February is well underway. With our anniversary, Valentine’s Day and my birthday, I have decided it should instead be christened Amberary. I mean, it makes more sense. As a young lass, I could never understand its archaic spelling. Any logical person would spell it Febuary, the way it is pronounced.

Now that we’re both feeling better, I have been immensely enjoying Hadley these days. Sure, living with a toddler is like living with someone with bi-polar disorder. But juxtapose that against her nightmarish colicky first months and I’ll take her mood swings any day!

Lately, I have been marveling about how her little personality is shining through. She truly is an obsessively social being. Everything in her 21-month-old existence centers around people. We went to a party on Saturday night with loads of kids. Before we even finished walking through the door, she took off and we didn’t see her again until the evening was over. In fact, she looked surprised to see us when we came to get her, as if to say “Oh yeah, we DID come together, didn’t we?”

She is also talking a mile a minute these days…and sometimes even makes sense. I’ve been trying to teach her to count but we’ve run into a bit of a roadblock. Y’see, she refuses to say 1. She has no problems rattling off 2, 3, 4, etc. but no matter how we try to bribe her, it is the only word that she obstinately refuses to say. At first, I was perplexed. But then one night as she threw a fit about being left alone in her crib at bedtime, her cries distinctly started forming the words, “One is the loneliest number…”

I should have known it was a mistake to let our social butterfly listen to Jamie’s secret collection of Three Dog Night’s Greatest Hits.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

My secret is out! I had hoped to keep it all a surprise until after the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics but Hadley blew my cover yesterday. We were shopping in Safeway when, in the middle of the cereal aisle, she started yelling “Moooommy, Mooooommy” whilst pointing.

Confused, I looked around until I spotted the focus of her attention. There, on the Frosted Flake box, was my smiling face. I had completely forgotten about that photo shoot a few months ago! Haddie grabbed the box, yelled “Mommy” again and then her focus turned to Tony the Tiger, who’s pointing at me in the picture. Still mesmerized, Haddie queried “Tigger?” as if to say “How could you not tell me you knew my friend Tigger?” I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was only his cousin.

Of course, I’m a little miffed they got got my name wrong on the box and put Lindsey Jacobellis’ instead. But Hadley was not fooled; she knew it was me. And, after all, children never lie, RIGHT?….

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

Hadley is slowing starting to take interest in the children’s programs on TV. Since most of them drive me bonkers (with Tinky Twinky rumored to be gay, not to mention overstuffed, psychedelic Boobah that is crack cocaine for kids), I have not encouraged her to watch. Go figure.

Except for Sesame Street. Now that is a program I can get my hands around. I have visions of self-taught Hadley calling out numbers with the Count and singing the alphabet with Big Bird and Friends. Sure, Ernie and Burt may have more than a platonic relationship (what’s up with the community bubble bath scenes?) but Haddie doesn’t care. Just so long as she is at a fifth grade reading level by kindergarten…that’s all I have to ask.

As we were driving to the grocery store the other day, I told her that if she was a good girl, she would get a cookie from the bakery (I am not above bribery as a parent). As I said that, she took her little hands and started cramming them into her mouth whilst making an avaricious sound of devourment. I was a bit shocked so said it again: “Cookie,” followed by a repeat performance.

And then finally, I clued in. “Hadley, are you the Cookie Monster?” Delight followed my understanding as she continued to demolish her imaginary cookie.

Nice to see Public Programming is helping her get one-step closer to Child Prodigy Status.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

Last night, Jamie scored us some suite tickets for the Avalanche game against the Dallas Stars. For those lowlifes who’ve never been in a suite (OK, admittedly, I was one of ’em until I married Mr. He-Who-Has-Connections) allow me to expand upon how the better half lives.

Watching from a suite is a completely different experience. First, even though moments ago you were with the masses in the lobby, somehow when you enter your little box you feel like you’re on top of the world. Kinda like when I go for weeks with a filthy car and start passing judgment upon everyone else’s dirt the moment I finally make it to the car wash. Snobbery. It ain’t pretty but it sure feels good once and a while.

Second, a little printout of the game summary appears after every period. Not that I care about how much T.O.I. (time on ice) each player has and other such useless knowledge. Of course, the ESPN stats junkies of the world would be in hog heaven.

Third, there is suite envy. You have some suites that are fully loaded with oodles of food and drinks. Ours was not one of them. We got water. Oh yeah, and ice. We had to resort to buying food from the vendors, where you have to mortgage your house just to pay for a hamburger. The folks in the suite next to us had the works–fabulous food, drinks and desserts. And yes, there was envy.

I had my strategy all planned out. I would hop over the barrier, ask if I could use their restroom (ours was out of soap) and while everyone was watching the game, clean out the joint. However, Jamie said this would not be appropriate suite behavior. He would’ve changed his tune the moment he sunk his teeth into their chocolate cake with little decadent suite sprinkles on it. His loss. And what’s the worse that could’ve happened? OK, an arrest. But I could’ve made the news: “Pregnant Lady Fakes Pee and Cleans Out Suite.”

Now THAT would’ve been a suite memory…..

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

The first rule in marriage should be to just go along with what the other spouse is doing or saying. No questions asked. Even if the truth is stretched just a weeeee bit. I mean, as long as it’s not hurting anyone, right? Hunky Hubby ignored this cardinal rule last night.

We had a meeting at the church. I’d been out for two weeks with this dumb flu and this was my first public appearance. Translation: I wanted to make it look good. We ran into some people, and in my best I-want-sympathy-deep-guttural-sick voice, I struck up a conversation about my sufferings. Jamie took one look at me and in his most revealing voice, exclaimed, “Hey Amber, why wasn’t your voice like that a few minutes ago?”

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

I am not a football fan. I really don’t have anything against the Broncos and their bid for the Superbowl. I just don’t have anything for them. And the way this city has because uber obsessed with their hometown heroes, you’d think we’d just taken over the world.

Unfortunately, I am married to one of them. For a while now, we have had a family trip planned to the mountains for this weekend. The weekend of The Big Game. Jamie is losing sleep over it.

“So, do you think our room will have a TV?”
“Nope. One word: TiVo.”

Truth be told, I wouldn’t mind bailing on the whole trip because I’m sicker than ever but it’s the principle of the matter. Besides, I’d rather suffer in a beautiful mountain lodge than in a sea of blue and orange.

I complained to Jamie just how obnoxious I thought all the publicity had become: Bronco songs on the radio, countless ads and articles everywhere in the media. But the REAL topper came today on Page 6 in the paper. A page that should be dedicated to murder, drought and famine. You know. The good stuff. And the headline? Broncos Fans Could Get Fuzzy. http://www.rockymountainnews.com/drmn/local/article/0,1299,DRMN_15_4399137,00.html . This article actually had pictures of about 12 local celebrities with Jake Plummer’s beard photoshopped onto them. Including women.

What’s next? Fans bartering a free vasectomy for two Bronco’s tickets. Oh wait. Too late…..

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

Disclaimer: The following observation was made at a crosswalk on the way to buy some cough medicine after Hunky Hubby had spent three sleepless nights tending to sickly Haddie and me.

“Hey Amber, have you ever wondered if they programmed the lights in the ‘Do Not Walk’ sign a certain way, if it could look like someone is flipping you off?”

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

As I hacked, whined and moaned in the middle of the night, my beloved James made what I thought was a sweet gesture when he gave me some sympathetic snuggles and backrubs. But when I awoke an hour later, face-planted and drooling on the sheets, I realized his true intentions:

During his feigned pity session, he stole my pillow.

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog

It’s official! My first ever letter-to-the-editor got printed in the Sunday edition of the Denver Post. I expect all my fan mail to start pouring in anytime now. Waiting. Waiting. Still waiting….

OK, so maybe the only responses I’ll receive are from pissed-off attorneys and ultra-liberal feminists. But there was an article in last week’s paper that spurred me to action about how female attorneys are being made partners in their firms, and what a “wonderful” job they’re doing balancing family and home life.

I don’t have issues with their career aspirations; we all have hopes and dreams to pursue. I also know many women have extenuating circumstances and need to work. What ticked me off was the false praise that was given to this women for her non-existent balancing act (she was NEVER home for her kids and had brainwashed them to believe her absence was for a nobler good). When I think of all I gave up in my career to become a stay-at-home mom, I don’t have any regrets. It was my decision to have kids and though this is 100X tougher than any job I’ve ever had, I’m grateful for the opportunity. Well, most days. Anyhew, an excerpt from the letter I sent:

“According to your article, attorney Kristin Bronson has absolutely no balance in her life in regards to her family; i.e., she “can go weeks without seeing her children, and she says she relies heavily on others for child care.” How is this to be commended? Bronson has erroneously programmed her children to believe it’s a good and noble thing to choose work over family. Kids at 5 and 8 don’t need career aspirations; they need a mother to instill values and love on a daily basis. It is said that no success in the workplace can compensate for failure in the home. I sure hope Bronson can figure this out before it’s too late.”

P.S. Don’t mess with THIS Mama!!!!!

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog