together in the middle as equals.
As Hadley blazed up that trail, I realized it’s not very long before she will be surpassing me and I will be the decrepit old woman.
As we hiked, I saw what looked like a mother and daughter. The daughter was in her mid-20s while the mom was likely in her 50s.
I pointed them out. “Do you think that can be us when you grow up, Hadley?” (brimming with pride and sentimentality).
Hadley carefully observed them before reluctantly saying, “Yeah, I guess. If you can keep up with me.”
Better enjoy it while I can.
With the holidays upon us, I realize questioning the excessive amount of toys our children have is not the most timely topic.
Or maybe there is no better time to talk about it.
When I first became a mom, I purchased toys with the same vengeance as a bull set loose in a China shop. If it looked fun, I bought it. I had every imaginable contraption available–swings, bouncers, word games, dress-up clothes, a play kitchen with all the fixins and so much more.
My children’s interests have evolved over the past six years and I recently had a good, hard look around my cluttered house, particularly the toy chest in my family room–the source of most of our household messes.
I HAD HAD ENOUGH! CLICK TO READ ON AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM
For the first few days after Bode busted his wrist, he was pretty miserable. And who can blame him? He was in a lot of pain and sleep was minimal so he required a lot of extra TLC.
But then the kid started working it.
By nature, he’s very sweet and easy going but after a few days of getting doted on, we saw a new side to Bode.
Bode: “Hadley, get me some water.”
Hadley: “I don’t want to.”
Me: “Hadley, can you please get your brother some water?”
Hadley: “FINE.” (Empathy ain’t her thing but she reluctantly brings him water.)
Bode: “You did it wrong.”
Hadley: “EXCUSE ME?”
Bode: “You’re supposed to put the ice in first, then the water. Not the other way around.”
Hadley almost busted his other arm.
Bode’s little sabbatical has also confirmed what I’ve suspected: he can be lazy. If given the opportunity, he would sit around all day playing the Wii and watching TV. But because he has me as a mother, he’s constantly on the go.
But last week was the exception and I let him laze around as much as he wanted. Hadley got bored with the routine after a few hours (yep, she’s my kid). But 11 television shows later (Hadley counted), Bode was still going strong.
He also came to me with an announcement. “When we go upstairs I’m going to tell you the new rules.”
“What kind of rules?”
“For my arm.”
I grabbed a notebook after sensing his urgency. So here they are:
Bode’s Rules
1) I can’t run to keep up with you.
2) I can’t spent too much time watching TV or playing too much.
3) I can’t go fast on a bike. I have to go slow.
4) I can’t go too far in front of you on my bike.
5) I can’t cross my arms. (This was reemphasized when Jamie asked him to say family prayers that evening. He agreed but said NO ARM CROSSING.)
6) No fighting this week.
7) I can’t go in the shower. I can go in the bath but you have to put me in.
After listing off his regulations there was a long pause, after which I asked, “So what CAN you do, Bode?” Which prompted another list.
Things I Can Do
1) I can eat.
2) I can go down.
3) I can go up.
4) I can jump.
5) I can sit.
6) I can see.
7) I can walk.
“What about picking up your toys?” I asked. “Can you still do that?”
“Yes,” he said finally. “But only softly.”
It’s gonna be a long few weeks.
Yesterday, Bode finally got patched up at the orthopedic surgeon’s. Here’s a tip for you: if you’ve ever going to break anything or get deathly ill, don’t do it over a holiday weekend because no one is around to fix it.
I had to wait until Monday to call the surgeon to schedule an appointment. Now, this was after spending several sleepless nights with The Boy as he wailed and thrashed around. We just wanted to transition to the healing process so when the scheduler told me they couldn’t fit him in for another week to get a cast, let’s just say it didn’t go over well.
The squeaky wheel wins. They “miraculously” found me an opening at a location up north.
When we arrived, I had Bode help me fill out his paperwork, which was about the funniest thing I could have done. When I queued how it happened, he replied:
“I stood on the crate and den I fell.
He was the youngest in the orthopedic office by about 60 years so everyone fawned over him, especially the staffers when they offered him a cookie and he brought me a heart-shaped one. The kid’s a charmer, even when in pain.
I’ve never broken anything so it was pretty fascinating to watch the casting process. Bode was in good spirits. In fact, I can’t get him to ham it up for the camera even in the best of times!
Stay tuned tomorrow for just how much the kid is working it.
….getting the stomach flu is not the lowlight of your day.
On Wednesday night, we had the missionaries over for dinner during which time Bode complained of stomach pain and spent the rest of the night writhing on the toilet with diarrhea. By the next morning (Thanksgiving), he starting to feel better and we thought it had blown over until I was lying in bed that evening and started to feel It. I spent pretty much most of the night in the bathroom, only to have Hadley succumb by throwing up all over her bed this morning.
Yes, it does get worse.
Today was the only day Jamie could hang the Christmas lights and so I assisted him in hauling our big, heavy boxes down from the attic in the garage. I moved the cars onto our driveway and when I came back into the house, Bode was crying hysterically. I raced up to his room to learn he tried to open the blinds to his window by standing on a crate but it had tipped and he had crunched his wrist. Badly.
I usually open up his room first thing in the morning. But if you will recall, his deadbeat mother was praying to the porcelain gods.
Though Jamie was showing signs of the plague, he was the best of the worst so got to take Bode to his first ER visit.
That’s one milestone I’m kinda glad to have missed.
Several hours later, he was diagnosed with a buckle wrist fracture and we’ll have to meet with an orthopedic surgeon next week to get a cast once the swelling has gone down.
And then the fun begins.
