Guest blogger Tiffani lives with her three right-brained kids and one left-brained hubby in Erie. When not blogging the minute yet incredibly exciting details of her life at Child’s Play or dreaming up ways to look productive and organized without actually having to be productive and organized, she runs her own natural bath and body company, Serendipity Bath Co.

For the past three years, the annual buy-a-thon known as Back-to-School month has been met with cheers and applause by my older kids. For them, it means that all the school kids return to class while they get back their free reign at the Zoo, Science Museum, and outdoor parks again. You see, we are homeschoolers. We grudgingly share our territory outside of school with the masses in the few months during summer but can’t wait to claim it back again in September.

It wasn’t always this way for us. My now 11-year-old daughter had Back to School from K-3rd. Not a long span in terms of a total K-12 education, but for her it was an eternity. Back to School wasn’t accompanied by the normal jitters and fears most kids get. It became an exercise in full blown anxiety. It became a tortuous descent into tears and pleadings not to make her go back to ‘that place’.

I watched her go from a vibrant, curious, busy, talkative, humorous, excitable girl during the summer into a withdrawn, quiet, bored, anxious, combative girl by the time school started. I made sure to introduce her to her new teacher well ahead of time in case it was a stranger anxiety issue. I started the “school schedule” in the morning two weeks prior in case it was a timing issue. I let her pick out all her own fun school gear in case it was an aesthetic issue. I prepared all her favorite foods for her bagged lunch in case it was a gastronomical issue.

If she was a newborn, this phenomenon would be called “Failure to Thrive,” and I was baffled, and then angry, and then sad, and then I started looking for answers…but it took me until the end of 3rd grade to find any. Read on …

I am going to be honest right up front. I am a staunch Obama supporter. Usually we don’t talk about such things here on Mile High Mamas, but given the fact that the Democratic National Convention has taken over our town this week and the big speech will go down this evening at Invesco, there was nothing else I could write about today, now was there?

It is all certainly historic, if not energizing. (Depending on your point of view, of course.)

But besides the politics, has the last week been surreal or what? It’s been overwhelming. Both in terms of the amazing energy *and* the wild ride anyone living or visiting downtown has witnessed. The amount of people, media, controversy and celebration has been like nothing we Denverites have ever seen. And while I don’t understand the details of every situation (and there is too much to keep track of!), one thing I have heard over and over around town and on the news, the people of Denver are awesome. So nice. Not just the volunteers, but the people of the city. So, Democrat or Republican - we have so much to be proud of.

Has everything gone smoothly? Read on …

Lori blogs from a Denver suburb about mindful living at Weebles Wobblog and about her twisty journey to become a mom at Drama 2B Mama, She also dishes about good buys at All Thumbs Reviews. Writing sometimes helps her to recall bits of herself that she once gave away. Her great dream would be for her son and daughter to keep their soul-bits to themselves and never have to do such a recall. Is that even possible?

He was 19, two years older than I. Because I had been a band-weenie in high school (flute, thank you very much), it was quite a social promotion for me to wear his letter jacket at our small college. He — the artist, the poet, the football star, the Paul McCartney look-alike — he was interested in little ol’ freshman me.

“Paul” and I were together less than a year. We began dating in late fall and broke up some time during the summer when we were home in our respective cities and he met a new girl. But in the early part of the summer, I received beautiful poetry written for me, devotions of undying love. Real handwritten letters in my mailbox. It was an endless summer and a painful fall.

Fifteen years later, he looked me up and began emailing me. He was going through a divorce, and I knew that such a thing can prompt a person to take stock of his past. We corresponded for a few months, and our interactions culminated in a phone call where I gently slipped in (in case he had begun wanting to become more then “old friends”) that I was very happy in my marriage. The call ended and he never contacted me again.

Fast forward another decade to now. Soon I will be traveling to his city. Read on …

At the end of February, I embarked on a journey to save my father’s life. At the time, I didn’t really know just how much I would have to endure. Perhaps it is best. I brought my then 9-month-old son along, creating a separation from my husband that was the longest we’ve ever tolerated. It was far more difficult than we all had prepared ourselves for.

My father had ignored his health and become bed-ridden. He was in complete denial about the state of his body, and that is why I flew back to Texas. I was the only one who could badger and anger him enough to do something about it. His stubbornness was matched only by his need to keep secrets.

A week and a half trip ended up being over a month long. Within two days of my stay, I had put my father into the hospital. He was diagnosed with severe congestive heart failure, edema, heart disease, and lung disease. He would get better, and then get worse. Every day, I drove to the hospital to stay with him. Every day, I brought my son. I was taking care of my mother (who was having daily seizures and health issues), my son, and my father. It felt like the great big karmic skies had opened up and dumped everything upon me at once.

Throughout the ordeal, my son was incredible. Read on …

There are certain things that we all want for our kids. Generally speaking, they are the same things we want for ourselves: health and happiness, right? Oh, and eventually enough money in the bank to pay for health and happiness. From there, the individual parent’s list of wants either grows a little or becomes something that rivals The Polar Circle Marathon in regard to length and degree of difficulty.

Number one on my mother’s list of goals was to make sure her children were respectful to their elders. When we were given a directive by my father, we were taught to call him “sir��? when replying. “Yes, sir.��? “No, sir.��? “Ten-four copy that, sir.��? We acknowledged every adult that came into our home and then quietly left them to their business. When visiting other homes, we greeted every adult with a handshake or hug, a “How do you do?��? or a “¿Como esta?��? Number two on her wish list was that THE CHILDREN WASH THEIR DISHES.

My father’s goal was to make sure we knew how to use reference books. This was back in the dark ages before the Internet. So our house was filled with encyclopedias, English dictionaries, Spanish dictionaries, map books, quote books, how to use shorthand books. I remember there was this library contest back when I was probably in the fifth grade wherein dinosaurs were on posters plastered all over the place. “Where is the thesaurus?!��? they asked in big letters. Pfft. Our family had a small family of THESAURUSES… in several languages. His second goal in regard to his children? THAT THEY Read on …

I was contacted a couple of months ago by a book publisher. I know. Me.

The email appeared as I was being forced to get jiggy with my daughter and her favorite movie, The 12 Dancing Princess. As I strained to read the email’s contents, Hadley reprimanded me I was not “keeping form��? with my pirouettes. This, from the girl who performed an impromptu solo at her dance recital.

The query came from a leading publisher in the outdoor industry. The company was looking for someone with a travel writing background to write a guidebook on hiking with children in Colorado.

I went through my mental checklist:

Hiking? Love it.
Children? Have them.
Colorado? Live there.

It was the perfect fit! Or was it? After the initial euphoria wore off, I sat down to weigh the pros and cons of accepting an assignment of this magnitude. And after a lot of self-reflection, my answer was Read on …

If the Olympics are inspiring you to get up and go, Mile High Mamas has the perfect giveaway for you…even with baby in tow!

I first stumbled upon Belle Baby Carriers at a baby expo a few months ago. This Boulder-owned company launched locally just two years ago and since then has grown to serve more than 200 domestic retail outlets and can be purchased in eight different countries.

What makes it so popular? Unlike other baby carriers and baby slings, the Belle Baby Carrier distributes your baby’s weight to your hips instead of your back and shoulders, and it positions your baby in a proper, ergonomic position that supports your baby’s developing spine. Read on …