June Cleaver Nirvana

Here at nirvana headquarters we are into day two of complete sickness. Our sick count has increased from 3/5 to a full 100%. The boys in our bed last night also reached an all time high of 100% by 1 am. Huddled masses of attack arm and legs yearning to be free of cough and chills. Needless to say, I don't think that event helped my and blog-Stedma's sleep. I have been doling out medication like a pharmacy every 4 hours around the clock. This is a full service gig. There are two postive things to report: When everyone is sick then the energy level is condusive to a 12 hour Tom & Jerry marathon with breaks to watch Wacky Races. And, I caught up on the missing Project Runway episodes.

Thank you for all your well wishes yesterday. You may want to go wash your hands after reading this...

My head feels like this (minus the natural beauty):
My nose feels like this (minus the baby cuteness):I feel like I am under this (minus a snorkel):


I feel like I have been run over by these pushed by screaming children (minus any novel wonderment):I have to stay alive awake to minus any of this:

Isn't being a sick mom glamorous?

Over the last few years I have developed a more strained relationship with General Mills. The American mommy public has been at its mercy its biggest demographic for 62 years. At first, I delighted in setting out little piles of cheerios on the highchair tray for baby to wrangle into his mouth. I laughed hysterically when my 1 year old "helped himself" to breakfast spilling 3/4 of the cheerio box onto the floor and then sat in the middle while stuffing his face. I even bought one of those cheerio dispensers for easy diaper bag packing. But I have been noticing that even though my children are getting older, I am still dealing with this:

I totally understand the messy baby throwing cheerios onto the floor and the mess that creates, but this is different. This is cheerio black magic. This is a serious cheerios problem. I calculate that we have a cheerio bowl loss of in excess of 20%. That makes the ratio of cheerios to tummy vs. cheerios to floor a staggering 5:1. Wow! 1/5 of the cheerios I buy doesn't build a stronger child body. This is a crisis that must be far reaching. So I checked-out Cheerios.com for a loss prevention guide. I figured with a problem this big there would be committees meeting at GM at multiple levels on the mommy's behalf. No, there was not even a mention of this, not a word. This must be the secret that must remained hushed. The information that could bring the company down if recognized. I fear for my safety in exposing this dirty truth.
I then look for motivation, could there be some sort of cheerio conspiracy? Could it be that General Mills have majority stockholder interest in brooms or even fancy vacuums?Could the secret behind the loss be to fuel these other investments? There could be some sort of secret formula inside of the wholesome goodness of cheerios that causes them to jump spontaneously from the bowl. It could be magnetic. It could be a Mexican jumping bean titration. It could be tiny suction cups that time release.I don't know, but it makes you wonder. And wonder. And wonder. Then I wonder about the "kid-tested, mother-approved" General Mills product KIX. I don't know who those mothers were that approved it, but I would have sent the product back to the drawing board until it came back square in shape. The spherical shape flies effortlessly through the air or rolls with ease. This is a picture of 3 rouge KIX that were found yesterday in my living room approximately 35 feet from the closest table. That is a serious distance for a cereal to travel.Need I say more?

It is potluck Monday and I am just too busy to cook, but MeL just emailed me that I should serve "a good egg and sausage casserole (that) sounds good and fating". So MeL is bringing the food and google has yet another contribution to crazy new words that will bring you right here to nirvana headquarters. It is a win/win situation. For my vegetarian readership, I offer left-over mac and cheese, but it isn't just any mac and cheese (because I didn't make it!) it has spinach, tomatoes, onions and is just yummy. It was made by my personal chef for last evening. I could get used to living that life.

The lovely Kristian at Lessons in Motherhood tagged me for the following meme: Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself. This whole blog falls under this category so just 6 should be a break for my dear readers. Please go visit her and send good thoughts as she makes a big transition (and see a very cute baby picture).
1. I am a project girl. I prefer short-term projects because I am also #2. These projects then consume my life and thoughts and I try to come up for air occasionally to visit raise my children.
2. I am an instant-gratification girl, BUT realize this and try to temper it. I see no reason why dessert shouldn't be served only first.
3. I like Dr. Pepper and wish to drink it continuously (because of #2).
4. I am obsessed with family photos and digitially scrapbook every single waking moment (and a few sleeping ones) of my children's lives. I am only 5 years behind in this project which makes my issues quirky qualities #1 and #2 drive me to near insanity.
5. I wish I was sailing.
6. I could live the life of Becky Bloomwood-Brandon, but fear it wouldn't turn out as well.

The beautiful Sandy from Momisodes
sent over this this sweet award.
Thanks so much Sandy--I am in total blog nirvana. All I can say is that you better get over to her site because when I went to check the links there were pictures of a pregnancy test along with a very funny story.

Dear reader,
Thank you so much for reading. Thank you so much for commenting. If I could ever get up the energy to tackle photoshop, I would make you a super-cool award. It is because of you that this fabulous thing happened to me (see, I can twist anything into something about me). You voted! And....drumroll....a dramatic pause...I won the caption contest over at the fabulous Mrs. Fussypants! Yeah! Thanks so much for your support. Mrs. Fussypants, in her charming over-achieving ways is rolling out two new websites in the near future. Be sure to take a look at a sweet peek at The Gentle Art of Ruling Your Husband. She is also up for a bloggie, so please go vote for her.
Sincerely,
Holly

Tooth Fairy Update: We had our first visit from the tooth fairy last night. Ryan's lower right front tooth was lovely "nudged" in the outward direction by Bampa yesterday. Mimi provided a small ceramic box in the shape of a crown (very fitting) to transport the newly released tooth. I did not cry, even a bit! The tooth was placed bedside and $5 was deposited while little boys slept. Ryan seemed to know the tooth fairy's going rate according to classmates. He stated, "It is 5 dollars for a tooth and I was told that by a boy who doesn't even act very nice" implying that unlike Santa, the toothfairy is neutral on poor behavior.

Don't stop here! There are more Weekly Winners listed here (and I am suspicious you may see some more goats)...

I am being interrupted by drama. The drama that can only be wrought by a distraught 2 year old frustrated by lack of parental understanding. He has two torn stickers and is insistent that I do something about it. I am trying everything, but nothing seems to be an appropriate response. Do you want them stuck together? Do you want them stuck together in this way? Do you want them stuck on a piece of paper? He is screaming and pleading and crying. His world is coming to an end over an unmatched pair of tiny sticky papers.

I should not be surprised. 6 months ago I had to ban bananas in the house because he was offended by peeling them. In offended I mean a 20 minute tantrum of horror because the banana peel was peeled too far down (I think...I never really did figure out the whole banana issue). So being a pick-my-battles kinda girl, I just said no to bananas until it blew over.

He also exhibited early bath issues. From months 3-15 he would STAND screaming in the sink as I hosed him off. Give me a break on the standing...I tried to cut him off at the knees only to have an increase in audible response. Then one day he wanted to bathe with brothers and all was well with the bath.

Then there was a nightly bottle. He demanded it. He would protest into the night without it. He would refuse a watered down bottle (I too, thought that was a brilliant mommy move on my part). When I mentioned bedtime, he mentioned bottle. When I mentioned bottle, he mentioned bedtime. Our nightly routine was a dream as long as it included the bottle. A few weeks after his second birthday I pointed out that he was 2 and too old for a bottle. He asked the first night, I responded, "you are two!" and drama over. He laid down and went to sleep never to mention the bottle except in his cute little teasing way...."bottle?" accompanied by grin.

I suspect drama is firmly implanted in the genetic code. I suspect that he received this special trait from his "X" chromosome. I suspect we will have drama issues for years to come. But along with crazy drama comes crazy drama as exhibited by the above bacon fang picture. He is such a silly soul. I try to be thankful for the whole dramatic package.

As for the stickers? He is sitting quietly on my lap with his head on the edge of the computer quietly watching me type while clutching the unmatched pair of tiny sticky papers...this drama is not over.

Children all over the metroplex are waking up horrified that the meteorologist promised ice storm did not materialize. Last night these children had willingly gone to bed with visions of all day TV festivals in their heads. I might have dampened their dreams by mentioning that the meteorologists in central TX are only a step above the ones I used to watch in LA in their prediction ability. When you can deliver the same weather report and be accurate 95% of the time there appears to be very little honing of weather predicting skills. The poor children of central Texas rarely see snow (although if there is a flake in the air, school is most certainly cancelled) and pin their hopes on ice storms for school relief. Mother Nature usually obliges at least once a year. The roads can be hazardous, but the real fear is other Texas drivers. STAY OFF THE ROADS. STAY OFF THE SIDEWALKS. STAY IN THE BACK BEDROOM OF YOUR HOUSE. The native Texas driver in large extended cab pick-up (man) or giant SUV (woman) has no bad weather driving experience yet shifts into 4WD like it is Magical Transport-To-Destination Mode (MTTDM). No need to remove cell phone from ear when you are in MTTDM! MTTDM requires no slowing of speed! Thank God for MTTDM. MTTDM lives up to its name until it encounters the other type of Texas driver: Super Slow, I May Die Instantly If My Car Registers A Speed On The Dial, Lord Help Me, I Should Have Stayed Home Until Spring Driver (SSIMDIIMYRASOTDLHMISHSHUSD). Yeah, these two groups should never, never mix. It gets ugly. Care Flight gets involved. The SSIMDIIMYRASOTDLHMISHSHUSD then has his worst fears confirmed. His destiny fulfilled. Hey Texas, I have a solution! This may sound crazy, but what if everyone just drove in a cautious manner with moderate speed and attention to the road? Since I haven't been able to get the novel message to the Texas masses, I will have to admit that I am glad the temps are above freezing today. Shhh...just don't tell the kids.

Today I feel like that 80s PSA: This is a brain. This is a brain on drugs. I am riding the highs and lows of my chosen drug, motherhood. This mind-altering drug creates emotional polarity. One event that prior to addiction would evoke amusement, now creates opposing, gut-wrenching reactions of elation coupled with horridity*. Why today to search my soul? Did I change my last diaper (Oh Lord that will be the day)? Did one of my children just get accepted to an Ivy League school (they are 2, 4 and 6 so please give me some time)? Did they form a committee and find the cure for the common cold (again, lets get some perspective here, 2,4,6!)? No, we have our first loose tooth. Yes, this is what has me spiraling on a mommytrip. That is how powerful the drug is. It has taken a low maintenance girl in the emotion department and created this monster-bear. Prior to children, I made fun of Hallmark commercials, now I tear up when I buy a card. Prior to children, I would sit with my mostly guy friends mocking the drama surrounding other girls, now I am creating my own drama and writing about it daily. Prior to children, life had some meandering, gentle bumps and curves, now I am frantically clutching the siderails on the ride of my life. Was it the pregnancy hormones? Was it the mother-child bond? Was it the adrenaline rush of the ride? What caused this addiction? For that I have no answer. For that I will have to search. For that I could start a local chapter of MA, Motherhood Anonymous. I don't want to cure my addiction, but maybe learn to manage it. So what about the impending tooth fairy visit? Please, dear fairy, can you give me just one more day to adjust...

*I realize this is not a word, but someday someone will google it and find this and use it and then another and another and someday you will use it with full knowledge that you heard it here first.

Today it is all about me. Remember you are under no contractual obligation to continue reading!


If you agree with me (and please do) that the obvious caption for this photo is:
"The Scientific proof that a toddler is as stubborn as a mule" then please go visit the fabulous Fussy and vote for me!. My intention was to work in both blog and prison references to the caption on my campaign manager's advice, but I thought I was already pushing it because it does appear that the picture may not contain either a confirmed toddler or a confirmed mule.

I started this blog last November because of a blog pusher a dear friend who doesn't have a blog problem. I hadn't been tagged for a meme until yesterday when I was tagged for two.

The first was by one of my favorites, Burgh Baby who linked to one of the funniest things I have read in a long time: faux Suess.
Anyway, here's the rules of the meme: Go back through your archives and post the links to your five favorite blog posts that you’ve written. But there is a catch:
Link 1 must be about family.
Link 2 must be about friends.
Link 3 must be about yourself, who you are… what you’re all about.
Link 4 must be about something you love.
Link 5 can be anything you choose.

1. I think this photo essay pretty much sums up my family and what lengths I will go to to get blog fodder on their behalf.
2. Before my stalker this dear friend had a blog, I wrote this to her and her current state of residence because I am just that kinda friend.
3. This will explain ALOT about...me!
4. This one was easy because despite all the complaining, I love being a mom to him and his 2 older brothers.
5. If you want to relive the 80s, please click here for a pre-blog-Stedman treat. If you want to see how laundry can drain my natural perkiness in a matter of hours, take a quick peek here then here.

I am tagging the following people to complete this mission if they choose to accept because it will save me time reading ALL their archives: A Mom Two Boys (come on, one more boy...everyone is doing it), Happy Campers who is on her way to a goat cheese farm, another mom who dares to drive a deadly weapon, 911 has nothing on her and she who married a childhood friend.

The other meme was brought upon my soul by Binky Ink who is nearly a family member. To her I am Mrs. X (although she thankfully has named me Mrs. M). If you want to check out the REAL scoop on this June Cleaver and this so-called Nirvana, reading her blog may be enlightening.

1. Name one thing you do every day: I take a bath every night, without fail, without excuse and could never live in a house without a tub.
2. Name two things you wish you could learn: I would love to learn to be a seriously good poker player, not just a pretender, but one of those that sits down and causes fear. I would also like to learn to comfortably public speak without peeing my pants or nervously causing a self-induced cardiac arrest.
3. Name three things that remind you of your childhood: Holly Hobby, rook and rootbeer floats.
4. Name four things you love to eat but rarely do: tirimisu, breakfast pastries--the fresh kind with fruit in the middle, croissants with butter and orange marmalade and chocolate lava cake.
5. Name five things or people that make you feel good: sitting with friend(s) at the park watching our kids play, looking in on my sleeping children, a dinner out with blog-Stedman, playing board games on a Saturday night and a pedicure.

For this one I am tagging the following people if they care to join in: the other person that missed the most provocative home school group ever!, the girl who had a third child to be just like me, a recipient of my blog pushing, someone who had to move all the way to Arkansas to start her blog and finally a new blog that I am really enjoying.

Today it has been all about me and someday I would like to be able to write like him.

Dear blog-Stedman,
You have known me for 18 1/2 years now and that has given you a long and persuasive argument that I ride the short bus in the technology department. You have always set up the new computers, TVs, TiVos, Replay TVs, VCRs, DVD players, Sonos, video games, and many other black boxes with buttons that I can't name. It is true I interact with Comcast, DirectTV, and Time Warner after you tell me what to say, but even their 19 year old phone bank employee sitting in India named "Bob" knows that I am a fake. I am requesting further inservice on our equipment. This is what I need to know how to do:
1. I would like to be able to change the channels on the TV.
2. I would like to record Project Runway once a week, but could give 24 hr. notice.
3. I would like to be able to make and receive phone calls on both my home and cell phone.
4. I would like to be able to get on the computer to write a blog and read other's.

Is that too much to ask? Really, compared to all the tasks that are possible with our electronic set-up, I am a simple girl.

I am writing because today I am 1/4 on my list. I think it is obvious that I have only been able to access my blog. My home phone isn't working in my bathroom, my Project Runway didn't record last week and most disturbingly, I AM UNABLE TO CHANGE THE CHANNEL ON THE TV for the boys. Great, they are subjected to another "A Baby Story"--that won't come back to haunt us later. I have tried the 6 remotes at the TV, switched the input, cross-identified the 6 remotes at the TV, switched the input, held my tongue out while balancing on one leg while entertaining 3 boys about to witness a live screen birth, turn down the sound (because all that screaming is disturbing to me as well) and nothing. I give up...Oh, good...another episode of "A Baby Story"...

With love and irritated kisses,
Holly

For the potluck I am contributing my favorite "groovy granola" from Great Harvest Bread Company along with single serve Paris Senseo coffee with Vanilla Caramel coffeemate. My boys wish I was contributing the Froot Loop Cereal Straws that blog-Stedman bought them yesterday at Target while unsupervised. But have you seen the 12 g of sugar per serving? I think not! I tasted one and it is sweeter than most desserts because the inside of the straw is covered with frosting (obviously the regular flavor of Froot loops is not sweet enough to suck milk through).

Crazy baby has been attached to me for over a week now. He is touching me at all times, interacting with every activity, stating his opinion on how boring these activities are and demanding to be held minutely. I have been reminding him that his umbilical cord was cut at birth and a few foot separation from me wouldn't be the end of his little world. I know! I know! I know! I will long for these days when he is 16 and averting his gaze when I enter a room, but I just would like to pee unaccompanied.

I got a call last night from a political polling company. They spent 3 minutes explaining how the poll wouldn't take much of my valuable time. They then asked, "Do you think the country is headed in the right direction or wrong direction?" As soon as I answered, they stated that they were experiencing technical difficulties. It was so obvious that I had answered in an incorrect manner for their poll that I said, "so you didn't like that answer?" and they hung up on me. I suspect that this is one poll that will come out exactly as they need/want since they are disqualifying any pesky dissension. I wish that system would work for me at home.

I just was asked if I could take the baby away. This was followed by screaming from 2/3 boys...Then I heard "my brothers are bothering me". This was followed by screaming from 3/3 boys. I am experiencing technical difficulties...

When we returned home last night, I realized that I had left my toothbrush. I searched the drawer in my bathroom that contains things that I think I need at Target only to come home and realize that I thought that last time and the time before that that has extra supplies only to find the only two new toothbrushes in the house were a double pack of red power rangers. So, if you happen to visit my house and peek in my bathroom, this is what you will find*:



I will have to say that it is a pretty good toothbrush that is much nicer then what I would have picked out for myself.

*if you do visit, don't look to either side of this shot or you will see all the crap on my bathroom counter I pushed aside to take this picture.

Shhh...what makes this picture even more precious is that it was taken on the plane ride home yesterday.

Check out the other Weekly Winners!

We are on our way home. It is so sad to leave. The boys point to things like the winter lighted trees to explain that it is always Christmas here. It does feel like a holiday (only without the stress and need to decorate). They are also convinced that this is where Santa lives. I can't blame Santa. I would live here too if I/blog-Stedman only had to work one day a year.

We always come to the same place when we visit Colorado and have been visiting regularly for the past 3 years. It has come to feel like home to me so when we came last summer to find one of our favorite restaurants had closed and was under construction to become Spago's we became a little worried. Blog-Stedman was concerned that there would be nothing "normal" for him to eat. I was concerned that my all time favorite event would be cancelled--the massive breakfast buffet. It did not occur to me that Wolfgang Puck would come in and change the entire environment without even consulting me! Shocking, isn't it? Here is a little tour and then you can decide whether next time Mr. Puck would be better off calling me. For the record, here are my design credentials: 1) I am an avid watcher of HGTV. 2) I know what I don't like. 3) I decorated my own house 4) I even talked several other people into hiring me last summer. Now back to the tour:

This is the cool, rustic, contemporary art at the entrance to the restaurant. Love it! Love how it is edgy, yet fits into the Colorado surroundings.
This is a view from our breakfast table this morning. The left wall is big squares covered with leather that are down-right yummy. The space planning throughout is stellar with enough room between tables, yet you feel like you are in a cozy, private area.
Fun chairs! They are also surprisingly comfortable. Love the contrast between contemporary and western charm. They feel more TX than CO to me, but I will give them the benefit of the doubt on this one because they are so cool and I have no problem spreading a little TX charm around.
This is a HUGE wall to wall to ceiling black and white photo (you can see this in the room view above). There are several of these throughout. I really like them and am a huge sucker for any sort of b & w photography. Blog-Stedman thinks they were an afterthought to cram a little CO into the design.
This is the booth where we ate dinner. Love the booth! They have walls between booths so you feel like you are in your own little room. The dinner was quite an event. It was both dinner and entertainment with a whole cast of people doing this and that at your table...bringing things, taking things, cutting things, pouring things, removing things. It was very well choreographed. The food was above average and the over all experience was great. Unfortunately, they have priced blog-Stedman and I out of the ability to do this very often. Back to design. This is where I think things came together the best. I love the existing rock wall peeking out behind the sleek furniture.
This is what you see from the hotel lobby when looking into the bar. You can see more of the fun chairs turned bar stools. The bar also has little booth-like areas seen to the right which are really cool. BUT, they lost all sense of Colorado here. The floor is a most amazing glassy tile not larger than 1 inch x 2 inch bricks that just shimmer in a more Florida feel. The partitions throughout the bar and restaurant are made of bamboo in gentle shades of orange, red and green. I love them, but they have no business being in a Colorado lodge. It makes the whole place seem like it should be in a warmer climate which is a little unsettling when you are sitting there in different levels of ski attire.
This is another view of the bar from the hotel lobby. One shot just doesn't do it justice. It is so fabulous, but...
this is what you see from that same spot in the lobby when you turn 45 degrees. It is so weird that designs that oppose each other so strikingly are sitting next to each other in the same room.
Here you can see through the bar into the big Colorado lodge room on the other side. It really feels like someone designed this bar and restaurant without ever visiting the location. I would feel much more comfortable and happy if it were sitting in the middle of Dallas, Palm Springs or Orlando. It just doesn't fit in the rustic lodge. I really believe they could keep the modern look if it were better mixed with rustic, earthy, Colorado things. The first thing I would do is replace every piece of bamboo in the whole place with something like a small stone tile or chunky dark wood. I would have the fabulous bar floor taken to my house and replaced with something that better flowed with the outside lobby like funky slate. I would emphasize colors like moss green and eliminate the pastel oranges and reds. I would replace the light fixtures in the main dining room because they are currently too small and I think something huge and rustic might be quite delightful there. So, Mr. Puck if you need any more advice, please contact me. I am sure I would be much cheaper to hire then your original design team.

PS--I may just be a bit bitter over the cancellation of the massive breakfast bar...

BEFORE:
AFTER:

I have personally met the most patient person currently living on this earth. Her name is Karen and she teaches children to ski. She deals with little kids, non-skiing kids, kids from TX that don't even know how to put on mittens, kids that think eating cough drops is a big treat, kids that tell each other how to ski when they themselves don't know, kids that are afraid to go up the hill, kids that brag that they already have been up the hill, kids that complain, kids that complain, kids that complain and then on top of that she deals with these kids' parents. I don't know how she does it, but she does it with a smile and while singing some sort of skiing related instructional song. It is precious. It is crazy. It is miraculous.

That is my thought after spending a fun evening. We went to dinner up the mountain in an open sleigh pulled by a snow cat. The last time we did it we were cold and facing up the mountain. Tonight we were facing down the mountain and even though it was very chilly, the view was amazing. So amazing (and I forgot my camera for the first time all week...ugh). The restaurant was cozy, the food great and the company super fun. Afterward we came down the mountain, sat in Spago's bar and played cards. Really, does it get much better than that? Quite possibly heaven on earth...a REAL vacation...yeah. I wish you were all here to join in. I would have loved beating you at gin rummy ( oh, I forgot, I didn't win...details, details...it was great anyway). Sweet dreams to all...

Sunday was my 38th birthday and it was fabulous. I spent the morning skiing (OK, maybe it was fabulous starting AFTER the 3rd run down the hill when I regained my balance--it has been a year). The afternoon was spent helping friends who joined us get settled in and the evening was...well, it went like this:

We got the kids situated with sitters and set out for Vail. We walked around the town for awhile stopping in some of my favorite shops. These are the kind of shops you can spend an evening just looking because the prices would evoke heart failure. I had made reservations several weeks ago at a very popular Vail restaurant and we headed that direction when the time came. We were seated in a cozy booth and mulled over the menu. It was then that I noticed that they had "Turbot" on the menu. This was amusing because last week I had come across that word for the first time and blog-Stedman had looked it up on Wikipedia to pacify my curiosity. According to Wikipedia, turbot is a desired white fish and is pronounced "turbit". Wikipedia also mentioned that many people assume it is a French word and pronounce it "turbo", but that is really not the case and the French actually pronounce it "turbit". We related this story to our friends because we thought it was funny that we are so crazy that we actually looked up this word. When the waiter came back to take our order, one of our dinner companions asked how the "turbit" was prepared. The waiter patiently answered his question and pronounced it back in a corrected sort of way "turbo". This caused peals of laughter across the table. The waiter then asked if there was an inside joke and I explained we were crazy and had looked the word up on Wikipedia recently and that it was pronounced "turbit". The waiter handled it really well and made a little joke that the chef called it "turbo" which meant he called it "turbo". We continued to order. I went ahead an ordered the turbot, 2 at the table ordered beef and the other ordered a lamb dish. Soon our salads came and we started enjoying them. It was then that we realized that they hadn't taken our drink orders and we started looking for our waiter. He seemed very occupied with relating his ski adventures to fellow waiters and didn't make eye-contact. Our table was right by the kitchen and right in front of the computer where all the orders were entered so it became pretty obvious that we were being ignored. Finally, we grabbed him and got something other than ice water to drink. Then we sat and sat and sat. An hour went by and we still hadn't seen our entrees. We tried to ask, but were still being ignored. Finally, the food came and instead of what we ordered we ended up with 2 turbot orders, one beef and one lamb. We sent the second turbot order back. The problem at this point is that we just waited over an hour for them to cook our food so any replacement beef would arrive well after everyone at the table was finished so we decided to just share what we have and make the best of it. Several waitstaff came by to offer replacement beef, but we just were sharing. The waiter came by and apologized stating that it was his fault. The manager came by and tried to make things right, but really at this point we were just eating and they had done enough. He later came back to offer dessert and coffee which we took him up on. My dessert had a candle in it and a "happy birthday" written in chocolate which was very nice. Throughout the dinner we had been laughing and talking and having a great time. The turbot mix-up was handled in good mood at our table, but we had mentioned to the manager that it had taken them over an hour to bring the wrong order to us and our waiter had spent the evening ignoring us. In the end, the manager sent us on our way without a bill...any bill. That was surprising, but honestly probably the right thing to do. It was a situation where none of us would have ever returned to the restaurant without this gesture. So the question of the night is...was the turbot the root of all our angst?

Last time we flew we took crazy baby without a car seat. This was a serious mistake. I had planned on taking the car seat on the plane with us, but the curbside check-in guy said it would not fit and we needed to check it. I should have realized that his judgement was impaired when he subsequently held our luggage and my ID hostage for a tip. This trip I was not going to be swayed by greedy curbside check-in guy. Nope, I was mommy on a mission toward a peaceful flight. Last time we needed a treadmill for crazy baby between mommy and daddy. This time I was planning a book to read. Last time we pulled crazy baby from exploring the aisle. This time I was hoping to catch up on some ipod tunes. Last time we restrained crazy baby from smiling and waving to fellow disinterested and annoyed travelers. This time I was hoping to be one of those disinterested and annoyed travelers.

This is Rhett at the airport on our trip out of town. So much has happened I want to tell you about...there is continued suburban angst even on vacation...please come visit later when I have more time!

If only we could pack them in the checked luggage...

My blue power ranger has been asking all sorts of questions about his kind. "Do power rangers sleep?", "how long is a power ranger's bed?", "are power rangers faster then a jet?", "do power rangers eat really fast?", "are power rangers afraid of the dark?", "are power rangers bigger then adults?". They have been a bit difficult to answer since neither of us has ever watched a single episode of a power ranger TV show or read a power ranger book. This obsession was originally born out of his deep and intense love for the color blue.

We are traveling on a jet plane tomorrow (sorry, the "jet" part just sounds so cool next to plane) to a week worth of ski nirvana. There has been much discussion as to how to get the power ranger suit to our destination without crushing the mask or losing any of the precious pieces. I then suggested we should....wash it. I am only thinking of other resort goers here...it is disgusting! So after a very long power ranger meeting, blue agreed. I held my breath the whole time the flimsy suit was being "hand washed" with woolite in the washer for fear blue's muscles would puff through the luxurious 100% double-knit polyester shell like popcorn. I am happy to report that other then some additional snags and a few remaining spray-and-wash resistant stains, it made it through the ordeal and the people of CO should thank me.

Two monumental things happened today. My steri-strips fell off and revealed that I am not horribly disfigured (listen people, you asked for this picture...). I also got my hair colored (which is why pulling back my hair is not revealing the dreaded...GRAY). I have been a blonde all my life, but recently it has become obvious that I am no longer blonde. In an attempt to keep my color trips to twice a year because I am cheap get in touch with the real me, I have been asking for a hair color that matches my roots, but my hairdresser (do we still use that term?) has said no. She told me that she never changes a person's hair color until they have been there 3 times. Who makes these rules? Why do I play along? So, I was a little irritated when last visit, my third visit, I was again turned down. So today, channeling the alter-ego persona of Power Mom, I was not going to take no for an answer. After a long discussion and comments like "I don't recommend it", "are you scared" and "it wasn't MY idea" (by the way, those are never fun things to hear when you can't see what is going on up there even when you are super confident super hero in disguise) she did it and....I am not horribly disfigured! I actually like it and am trying out my new brunette spunk.

PS--the ring is courtesy of blog-Stedman in honor of what he refers to as the longest years of his life our 16th anniversary--yeah!