Utah Mom Blog & Mommy Blogger | Life Elevated Mom

Happy birthday to me

February 20, 2009 by Amber

Gone are the days of…

Getting all hot and sweaty over entering a biathlon in Bryce Canyon on a whim.

Dining with rat poop in Sun Valley’s backcountry yurts.

Scaling Half Dome’s beast in Yosemite (click to enlarge for full effect).

Taking self-portraits with ugly sunglasses after bagging two 14,000-foot peaks by myself in Colorado.

Instead, thanks to a charitable donation (a.k.a. generous birthday present) from my parents, Jamie and I will be doing this.

It’s good to be old.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Reentry after our week-long Utah vacation has not been smooth and we are still sick. For those keeping track, I have been ill more days than I have been well since January. Evidently my condition is contagious because my laptop blue-screened. Jamie was able to resurrect it but not without having to wipe out my entire hard drive that includes my mailing address book, Google Reader and bookmarks to your blogs.

I sometimes feel like 2009 has it out for me.

So, let me reflect upon better times. We stayed with Jamie’s sister Tammy in Salt Lake City who is the ultimate hostess. Our guest bedroom had designer sheets, fresh flowers and a jelly belly elf who magically refilled our candy tray when we weren’t looking. I am convinced Tammy is Martha Stewart Incarnate because she loves to cook gourmet meals and organize. Jamie claims this began when she was little. While he was at school, she would go into his bedroom and organize his drawers.

For fun.

My idea of entertainment is a lot different and usually involves blood, sweat or tears. Or sometimes all three.

Jamie’s brother and brother-in-law joined us on the slopes one day in Park City and we had a great time skiing with them. Most of the time. I thought that mogul run when I crossed my tips and landed face-first was the worst of it.

I was wrong.

It [literally] went downhill when we discovered Park City Mountain Resort’s Terrain Park. I attempted one jump and Jamie mocked me to no end that I snowplowed prior to take-off.

In my defense, I was going waaaaaay too fast for my comfort.

It was then that I decided I’d better leave the jumps, rails and funboxes to the guys. I opted to be their photographer so as to survive with body in tact. Oh, how disillusioned I was.

I took one set of pictures of them catapulting off jumps. I was ready to wrap it up but pride cometh before the fall. Or rather, my fall because they begged me to take more pictures of them in their element.

I obligingly skied ahead of them, parked myself to the right of the jump and beckoned Jamie to come down. I focused my camera on him and awaited his arrival when all of a sudden, there were stars, stripes, blood, sweat and tears all rolled into one: I got slammed into by a snowboarder. Hard.

It was obviously an accident and after my verbal assault, he apologized profusely and helped me collect my belongings. The camera and poles had been launched several feet away and when I looked down, there was blood: a lot of it. The man’s helmet had connected with my lips, resulting in a large cuts on the right-hand upper lip and left-hand lower lip.

Because heaven forbid the swelling should result in uniform, luscious Angelina Jolie lips.

It was not a good day for my face.

Thus begs the question: whose mug is worse? Hers–
Or mine?

Maybe that Martha is onto something.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

The 11th Commandment: Thou Shalt Not Skinny Dip at Park City Mountain Resort

February 16, 2009 by Amber

Some people have a propensity for making a lot of money.

Others for being great with kids.

Mine is for repeatedly getting locked out in precarious situations.

With the kids. And without any money.

My family just returned from a ski trip to Park City Mountain Resort. I was on-assignment to do a write-up for Marketing Director Krista Parry’s new Web site, Snow Mamas. Hitting the slopes is a lifestyle that affords itself all kinds of pleasures and for us those included two days on the mountain, a daughter in ski school, a son in childcare, alpine-coastering and fine-dining at Zoom and Butcher’s Chophouse. (Read my official write-up here).

We stayed in a beautiful two-bedroom Town Lift Condominium. Our accommodations had all the luxuries of home with one huge bonus: a private hot tub on the deck. After hitting the slopes each evening, we would soak our bodies as we overlooked the pulse of Park City’s Historic District.

On one such night, we had been in the hot tub for about an hour when we decided to turn in for the night. My chivalrous husband Jamie hopped out of the tub to grab our towels inside. Or at least he tried–he turned the knob to the door and nothing happened. After a chilly 5-second investigation, he surmised that the door was unlocked but the handle was loose and practically falling off its hinges. He jumped back in the hot tub to warm up before repeating his attempt multiple times.

Nada.

So, there we were: roasting in the hot tub with two little kids and no apparent way to get back into our room. Realizing the situation could quickly turn dire, I called down to a pedestrian on Main Street. He obligingly went to the condo’s lobby and had a staff member come out to assist us.

Kind of.

The staffer told us he would grab the key to our condo and let us back in. And then we waited. And waited. And waited. After about 15 minutes, I knew something was very wrong.

This was confirmed when the staffer stuck his head out the window of the neighboring condo.

“The door is locked,” he yelled.

No duh. Isn’t that what the hotel’s master key is for?

“I’m not talking about the dead bolt,” he expounded. “Someone put the chain on the door so we have no way to get in.”

That “someone” was me. And my little attempt at safety had proved to be quite the opposite.

I envisioned the fire department racing to the scene and a crowd gathering around snapping pictures as we were rescued from our second-floor entrapment. Our exposé would be included in the local newspaper and I would be infamous…in my bathing suit.

Not exactly Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition worthy.

Just as I was starting to have a panic attack, my faithful 4-year-old daughter suggested she say a prayer. Shortly after she explained her mother’s incompetency to The Man Upstairs, the staffer was able to break into the condo.

Despite all the drama, it could have been worse. Later that night after the kids had gone to bed, Jamie and I were surreptitiously planning a little skinny dip of our own.

Talk about front-page exposés.

Originally published at Mile High Mamas on February 16, 2009.

Filed Under: Family travel, outdoors, travel

A Whole Lot of Happiness

February 13, 2009 by Amber

Happy Valentine’s Day from our Crazy Canuck Clan to Yours!

Note #1: Darling homemade apron received as a surprise gift from Haddie’s new BFF Scarlet (with the help of her very talented mom Chellie.)

Note #2: And no, I cannot get those #%*&#%(&# tattoos off her face. Hadley’s face, that is. Not Scarlet’s or Chellie’s.

Note: #3: And yes, this was one of my MANY lapses of judgment. Even worse is the butterfly on my forehead.

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And Happy Anniversary to my beloved Lord of the Gourds.

When we first got engaged, my brothers were worried you were an axe murderer.

Oh, if they only knew.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Mom blogs as promotional vehicles–yes or no?

February 11, 2009 by Amber

So, we’re sick. Again. And it is coming out at both ends. This time, I blame Bode. We have been in Park City and Salt Lake City the past week and he was likely exposed to The Plague when we left him in childcare while the rest of us hit the slopes.

It is is his version of payback.

Oh, and my laptop died. And I got slammed into by a snowboarder. And then we got locked out on the deck whilst in the hot tub.

Despite all of this, it was one of our favorite trips ever. Minus the aforementioned incidents. Details to come when I can drag myself out of bed and try to convince Jamie to get off his pumpkin discussion boards to let me use his computer.

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On another note, when I was at BlogHer last summer I attended a session with a large number of publicists and mommy bloggers. The jist of it was really popular bloggers whined about the terrible PR pitches they often received and the publicists pretended to care, while in reality they drew pictures of bullseyes with the blogger’s head in the middle.

It was a veritable lovefest.

After the session, a lesser-known blogger asked me, “What about the rest of us who want to receive those crummy pitches about products to review or give away on our blog?”

She had a great point. I personally have chosen not to monetize this blog or do promotional giveaways and I reserve that for Mile High Mamas. However, I know there are many of you who want to be on the cutting edge of new product releases and here’s one way to do it: sign up for One2One Network, an effective word-of-mouth network that allows you to sample products, take surveys, throw in-home parties and do giveaways/reviews on your blog.

I received my first product last week: the soundtrack to He’s Just Not That Into You. I have been promoting the movie’s pre-screening on Mile High Mamas so had high hopes for the soundtrack.

My rating: Jamie hates it and I’d give it about a B-.

The soundtrack has some 80s tunes that I never cared for back in the 80s. However, it does have some redeeming tracks from Maroon 5, The Cure and r.e.m. It’s all about taste and while it’s not my favorite, I wouldn’t negate others from enjoying it. I highly suspect once I see the movie, the songs will come to life, as is the case with most soundtracks.

The movie soundtrack came in a package with some nifty promotional candy hearts with sentimental sayings.

Or so I thought.

A few days later, Hadley and I were making a birthday card for a neighbor and I had the brilliant idea to glue some of them onto the card.

Until we started reading them:

Back off.

Let’s talk.

Whatever.

I’m done.

Best to save those sweet nothings for the next time I have a whole lot of something to say to someone less-than-sweet.

Now, for the good stuff. Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win a copy of the He’s Just Not That Into You soundtrack to check it out for yourself. And finally, do you ever do giveaways on your blog? Do you sell ads? Why or why not?

Filed Under: Uncategorized

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

“I love Jesus but I drink a little”

February 5, 2009 by Amber

If you have not seen this clip from The Ellen DeGeneres Show, you must. I haven’t laughed this hard since the day Jamie took an axe to The Great Pumpkin.

But I guess that was more like an evil cackle.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

The Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck Always and Forever

February 4, 2009 by Amber

If you follow me on Twitter (and if not, why not?) you know there has been a respectable amount of stress in my life. One of these pressure points is a little thing called D-E-P-O-R-T-A-T-I-O-N. You see, I am not American but choose to live in this great country and will probably always live here. However at this juncture, I am not willing to forsake ~~all that is holy~~ my Canadian citizenship.

My Permanant Residency Card expires in a few months. It was issued almost 10 years ago after some not-so noble practices. Unfortunately, my beloved Lord of the Gourds did not come into my life until a few years after I needed him.

While at BYU, my fellow Canuck Mike and I used to swap dating stories. Sure, he/she was hot. Sure, he/she was kind. But most importantly: did he/she have GPC? (Code for Green Card Potential.)

Hey, at least we weren’t marrying for money.

Both Mike and I ended up marrying Americans. As a sidenote, one of my favorite Mike stories was after he graduated with his MBA. He had a promising job lead so shot the company off a resume. Imagine his delight when he realized he did not send it from his professional account, but from his personal one. The one entitled “hoserhell.”

He didn’t get the job. Shocker.

Upon graduation, I had no GCP prospects so had to go my own route and apply for Permanent Residency through the government. If I did not have any American connections, they told me it would have taken me 12 years. Fortunately, my grandmother was born in the U.S. so I could go through my mother.

The year that followed was ripped right out of a nightmare. I poured mucho $ into the application process, only to have the government repeatedly change the laws, which required me to start over and over again. I had to fly up to Calgary to go to an “American-approved doctor” (because evidently they don’t have those in the U.S.) and then out to Montreal for an interview. I was yanked into the Taliban room at Customs more times than I can count. In the end, my future residency hinged entirely upon my mother’s ability to pass a driver’s license test, which she flunked three times in one day.

Didn’t know you could take it three times in one day? Don’t tell the three different locations she visited.

It was all a wee bit stressful.

Everything came through in the end but I have been more than a bit apprehensive about what I will have to endure for the renewal. Last month, I sent a big ol’ check to Homeland Security, which felt more like a bribe than a payment but within weeks, they set an appointment.

That appointment was last week.

I barely slept the night before. Would they ship me off to Montreal again? Detain me in the Taliban room? Make my mother retake that driver’s license test and realize she should have been banned from the road 10 years ago when she first took it?

Nothing transpired. They took some fingerprints. I filled out some paperwork. The only conflict was debating if I should check “pink” or “maroon” on the eye color choices just for kicks. But better to play it safe than be kicked out. That was it.

And so my friends, I remain a Canadian yesterday, today and always.

At least until I have to go through the entire process again in 10 years.

Cast your vote here: should I have remained Canadian or instead come over to The Dark Side?

Filed Under: Uncategorized

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

When a well-intentioned compliment goes very, very wrong

January 30, 2009 by Amber

Jamie: [Fondly] Do you remember you were wearing that sweater when we met?

Me: Holy crap–that was six years ago. I NEED NEW CLOTHES!!!!!!!!!

Filed Under: Uncategorized