Spring Snow Day in Colorado!

Gotta admit it: Even though Denver’s dump of snow put a crimp in my road-biking plans, we’ve been loving it Chez Canuck. When school was canceled, we invited over some of our neighborhood besties and made cinnamon rolls.


Had a rousing tournament of Super Mario Bros.


Evidently, personal space is not an issue when crowding around the Wii.

And then we played to our heart’s content outside. We built a killer snow fort and obstacle course.


I had my 1,204th attempt at making a snowman. Little known fact about me: even thought I grew up in the Great, White North, I absolutely suck at making giant balls of snow. I often blame it on Denver’s non-pliable powder but when I saw a neighbor’s perfectly rubenesque snowman, my competitive fuel was fired.

And yes, I realize I am pretty pathetic if a mere snowman ignites my competitive drive.

In my defense, my husband’s obsession started with just wanting to grow the biggest pumpkin in the neighborhood.

I started out strong as the snow cooperated. After that, I really have no excuse because in the end, my snowman resembled a cross between the Leaning Tower of Pisa and E.T.

In a desperate, last-ditch attempt to save face I decided props were the answer. Any guesses on who is my celebrity snowman?


Hint #1: He recently got accosted with a golf club.

Hint #2: I christened him with an extra-long Pinocchio nose made out of “wood.”

Canadian Moose At Its Best

I’m not sure what is most disturbing about this picture Jamie sent me when he was in Niagara.

1) That he entitled it “Even Moose Pee.”
2) Or that he covertly photographed Said Moose at the urinal.

Can a moose sue for invasion of privacy?

Biking Denver and Why I’ll Stick with Grandpa

We have a new member of our family: a Specialized Dolce road bike.

The cost of Said New Member of the Family was equivalent to the hospital bill after giving birth. The main difference? This baby doesn’t cry and was able to ride from birth. To say I am thrilled is an understatement. I have wanted a road bike for two years but minor things like unemployment and starting a new business made this an impossibility.

When I won the Microsoft Office Winter Games Contest, I received the cash equivalent of a trip to Vegas for the Consumer Electronics Show. Hence the new road bike and dental appointments for the entire family.

Mama’s gotta be practical as well.

I first fell in love with cycling in high school when an ankle injury forced me to forsake my dreams of playing college soccer. I spent hundreds of hours biking on Calgary’s extensive network of bike paths, which my dear dad introduced to me when I was 13 years old.

I bought a mountain bike 10 years ago, thinking it would ignite a flame by combining two of my great loves: cycling and mountains.

It never really did.

Sure, I enjoy mountain biking but doing so is an impossibility with two small children. It’s heavy, clunky and slower than a stream-lined road bike. Add a bike trailer that hauls 80 lbs of kids and you get your butt kicked by Grandpa on the bike paths.

I only wish I was kidding about this.

What finally moved me to action: a small chunk of cash to play with and a persisting knee problem that has temporarily forced me to abandon running and high-impact sports.

Basically, this just means that I am old and my body is starting to fall apart.

I bought my bike from Wheat Ridge Cyclery, a local leader in bikes, clinics and services. I was so excited about connecting with such a great business that I even signed up for their Women’s Only Bike Maintenance Clinic.

Me. The woman who can barely figure out how to pump my tires.

I opted to ride my bike home from the shop and followed the Clear Creek Trail for the duration of my ride. It was there I vowed to kick some serious trail rat butt with my ultra-fast bike.

And then I spotted my first victim. It was all too perfect. Not only was he male but he was also on a mountain bike.

You know. The slow kind.

I kicked my bike into high gear and started pedaling, my prey within reach.

Until he saw a girl trying to pass him and kicked it into even faster gear.

We dualed it out until in the end, I waved the white flag and he left me in his dust.

In my defense, he was probably an Olympic mountain biker or something.

Next time, I’ll just go after Grandpa to save my ego.

The Art of Growing…and Murdering Butterflies

My daughter Hadley’s butterfly obsession began last summer when my parents bought her a butterfly net and book.

She was not quick enough to capture even one.

That’s why I wasn’t too surprised when she announced she wanted a butterfly kit for Christmas. It seemed like a brilliant strategy: if you can’t catch ‘em, why not grow your own?

My younger brother used to capture butterflies and watch them die, sending my sensitive heart into a tailspin at the thought of God’s beautiful creatures succumbing to my brother’s demonic Collection of Doom.

It is a long process to grow your own butterflies. The day after Christmas, we sent out our request for caterpillars and were promised they would be delivered in 2-6 weeks.

Then we waited…and waited…and waited.

When our larvae finally arrived in a plastic case it took them another 10 days to evolve into chrysalides. Add two weeks more to that formula as we waited for them to emerge.

Hadley was wonderfully patient. Every day, she would report on their progress. We read books, watched YouTube videos and she prophesied what colors they would be.

The night before we were supposed to leave for a trip to Snowmass, It happened: the first butterfly started its metamorphosis.

You know. Because they couldn’t have had worse timing.

We called in reinforcements: our 8-year-old neighbor Sadie became our cat-turned-butterfly-sitter. When we arrived home three days later, nine more butterflies had emerged. Hadley was ecstatic and became a fantastic caregiver.

Until she announced 48 hours later when that she wanted to release them.

Outside.

I patiently explained it was still winter and they would not survive the chilly temperatures. Our mother-daughter game of begging and refusing lasted all day. Exasperated, she finally blurted out,

“Mommy, you don’t understand!”
“What?”

And in that moment, something changed in her countenance.

“I’ve had my butterflies long enough. THEY MUST DIE TODAY.”

Snowmamas Getaway in Park City!

I’ve had a lot of fun on the slopes with my family this winter but sometimes a girl just needs to have fun. Park City Mountain Resort Marketing Director Krista Parry recruited five moms from various walks of life to contribute to Snowmamas.com and one of our rewards was a getaway weekend.

In style.


And with adrenaline.

(Hanging with The Vacation Gals Jennifer Beth and Kara at Utah Olympic Park. See my previous post about braving that crazy bobsled run).

We went tubing at steep, fast and thrilling Gorgoza Park.


(Picture: Krista, Me, Sugar and Linda as we teetered on the ledge of doom.)

And the snow. Did I mention the snow? On Friday, Park City Mountain Resort received 17 glorious inches of it. That, coupled with my Nordica Hot Rod demo skis made for the best ski day in The History of Amber.

Long and sordid as it is.

(Picture: Me, Krista, Linda and Katja)

There were only two exceptions:

I got separated from the group and encountered expert terrain with thigh-deep snow. Do you know those skiers in the Warren Miller films who effortlessly swoosh down the slopes leaving a spray of sparkling powder in their wake?

I was the very antithesis of that.

And then there was Sugar. I learned very quickly not to stop 10 feet from her because it will result in a roller-derbyesque take-down wherein she called me an unmentionable name.

Hint: it was not at all sweet.

Lest you think the Snowmamas are all work with no play, allow me to dispel these notions. I spent an afternoon brainstorming with some of the greatest minds in social media and family travel including syndicated columnist Eileen Ogintz.

Of course, maybe it’s not considered work if you’re holed up in a gorgeous cabin with food, new friends and fun.

Even if some of them do call you unmentionable names.

Let’s talk Girl Getaways. I’ve already named Park City as mine. Where would yours be?

Defying the G-force on the Bobsled’s Position of Death

I’ve done some crazy things in my life.

I won’t expound upon them because my mother sometimes reads my blog.

Riding in the 4-man bobsled at Utah Olympic Park was the craziest thing I have ever done.

We all know bobsledders go fast—upwards of 90 mph. I was equipped to deal with speed. What I was not prepared for were the excruciating 5 Gs of force weighing down upon me.

To put this into perspective: astronauts only feel 3 Gs during maximum launch and reentry in the Space Shuttle.

It was the first time even my Afro could not defy the forces of gravity.

Some background: I was in Park City last weekend. I have been a part of Park City Mountain Resort’s cutting-edge social media site Snowmamas and my fellow Snowmamas and I congregated for a glorious weekend of skiing, tubing, eating and brainstorming (details in my next post).

Fellow family travel writers The Vacation Gals (Kara, Jennifer and Beth) were also in town. On Saturday afternoon, we toured Utah Olympic Park, which consists of the interactive Alf Engen Ski Museum, the inspiring 2002 Eccles Olympic Winter Games Museum, and a fascinating bus tour of the aerials, ski jump and the combined track venues.

I have done all this before. What motivated me to act as a fourth-wheel was the opportunity to do the bobsled at no charge (a $200 cost).

I figured it would be a roller-coaster on steroids. I did not anticipate it would be like gold medalist Steve Holcomb described as a “minute-long car accident” on one of the fastest tracks in the world.

Jen, Kara and I were assigned to Sled No. 9 and underwent a 30-minute orientation. The room was predominantly filled with chest-thumping, testosterone-oozing men.

And then there was us. But how serendipitous was it that my helmet and sled totally matched my outfit?


In a 4-man bobsled, there is a pilot (driver), positions 2 and 3, and the brakeman in the back. Our instructor Jon described that fourth position as the most aggressive and the one that bears the brunt of the force. For the public ride, the pilot would serve as both driver and brakeman.

You know. Because the person in Position 4 is consumed with a minor thing like not dying.

And who would be insane enough to volunteer for said Position of Death (POD)? Me, of course. Kara and Jennifer gushed gratitude and vowed they would owe me for life. After what I endured on the Comet bobsled, a proper display of indebtedness would be naming their next child after me.

Or, in the very least, their favorite goldfish.

The sled follows 15 curves at speeds only 10 seconds less than the professionals. We were the final competitors. In the public rides, no one does a running start so Jen leisurely entered through the back of the sled, followed by Kara and then me in the POD.

After straddling the person in front of you, the strategy is to shrug your shoulders the entire ride to prevent your head from bobbling around. We used the handles to hold ourselves upright and hang on for dear life.

We were gently pushed off the starting line and that was the final placid moment of our ride. I’m still at a loss for how to describe the sensation of having 5 Gs of force crushing down upon you. It was painful. It was fascinating. It was thrilling. But mostly it was just excruciating.

When I watched bobsledders on TV, I always assumed their head bobbing was due to the velocity but it is more attributed to defying the forces exerted by gravity.

This video is a primer for our ride:

Please excuse the last few seconds of the video that were filmed sideways. In our defense, that was our angle as we barreled down the track.

Upon finally coming to a stop, my first thought was, “That was the most unbelievable experience of my life,” which was followed by “WHY THE CRAP DO BOBSLEDDERS SUBMIT THEMSELVES TO THAT INSANITY DAY IN AND DAY OUT?”

And then all thoughts were overcome by severe throbbing. Dazed, we posed with our cutie pie pilot Jake.

See my smile? I did not mean it.

When I woke up the next morning, I had a severe case of whiplash and could not move my neck and shoulders. The blood vessel in my right eye had burst and I looked like I got my butt kicked by the neighborhood bully.

Which, in reality, I kind of did.

His name is Bob.

It’s Like Learning How to Not Kill Your Child as She Learns to Ride a Bike

On Wednesday, I posted the following on Twitter:

Off to bang my head against the wall a.k.a. once again attempt to teach 5-yr-old Hadley to ride her bike.

I was only kind of joking. My husband Jamie and I tried to teach her last summer but to no avail. To be fair, it was a half-hearted attempt and we kept giving up out of frustration.

Last week, I decided this is The Summer of No Return.

All of her friends can ride on two wheels. In fact, many who are her same age have been doing it for a couple of years. I jokingly call one of our neighborhood families “athletic freaks of nature” because their boys were careening down the block at age 2.

Of course, they also couldn’t stop and could be heard howling “HELLLLLLLLP!”

With an emphasis on the first few letters.

I don’t remember learning to ride my bike. I guess I always assumed when I taught my children, it would be a bonding experience. In all my infinite bike wisdom, I would instruct them accordingly, then run along behind them as I guided their path. After a few failed attempts, I would release them and they would soar away as I sang out, “Fly little bird, fly!”

Instead, my experience has been “YOU’RE BEING ABSURD. YOU WON’T DIE!”

My daughter Hadley is athletic and normally fearless. She brazenly confronts most situations but learning to ride a bike is not one of them. Already at 5 years old, our relationship is a complicated one. We’re a lot alike–both the good and bad. She’s a spirited firecracker like me but also shares my lack of patience. It’s only a matter of time before one of us will eventually melt down.

With Bike Riding 101, we both did.

“I can’t do it. It’s too hard,” she blubbered.
I instantly snapped back at her, “Of course you can! Don’t ever say ‘can’t.’”

As I looked at her dejected, frustrated face, I realized I had to change my approach.

“If you don’t think you can do it, you won’t. But if you tell yourself you can, you will.” I lovingly proceeded to expound upon the intricacies of sports psychology. Most was lost on her except for my key message.

“Hadley, I want you to shout out, “‘I THINK I CAN!’”

The Little Engine That Could ain’t the only one who can do positive affirmation.

She was tentative at first but each time she bellowed it, she started believing. And the more she started believing it, the more she started doing it. She progressed from biking a few feet to 50 feet. I sprinted beside her the entire time.

When we arrived back to the car, I wheezed, “Now, I want you to shout in your loudest voice, “I DID IT!”

“I DID DO IT,” she jubilantly squealed.

At that very moment, her 3-year-old brother slowly hobbled up beside us on her old bike, lost his balance and smashed into the car like a mosquito on the windshield.

One out of two kids ain’t bad.

And so the post-Olympics anti-climax begins

Five-year-old Hadley’s comment during our three-hour drive home from Aspen/Snowmass:

Bode really needs to go poop and I just threw up. There are a lot of things for the grown-ups to do!

Read all the sordid details below about how Snowmass inspired my new Olympic Ski Cross aspirations. Oh, and I’m giving away four free day passes!

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Do you live in Utah? Come our our Snowmamas Night Out at Gorgoza Tubing Park on Friday. It is free for the first 50 people so sign up here. I’d love to see you!

Snowmass: Inspiring Olympic Aspirations in Families

Aspen has a couple of things working against it: exorbitant prices and a reputation for misbehaving celebrities such as Charlie Sheen and those on VH1’s controversial Secrets of Aspen.

Fortunately, it has even more going for it.

My family visited Snowmass for the first time last weekend. I was eager to try the largest of Aspen Ski Company’s highly acclaimed four resorts but I was also worried I wouldn’t fit in. I don’t own fur and my nails haven’t seen a manicure since those fake nails I wore to my high school graduation.

Turns out, it didn’t matter. I was, after all, at a world-class ski resort.

I just wore gloves the entire time.

The Mountain

If you have kids, there is nothing greater than Snowmass’ 25,000-square-foot Tree House Kid’s Adventure Center. The $17 million facility stands as the first of its kind in the snowsports industry with a host of themed rooms for ages eight weeks and older as well as a climbing gym, teen activities and kids’ retail.

Snowmass is renowned for its ski school and employs hundreds of instructors. We enrolled 3-year-old Bode in the Bears class and 5-year-old Hadley was a Grizzly ($130 for a full day). With only 6 percent of its 3,132 acres classified as “easiest,” Snowmass is an intermediate/advanced mountain. The beginner areas became a war zone as newbies practically battled it out for their place to face-plant. The upper mountain was gloriously devoid of lines and crowds.

My children still had the time of their lives.

Snowmass has prodigious amounts of terrain and snow. But it’s the little things that really set it apart: free hot cider, sunscreen and granola bars atop Elk Camp Meadows. Trail maps conveniently printed on the chairlifts’ safety bar. Free naturalist-guided tours twice a day.

Jamie and I are pretty equal in our skiing ability with the exception that he likes to hit the terrain park. I recently got hit by a snowboarder at a terrain park as I tried to photograph Jamie.

That is about as much as we have in common as it pertains to terrain parks.

We had only been skiing an hour when Jamie spotted one of Snowmass’ three terrain parks and the coercion began. I resisted until I saw a class of 6-year-olds tackle it. I reluctantly relented.

I guess you could say I gave in to kid pressure.

Snowmass has done it right. Instead of just having suicidal 10-foot jumps and rails, this one was rated “medium,” which, in terrain-park-speak means “Easy Enough-For-a-30-Something-Mom-to-Have-Visions-of-Ski-Cross-Olympic-Grandeur-Without-Killing-Herself.”

On the same note, at the end of his lesson, Bode proclaimed, “I skied FAST like Bode Miller!”

Look for us at the 2014 Olympic Games in Sochi, Russia.

ACES (Aspen Center for Environmental Studies)

Our first experience in Aspen defied all the town’s stereotypes. ACES (Aspen Center for Environmental Studies) is a non-profit 25-acre preserve that offers educational programs and activities about nature, ecology, and the environment. Or, as my daughter Hadley summarized,

“There were some dead animals and others were alive.”

We joined in as a local elementary school made animals tracks of plaster and my kids touched a python snake. We went for a walk on the Forest Trail along a natural spring that fills Hallan Lake, which is maintained by a family of beavers. Even under a blanket of snow, the wetlands dazzled in winter. We visited two non-releasable birds of prey: a 27-year-old golden eagle and gray-horned owl.

In winter, ACES offers showshoe tours in Aspen, Snowmass and Ashcroft. Summer is king for kids and classes include the Little Naturalist, which focuses on different animals each session. Week-long classes are also offered including Exploring Around (ages 5-6) and Wild Exploration (ages 7-8). The summer schedule will be posted in mid-March at aspennature.org.

Snowmass’ Glorious Food

Snowmass Base Village
The Sweet Life is Snowmass’ sweetheart of family dining. Located in the base village, this is THE must-eat-at restaurant for kids. The first floor is a candy store and ice cream parlor on steroids. The top floor is a 1950s-style diner that is every child’s fantasy.

Don’t miss out on the chicken lollipops, 15 varieties of cupcakes (including root beer float and candied lemonade), fried Oreos, funnel cake fries, and a separate menu of nine different S’mores.

On-Mountain
Skiing and riding works up an appetite and Sam’s Smokehouse satisfies. The new 7,800-square-foot barbecue-style smokehouse has stunning views of Garret’s Peak, Mount Daly and the surrounding backcountry with floor-to-ceiling windows.

Try their pulled pork sandwich, smoked chicken, and barbecue glazed citrus shrimp, topped off by organic apple crisp. Just don’t believe your husband when he says “I’ll only have two bites of dessert” because he will invariably polish it off.

His defense? “They were just really big bites.”

Best Splurge
There is something almost surreal about piling into a snowcat (or a “snowkitty” according to my 3-year-old son) and creeping up a steep mountain slope to a cozy cabin encapsulated by winter’s magical snow globe. Elegant Lynn Britt Cabin gives you that kind of experience. Add that to an ever-changing four-course gourmet meal, Rich (a hilarious guitar-strumming, harmonica-playing entertainer) and you have an unforgettable evening.

Best Off-the-Beaten-Path Restaurant
I am remiss we did not have time to go to Woody Creek Tavern because it came highly recommended from multiple sources. Just six miles from Snowmass, this quirky cowboy dive bar/restaurant boasts the best enchiladas and tamales you will ever taste. Though some superstars are regulars, Woody Creek Tavern prides itself as being “anti-establishmentarianism.”

Whatever the heck that means in a celebrity-kissed town that does a stellar job catering to families.

I’m giving away four ski passes to Snowmass at Mile High Mamas! Be sure to enter.

2010 Vancouver Olympic Games: I Had the Time of My Life!

Hanging out with Bonnie Blair at the USA House

As my epic Olympic journey draws to a close, I feel like some sort of punctuation mark is in order.

And it is a big ol’ exclamation mark!!!

I had the time of my life taking part in the Office Winter Games Contest and these are just a few of the many reasons:

1) Hanging out with Olympic speed skating legend Bonnie Blair. She is every bit as genuine, spirited and delightful as she seems on camera. My fondest memory is when we were reprimanded for being too loud.Talk about a kindred spirit.

2) Representing Microsoft Office ’10. At various points in the trip, most technology failed me. I.e. I couldn’t find reliable Wi-Fi, had phone problems in a foreign country etc. Some days, the only thing that saved me was being able to crank out a draft in Word and directly upload it to my blog (a new ’10 feature) whenever I found a connection. Kudos to Microsoft Office ’10 for being so social-media friendly and a delight to promote.

3) Meeting “The Great One” Wayne Gretzky.

And greatly putting my foot in my mouth.

4) Seeing my son’s namesake Bode Miller win his first medal–a bronze–in the downhill.

Meeting Al Roker at the Today Show

And then racing a mile in my clogs to meet Bode in person at a press conference, all for naught.

5) Having the Today show’s Matt Lauer steal my moment in the spotlight. I later promoted my blog post about it on Twitter and the Today show commented how funny it was and retweeted it to their 582,714 followers.

Which is just 2 more followers than me.

6) Interviewing. A few of the people I interviewed: six-time gold medalist Bonnie Blair, gold medal aerialist Nikki Stone, CEO of the United States Bobsled & Skeleton Federation Darrin Steele, Director of Media Services Bob Condron, USOC’s Associate Director of Food and Nutrition Services Terri Moreman and so many more.

7) Being interviewed. It was also fun to have the tables turned and receive some media placements of my own. With Microsoft Office’s ace publicity team, I was featured on the front page of CNN Tech, Denver Post, Arvada Press, Mormon Times, the Seattle Post Intelligencer, the Wall Street Journal’s Market Watch, LDS Living, CNet, Fox 31, Channel 2 and I had multiple call-ins to one of Colorado’s top radio stations, KOA radio.

I would add the Today show to this list had Matt Lauer not stolen my moment.

8) The Canadian men’s hockey team’s dramatic finish. Even though I am proud to live in the United States and cheer for our inspiring athletes, hockey is Canada’s game. The gold-medal-win secured Canada’s record as the nation with the most gold medals ever during an Olympic Games.

The Great One, Wayne Gretzky

This journey would not have happened if it was not for the countless hours Microsoft Office’s team put into it. Special thanks to the United States Olympic Committee for the assistance they provided us. And most importantly, thank you to everyone who voted me there.

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Though I was sad to leave Vancouver, I was thrilled to return to a loving family, clean house, birthday streamers the color of the Olympic rings and a belated party.

Of course, reentry into the real world is not completely smooth after having The Time of Your Life. The morning after I returned, my husband Jamie (notorious for taking long showers to soothe his sore back) used all the hot water.

Me: “My shower was COLD this morning!”
Jamie: “After leaving me with the kids for 10 days, you haven’t yet earned the right to complain.”

You won’t hear any complaints from me for a very long time.

Thank you for following my Olympic journey! Of course, my family’s hilarious experiences continue. We are currently in Aspen/Snowmass and then will be at Park City Mountain Resort the following week. Tune back in for our many misadventures!