Humor | Life Elevated Mom

When “The 10 Plagues” is the Theme of Your Birthday Party

February 22, 2009 by Amber

I celebrated my birthday on Friday. In years past, I:

Was on my honeymoon in Costa Rica.
Had the time of my life on a cruise to Belize and Honduras.
Attended the quarter-finals for hockey at the Olympics.
Received a new car.

Now, lest you think my birthday has been all about extravagance let me assure you it has often coincidentally fallen during such occasions.

There was a respectable amount of fanfare surrounding my latest birthday. Lunch with a friend. Dinner with family. A night out with my husband Jamie while the kids slept over at Grandma’s. A couple’s massage the next morning.

What I planned was very different from what I got: LICE.

Jamie and I were sitting on the couch a few hours before the festivities were to begin when he discovered a wretched little black bug in my hair, then another. He rushed to the store, consulted with the pharmacist and the rest of the day was not filled with celebrations but with disinfection and exorcisms.

We were delighted to discoverI had infected the kids as well. I could blame it on my daughter’s preschool but I think the blame falls on me: my head has been itchy since a spa treatment I received a few weeks ago.

Nice to know I have been spreading the love all this time.

If you’ve never had lice, allow me to delight you with a few sordid details. Soak your heads in lovely lice-busting shampoo. Take a fine-tooth comb and scrape those little buggers away. Repeat this process 1,000 times. Then wash everything you have touched over the last few weeks. Finally, inform your friends who will then banish you for life.

Evidently, lice is the new leprosy.

Of course, there is humor in everything. Like when Jamie was scrubbing my head as I was bent over the bathtub and he started singing “Happy Birthday.” Or when he started listing off the ten plagues I was inevitably going to acquire: “First comes lice, then boils and locusts, etc.” Fortunately, he left off the death of the firstborn.

Or the slaying of insensitive husbands.

And the highlight of my day? When they sang “Crappy Birthday” to me as I blew out the candles on my cake.

Jamie did somewhat redeem himself later that night when he returned home after doing a second run to the store for lice-busting shampoo. He sympathetically took one look at me, handed me some Girls Scout cookies and said, “COMFORT FOOD.”

There may be hope for him yet.

Filed Under: Favorite Posts, Humor Tagged With: embarrassing

Relationship dynamics–what are yours?

February 9, 2009 by Amber

This may come as a surprise to you but I can be high-strung.

Or maybe this is not so shocking to those who know me.

I married a great man who is easy going. I have known from the get-go part of what makes our relationship work so well is how we balance each other out.

* I blog.

* I love eating pumpkin.

* He grows giant pumpkins.

* He blogs about his pumpkins.

See? Match made in heaven.

But it wasn’t until our recent ski trip to Keystone that I had an epiphany about it all. We had arrived at the resort and were unloading the car to check-in. As usual, I was stressed about something. Because that is what I do. And as usual, he tried to calm me down.

I have just accepted that this is the dynamic of our marriage. Sometimes I am appreciative. Other times, it annoys me. What if I don’t want to calm down? What if I am completely validated in freaking out over this?

But last week, I was struck with gratitude that he always talks me off the ledge. And I wondered what my life would be like if I married someone who was not a calming influence in my life. Someone who fueled the fire instead of harmoniously extinguishing the flames.

It would not be pretty.

I have been in relationships like that. I once dated a guy who was exactly like me. I know–it is alarming that this is possible. His strengths were my strengths, his weaknesses were the same. We were both journalists, loved the outdoors and were passionate souls ready to conquer the world. In the beginning, we were on such a high–we were the perfect match. I was so thrilled: I was dating myself!

But then we hit the wall. We didn’t compliment each other in the least. We didn’t learn from one another nor grow together.

And then I woke up with dread one morning: I was dating myself.

Worst. Thing. Ever.

Filed Under: Humor, Jamie

Learning to “Ski Like a Girl” at Keystone Resort

February 1, 2009 by Amber

I grew up with O.S.S. (Only-Sister Syndrome), which often became S.O.S. when participating in sports with my ultra-competitive brothers. The biggest slam to my ego was when they accused me of doing anything “like a girl.”

But here’s the deal: last week at Keystone Resort, I “skied like a girl” and loved every minute of it. While Jamie and Bode went sledding at the Nordic Center, Hadley and I got a sneak peak at Keystone’s infamous Betty Fest ski clinics, the ultimate in girl bonding. Their regular clinic includes two days of on-hill training for all levels, video analysis and women- specific discussions.

Our little Betty Fest consisted of amiable PSIA-certified women instructors and [perhaps most importantly] pink feather boas.

I have skied since I was a wee Canadian lassie and worked as a publicist in Utah’s ski industry. But here’s the deal: I haven’t improved in years. And so when my kick-butt instructor Cathy asked me what skills I wanted to work on, I told her I wanted to ski moguls like Wonder Woman, who incidentally, is one step above skiing like a girl.

Cathy’s first item of business: bringing me down to the depths of humility and correcting every single technique I had. And just when I felt I was starting to resemble a one-legged tree frog on skis, she built me back up so I was rocking those bumps…and not just rolling over them.

Though make no mistake: even during the rolling, the feather boa held up marvelously and I highly recommend Keystone’s next Betty Fest February 28 – March 1. I hope to be there, boa and all.

Keystone Lake: A Cut of Canada

Most families have some kind of initiation when someone marries into the clan. My American husband received a pair of hockey skates with the explicit instructions that any of our future half-breeds should be born on the blade.

But here’s the the deal: a Canuck’s idea of skating is not circling around on some uninspired indoor rink with music blaring in the background. We like wide open spaces and skate for miles on rivers and lakes. Frozen nose hairs are an added bonus.

Keystone Lake is about as close to The Real Skating Deal as I have come since moving to the United States. They boast their five-acre lake is the largest Zamboni-maintained outdoor skating rink in North America. My little clan had the time of our lives cruising around, watching the pick-up hockey game and marveling at the mountain grandeur as flurries of ice particles glittered in the swirling air. It was the perfect cut of Canada.

Minus the frozen nose hairs.

When the Spa & Sleigh Rides Do Not Mix

While at the Keystone Lodge and Spa I received the Aboriginal Mala Mayi treatment. After a gentle full-body scrub, I was covered in silky warm Mapi Body Mud, received a Paudi scalp massage, followed by a full-body Marta Kodo massage. It was 100 minutes of sheer bliss, only to be interrupted by a mad dash to Keystone’s famous sleigh ride dinner with my family.

It should have been the perfect evening in our horse-drawn sleigh. Snuggling up to my children as we soared across Soda Creek Valley’s snowy wonderland. Watching the snowflakes collect on their lashes as we gazed up at the explosion of stars. Hearing them giggle in delight as we arrived at the restored ranch homestead. Eating a delicious four-course steak dinner with all the fixins’. Laughing as we sang along to cowboy tunes all night.

But it wasn’t perfect. Not for me, anyway.

Remember that blissful massage I had a couple hours prior? There was some detoxification involved. The kind that involves flushing the bad toxins out of my body at a very rapid rate. I’ll stop there. Just know that I became very acquainted with the cowboy outhouse all evening long. I learned then what I should have known all along: cowboys and spas should never, ever mix.

Maybe I should just stick to sking like a girl.

Filed Under: Colorado, Family travel, Hadley, Humor, outdoors, skiing Tagged With: Keystone

Unsolved Mysteries:The Costa Rica Honeymoon Edition

January 28, 2009 by Amber

In just a few weeks, my beloved James and I will celebrate our six-year anniversary. We have certainly had our fair share of crazy moments but the one that has kept me up at nights in a stupor of thought occurred shortly after we were married.

You see, Jamie and I spent our honeymoon in Costa Rica. Ma honey did an impeccable job planning our entire trip. We started at the Magellan Inn in Cahuita. With its deserted beaches on the Caribbean ocean and gorgeous grounds, this was the perfect newlywed spot.

Well, if it weren’t for the “chastity” beds they had pushed together instead of just springing for a queen-sized bed.

From there, it was onto Poas Volcano Lodge where we scaled volcanos and hiked through La Paz Butterfly Gardens. Oh, and I fell in love with plantains and a roadside stand’s creme de leche, those two things alone accounted for my 30-lbs weight gain during our honeymoon.

Half-way into our trip, we were supposed to spend a night camping in the rain forest but had to cancel when Jamie hit a purple and pink bus that caused a huge traffic jam in downtown San Jose.

But I’m not allowed to talk about that.

Now, onto the mystery. The last area we stayed was Tabacan, a five-star resort located at the base of Arenal Volcano in Northern Costa Rica. Tabacan had 12 natural thermal hot springs, with grounds that were littered with lagoons and waterfalls. From our private porch, we could watch the lava flowing from the volcano. Bottom line: it was surreal and gorgeous.

One afternoon, we decided to go on a long hike to a waterfall. Not wanting to bring our newly-minted wedding rings, we took them off and I hid them in the bottom of my make-up bag. When we returned a few hours later, they were gone.

We immediately reported the theft to the manager. He asked if housekeeping had come by and we responded affirmatively. We were on our way to dinner and he said he would look into it. A couple of hours later, he appeared at out table. He showed us the room report of all the key swipes:

1) The maid
2) Us
3) Manager
4) Manager

He said he had talked to housekeeping and they denied the charge. He then defended them, saying they had been at the resort a long time and they have never had any problems. He left and we resolved to go to the police the next morning.

Until we went back to our room. There, very strategically placed behind two glasses in the bathroom, were our rings. They were obviously planted there when we were at dinner.

So, Super Sleuths, what sayest ye? Who done it and was the manager in on the crime? Have you ever had anything stolen from a hotel?

Filed Under: Humor, Jamie, travel

How did you know “He’s Just Not That Into You?”

January 25, 2009 by Amber

Valentine’s Day is a time for many lovers to rejoice and for singles to ignore. Hate it or love it, we all agree that the path to true love is not always smooth.

Prior to finding my dear Lord of the Gourds, I had my fair share of dating mishaps and unrequited love seemed to be my lot in life. For those who are still there, I have felt your pain. At Mile High Mamas, I’m teaming up with the sure-to-be hit movie He’s Just Not that Into You for a contest that will allow you to vent your lovelorn frustrations.

Of course, since many of you aren’t local and cannot attend the pre-screening, be ye not dismayed. Still drop on by and say “hi, it sure sucked to be you” or email me if you have a story of your own you’d like to share.

As aforementioned, I have not always been the very epitome of romantic idealism you see before you (just work with me here). In college, I had a crush on a guy we’ll call Rett Meaty (name has been changed to protect the not-so innocent). Rett was hunky, funny, completely clueless and had women fawning all over him. He worked on campus at 4 a.m. and a girl in his complex drove him every day. “No worries,” she would say. “I’m awake at 3:30 a.m. anyway to go running at the track.” The track that did not open until 5:30 a.m.

But he wanted me. Or at least I liked to think so. We hung out regularly but there had been no romantic professions. Rett worked hard to get through school but was really poor. At one point, my mom sent him $20 to take me out to dinner. Imagine how thrilled I was when he came back to exclaim, “Hey, thank your mom for that money. Now I don’t have to donate plasma this month.”

Clueless.

I decided I would give good ol’ Rett one last chance. If he asked me out for Valentine’s Day, there would be hope. We continued to hang out every day but nothing happened. My confidence started to fade but then I received The Call on February 13th: Would I go out with him for an evening of whimsical fun and romance the next evening? OK, so maybe he didn’t exactly say that but surely his invitation of attending a movie for his biology class on campus was just a cover, right?

I primped, I plucked. I was ready for him to declare his undying love for me. I picked him up and he directed me to campus but I was still not deterred. Maybe he had setup a surprise dinner for us on top of the Romey Building. Or perhaps he had stashed a series of clues for me to follow, only to be rewarded in the end by a giant smooch.

I got out of the car and he directed me to the biology building. We entered the theatre and settled in to watch a biology film. And it was not just any biology film. It was:

Fetal Development: A Nine Month Journey.

That was the last I ever saw good ol’ Rett again.

Filed Under: Humor

When I am not above playing dirty with my 4-year-old daughter

January 13, 2009 by Amber

To build up Hurricane Hadley’s confidence, I often pretend to be dumber than I am and marvel when she gets the correct answer.

This strategy has backfired lately because she is now convinced I am stupid.

Hadley: I am smarter than you, Mommy.

Me: [Backpeddling] I don’t think so, dear.

Hadley: Well, I am.

Me: Oh yeah? What is 4 + 2?

Hadley: [Silence. Insert crickets chirping]

Me: Touché, my dear.

Filed Under: Hadley, Humor

Denver Mommy Blogger Does Canadian Christmas

January 6, 2009 by Amber

A few weeks ago, my friend Lisa hosted a Christmas soiree and had a gift exchange to be remembered. For those who don’t know how to play: everyone brings a wrapped gift and then draws a number and takes a turn either choosing an unwrapped gift or swiping one that has already been opened.

We were half-way through the exchange when my friend Wendy opened the gift I had brought–a green and orange prize ribbon. Everyone dubiously stared at it until realization set in that it was for a certain someone’s prized pumpkin. I won’t go into details but it got ugly. Jamie attests that no one was laughing.

I can assure you that everyone was laughing but him.

Now, onto some highlights of our two-week vacation in Canada:

Sleep, Blessed Sleep

We slept in every morning. I haven’t had that many consecutive nights of eights hours of sleep since birth. Oh wait. I didn’t sleep even then. We slumbered in my parent’s pitch-dark basement. After our first night, I awoke to Bode screaming at the top of his lungs, “Can’t see, can’t see!” In toddler speak, this means “HALP, I’M BLIND!!!!!”

The Cold

The weather was almost unbearable the first several days (-30 degrees) but we spent some quality time visiting with my folks snuggling up by the fire, drinking hot chocolate, dragging the dogs for walks around the house, doing make-up with Grandma, playing games and hanging out in the Canadian Rockies. Oh, and sleeping. Did I mention glorious sleep?

Outdoor Pursuits, Canadian-Style

When temps warmed up, Dad and I went cross-country skiing and we all tobogganed at the gully near my house. Turns out my thrill-seeking days are over and I started to scream “I’m too old for this”… until my 68-year-old father zoomed past me. Jamie declared he had two days left on his health insurance and brazenly stupidly went off a huge jump. There was no sympathy as he limped around afterwards.

I got some YakTrax from my parents for Christmas. Never heard of them? Just strap these bad boys onto your shoes and they help you run in the snow. It was so bloody cold that first week that I went out for a run when it was -20 C. I covered my face with my turtleneck but just breathing caused it to freeze solid. Bottom line: Yaktrax work out marvelously in the sub-zero temps but maybe you shouldn’t. Will wait for balmy -15 degree conditions next time around.

On Not Getting Ripped

My brother Pat and his wife Jane took Jamie and I to Caesar’s, the best steakhouse in Calgary. Oh, and I did not get Ripped. Why burn 1,000 calories in an hour when you eat ten times that in two hours? The good Lord chose to smite me with the stomach flu that Ripped day. A curse or possibly a blessing?

The Canucks

Seeing beloved friend Stacey and then hanging out with cherished high school sweethearts Allison and Shannon.

Note: Prior to snapping this shot, Shannon asked, “Are we taking the picture with our clothes on or off?”

And no, we weren’t those kind of sweethearts.

Jamie met renowned giant pumpkin grower “The Ice Man” (because what would any vacation be like without pumpkins?) Ice Man took him out to his property and showed Jamie his 12 greenhouses where he grows his orange monstrosities. A disturbing glimpse into the life we would lead if we ever moved to Canada.

My brother Pat is a commodities trader and travels in wealthy circles. We got invited out to one of these friend’s houses for a Boxing Day party to play hockey in their backyard (because doesn’t everyone flood their backyard and make it into a rink?) I enjoyed chatting with everyone but later realized the net worth in the room with four other couples was $100 million. Any guesses who was the poorest?

Christmas

Nothing has ever compared to Christmas in Canada for me. Christmas Eve was replete with family traditions of stuffing our faces, [badly] playing the Christmas bells, proving our mental deficiencies in the Left-Wright Game and fighting over presents in the gift exchange. Christmas Day was food, generosity and laughter. The perfect holiday spent with my wonderful parents and my brother and his family.

The Flights

I did not die (though I wanted to kill a few people en route.) Overall, pretty minor on the Amber Scale of Catastrophes: 1) Our Chariot stroller accrued THREE flat tires 2) The Las Vegas airport SUCKS for layovers and doesn’t have a #$&(&# train between terminals and the Chariot would not fit in the shuttle. 3) We flew into Denver with 40 mph winds–the worst turbulence I have ever experienced. As the children delightedly squealed, “Weeeee, roller-coaster airplane!” I started writing my will. Of course, you are all in it.

Too bad I’m not worth much.

Note to self: start hanging out with wealthy commodities traders in 2009.

XOXO
Amber

Filed Under: Canada, Family, Family travel, holidays, Humor

The Delta Lodge at Kananaskis

January 5, 2009 by Amber

Our Christmas was all about giving each other “experiences.” My brother and sister-in-law threatened to take us to the killer workout Ripped but I mercifully got sick and they instead porked us up at the city’s nicest steakhouse. And for The Parents Who Have Everything, my husband Jamie and I decided we would whisk them away on an overnighter in the Canadian Rockies.

Lest you think this was a bit over-the-top, it helped we were already vacationing at their home in Calgary.

I wanted somewhere that was kid-friendly, fairly close and most importantly, had gorgeous views of the Canadian Rockies. Long ago, I had bookmarked The Delta Lodge at Kananaskis as a potential destination. Never heard of Kananaskis Country? Take it from me: it is Alberta’s best-kept secret. While all the other tourists are heading to nearby Banff or Jasper, locals sneak off to Kananaskis’ 4,000-square kilometer outdoor playground, which is just as beautiful but without the crowds and cost.

And yes, I am quoting the size in kilometers. All you non-metric people need to get with the program (and rest of the world).

The Delta Lodge is consistently rated as one of Alberta’s best family hotels and upon check-in, each of the children received a packet of fun Christmas crafts and toys. I really didn’t have an agenda because there is a lot to do in the area with a nearby tobogganing hill, a gorgeous walk along the Rim Trail, an outdoor pond for skating, a pool and spa, game room and Nakiska ski resort, site of the 1988 Olympic Alpine events.

But here’s the deal. It was cold. We were lazy. And The Delta Lodge had already served up a full plate of Christmas activities that we couldn’t resist. We made banana boats and roasted them on a campfire. My daughter wrote a letter to Santa and was delighted to find a response under the door the next morning.

Funny. The only thing they slipped me was the bill.

And there was the Elf Tuck-In Service.

Yes, people. At bedtime, an elf came to snuggle up to my children and read them Christmas stories before tucking them into bed. As I watched my children giggle in wonderment, I had an epiphany: my childhood sucked. Sure, I had love. Sure I had stability. BUT WHERE WAS MY ELF?

But the highlight of the whole trip was when my mom and I skipped out on swimming and played “Merry Christmas Bingo” with Mrs. Claus. I can’t explain it but I have had an unhealthy obsession with Bingo. Jamie banned me from playing on our recent cruise, possibly fearing we’d be in the only ones in there without bifocals and that this was my version of a mid-life crisis.

Turns out, we were the only people in the room without young children. At first, I felt subconscious. What if I actually won? Would my victory be frowned upon by the other children and parents? But then I got caught in the crossfire of a 13-year-old boy’s mini-marshmallow attack. He unapologetically sneered at me. I glared back. And then war was declared.

Rudolph, Santa’s Hat and Wreaths–all these images were on my Bingo card and I became obsessed with covering them with my mini-marshmallow Bingo chips. Mrs. Claus droned on and on until finally, a perfect letter ‘X’ was formed. I momentary paused, savoring the victory yet wondering if I should quietly and modestly announce it.

“MERRRRRRRRY CHRISTMASSSSS!” I ended up shouting.

After all, I have never been quiet or modest about anything.

Turns out the joke was on me. When I went to redeem my prize, the only ones available were for kids 12 and under. I finally snatched up a ceramic piggy bank with accompanying paints, acting like it was just like what I always wanted.

And maybe it was. In fact, I’ll probably even paint it bronze.

Filed Under: Family travel, holidays, Humor, travel Tagged With: Canada

Give the Gift of Death This Holiday Season

December 22, 2008 by Amber

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.

Filed Under: Canada, Family, Favorite Posts, Humor

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

December 15, 2008 by Amber

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.

Filed Under: holidays, Humor