Allow me to dispel a rumor: I did not cause the horrible storm that ravaged Denver last week. A few so-called friends have accused me of praying it here so as to wipe out my husband’s pumpkin growing season. For those not in the know, I have been christened “The Pumpkin Widow” because I am married to a man who is obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. Or rather, a man who was obsessed because after Monday’s storm, I am sad to say that The Great Pumpkin is no more. In my defense, my children and I were 65 miles away sunning ourselves on the deck at Devil’s Thumb Ranch. Oh wait. The storm occurred at night. I think I just blew my alibi. When I awoke the morning after, I was greeted with a series of increasingly despondent emails from my husband Jamie who had r...
I haven’t counted how many pairs made the return trip. If all 56 made it back, it was a rousing success. If one or two are missing, I won’t be sad. I can’t even make if from my boys’ bedroom to the washer without leaving a trail of the tighties and the whities. If more are missing, I’d like to humbly apologize to hotel housekeepers along the I-80 corridor. You’ve probably encountered worse hotel room stragglers than faded Shrek faces on cotton, however. I bet you have some wild stories to tell. If we gained any? I’ll be gagging myself with a vintage 1982 spoon. I find vacationing with seven children to be challenging, especially when the plan was to drive over 2,000 miles over the course of 12 days. I started mentally packing for the trip months in...
Guest blogger Janalee Card Chmel is co-owner of MA! motherhood with attitude and is a Denver-based freelance writer. She was shocked at the age of 40 to find out she was pregnant. Follow her journey each month. So, as I have documented well, this baby was a surprise. Now, as the weeks pass, I recognize that a huge part of my initial reaction to the news came from a fear of change. I haven’t once feared that I was capable of mothering a third child. Lord, let me get my hands on this beebee and mother it! I love being a mom! No, the deepest fears I’ve faced (and continue to face) come from a fear of change. But the change is happening. It is upon us. And — dare I say it? — it’s rather exciting! For example, we have to remodel part of our basement to continue shoe-horning this family into thi...
During my family’s Tour de Colorado, we have visited many perfect places but have never had the perfect day. You parents know what I’m talking about: when the destination’s private universe comes to life and the children do not beat each other to a pulp. I had the perfect day in Crested Butte, my choice for Colorado’s best mountain festivals for families. It had the potential to be a nightmare. My husband could not join us until partway through the trip, leaving me to endure a 4.5-hour drive from Denver with two young children but all went smoothly. When we arrived at the idyllic mountain resort, we checked into our perfect accommodations: The Lodge at Mountaineer Square. The perfection was not just the beautiful rooms and rooftop pool but also location, location, location. Situated at the...
Our television recently died. Well, six weeks, four days and 12 hours ago if you’re counting (which is what I thought my husband would do). I know this would send many people into a panic but let me assure you we still have two other televisions–one in the basement and another tucked away in our bedroom. Both rarely get used due to their locations. The television in our family room had become as much a part of us as the family pet. Except we don’t own any animals. We did, however, feed our television daily. Sometimes several meals a day. We formed the habit of turning on the children’s cartoons as they ate breakfast. Out of laziness, it would sometimes remain on for a couple of hours as we went about our day. We would turn off the television for the often-insipid da...
An Interview with Terri Libenson: Mom, Cartoonist, and the Creator of The Pajama Diaries What’s your favorite section of the paper? It’s okay to admit it. You can pretend to like another section if you want, but I’m not afraid to admit the truth. My favorite section is the funny pages. You know what I’m talking about…the comics.
Steamboat Springs was the third stop on my family’s Tour de Colorado and my pick for the state’s best mountain community. Our visit to this western resort town was also The Good, the Bad and the Ugly incarnate. When it was good (such as when my daughter Hadley won the ram scramble at the rodeo) it was very, very good. When it was bad, it was very bad with vomit and rain. But when we locked ourselves out of the car while it was still running? Think very, very ugly. The Good Steamboat Springs is home to two ski areas, four Colorado State Parks, hot springs, lakes and rivers–a full palette of activities that will have you painting the Yampa Valley red. Or rather, dazzingly green. Hiking—I’m not generally one to cough up money to hike but watching my kids squeal with glee as ...
Today, June 30th, marks a milestone in our family. Is it a birthday? No. Is it a wedding anniversary? No. It’s the anniversary of our first trip to the ER with Claire. We do things big around here. I mean, if you’re gonna go, go all out. There was blood. There were paramedics. Did I mention all the blood? But, all’s well that ends well, and in reality, it was something that really couldn’t have been avoided. It was just a bonk on the head that happened to require stitches. Claire tripped and hit her head on a rather innocuous upholstered chair, and did so just right that it split her forehead open. I learned some things that day: Wow. Head wounds can gush! Quentin Tarantino would have been impressed with the aftermath in our living room. I can remember all of my First Aid Training in the m...
My kids have never eaten baloney, cottage cheese, or plain Cheerios. They’ve never been subjected to rhubarb, which I’ve heard is so awful it must be engulfed in strawberries or the unfortunate gobbler may die of grossness. They’ve never known the earthy-oozy tastes of soy milk, bleu cheese, feta, tofu, or tapioca pudding. Gosh, those are some picky kids!, you might think. But I’m the person who doesn’t like any of the above. I never buy, prepare, or serve foods that have been on my ick-list for decades. Pickiness begets pickiness, so I’ve witnessed my prejudices become a part of my kids culinary sensibilities. Blame Me. My family is known for having dark hair, blue eyes, and a certain panicked look on our faces when cottage cheese is near. I’m not...
Guest blogger Janalee Chmel is co-owner of “MA! motherhood with attitude” (Mile High Mamas’ pick for the most hilarious mom-oriented cards on the market) and is a Denver-based freelance writer. My heart is pounding as I write this because it feels sort of like “coming out.” Where to begin??? Welp, how about on January 28, 2010. January 28, 2010. That is the day I am due to deliver Baby #3. Yes, I am knocked up. Bun in the oven. “TIN ROOF! RUSTED!” (google it) Noooo, this was not planned. OK, so here I am, 40 years old, children at ages 7 and a 6, and one on the way. Suffice it to say, I’m scared. YES, this is a blessed event. YES, “everything will work out,” as my husband Dave and I keep hearing from our giggling friends. But this is quite scary. Let me lay it on ya: * No...
I have loved Tessa from the the moment I knew of her existence, but the lovin’ wasn’t proven until she was about 3 months old. My husband Rob had a conference in Costa Rica one summer, and I didn’t want to miss the chance to travel with him. So we recruited two babysitters — the kind who buy their own airline tickets and hotel room — a.k.a “parents.” Mine. Three-month-old babies have a surprising amount of stuff. Clothing, diapers, wipes, and (in our case) formula, bottles, washing paraphernalia and drool cloths. One of the bulkiest things a baby needs is a bath. I envisioned getting on the plane with all her stuff and my stuff and a car seat and a stroller, and it was easy to decide we could do without the bath. I’d just have her take a bath...