Toilet trouble...

I thought I could take 10 minutes to check my e-mail, facebook, etc.  without incident.  I am stupid.  Very, very, stupid. 

In the time it took me to sit down and get on the internet, Sam had gotten a cup off the bar, taken it to the back, opened a door that he's not supposed to open, dipped the cup in the toilet water, and, well, he drank it.  Disgusting. If you see us today, you may want to refrain from kissing my child.

The good news is I cleaned the toilets yesterday. 

Home again, home again, jiggity jig...

Yes, we finally made it home.  I have never been so happy to set foot on familiar soil.  Of course, the Memphis Airport greeted our 10:40 p.m. flight by taking over an hour to get our luggage off the plane.  Sweet, sweet, people--they really know how to serve.

Do you ever take vacations only to get home and feel like you need a vacation after your vacation?  That's how we felt.  We were tired, our clothes were dirty, and our house was filthy.  It was not a fun way to kick off the week.  I can't complain too much, though.  We had a great time, and I've held off from posting pictures because my brother was supposed to be sending me all of the pictures that he took.  He hasn't.  (That's right, Blake--I'm calling you out.)  My camera is a huge Canon Rebel, (which I love)  but its size isn't conducive to taking pictures while skiing.  Or attempting to ski.  Or falling down--a lot. 

Our first day in Aspen, we were pretty tired since Sam had kept us up the night before with his illness.  We also got slapped in the face with some serious altitude.  An elevation of 7,890 feet takes some serious adjustment.  Walking up 6 steps makes you feel like your heart will jump out of your chest.  Anyway, we did take a gondola to the top of Aspen Mountain and have some drinks, so that was a beautiful and yummy way to kick off our trip. 

The lifts to Aspen Mountain.

Top of the mountain.

On our second day, we ate a delicious breakfast of oatmeal pancakes--yummers.  The rest of the day we took advantage of Aspen's awesome, clean, FREE public transit, and tooled around town.  

I honestly don't remember where this is, but it's pretty, isn't it?

My brother and me.  I know, I know...why is he so tall and I'm so short?  I've asked myself that question many, many times. 

Blake and Anthony

The Frozen Marshmallow and Anthony

And on the third day, God said, "Let the land produce vegetation."  Kidding--wrong third day.

On our third day, I "learned" how to ski.  This consisted of falling down--over and over and over again.  My brother is primarily a snowboarder, so he helped the best he could, but I was on my rear the majority of the day.  I managed to get off the ski lift properly the first time but immediately fell down.  Here's what people don't tell you about learning to ski---it's really, really, hard to get up once you fall.  At least it was for me.  And the snow on the bunny slopes was pretty darn packed, so I have a couple of really nice bruises.  I thought my entire backside was going to be 9 shades of purple, but it wasn't as bad as I had predicted. 

I did have a small panic attack getting off the lift the 4th go round because my ski got tangled in Anthony's.  I did what any sensible person would do...when Anthony got off, I just stayed on.  They had to stop the lift to get me off.  At that point, I just didn't care that I looked like a complete idiot.  I laughed at myself a lot that day--a whole lot. 

By my last few runs down the bunny slopes, I had gotten the hang of it enough to stay upright.  Given, I made myself go as slowly as possible.  I wasn't bending my knees and flying down hills; I was just trying to remain on my feet.  It was a victory in my book. 

We stayed at a great condo in Snowmass Friday night, and skied there on Saturday.  Luckily, Blake's girlfriend is a fabulous skier, and she was there to coach me through that day.  Bless her heart--she's used to going much, much, faster on much harder slopes, but she stuck by me throughout the day.  I don't think I thanked her enough for her patience with me. 

I had a lot of fun on Saturday.  Mind you, I still fell down on the ski path, off the ski path, in trees, you name it.  My crew convinced me I was ready for a "green,"  and I decided to go for it.  I made it okay except for one hill where I got a little out of control and couldn't stop.  Everybody was waiting for me, and I just kept going--I truly ate it in a major way.  Head first, snow in my mouth, you name it. 

We hung out at the bar at the bottom of the mountain to watch the Dawgs beat Vandy, and it was a great way to cap off a fun day.  All in all, it was super fun, and I would definitely like to go again. 

But I don't think I'll fly into Aspen Airport.  Unless it's summer. 

"Look kids. Big Ben, Parliament."

We've had a great time in Aspen--really, we have.  And I'll give full disclosure complete with ridiculous pictures of me in ski gear at a later date.  Right now, all I want to do is complain.  Forgive me. 

We were supposed to have left Aspen yesterday at 5:45.  By around 11:00 last night I was suppposed to have seen my child, kissed his fat cheeks, and rejoiced at being back home  No such luck. 

We got to the airport yesterday around 4:30 only to be greeted by a really long check-in line.  At first, I was just worried about the length of the line.  Then it hit me--the line wasn't moving.  At all.  Anthony went to check the departure board.  When he came back, the look on his face wasn't reassuring.  He then said words that I absolutely didn't want to hear, "Our flight to Denver is delayed.  We're going to miss our connection."  Let me tell you, it was all I could do not to cry.  We continued to wait in an epic line in order to speak with the airline about our options.  After waiting about an hour and 1/2, the attendant came over the loud speaker and announced that our flight was now canceled.  I thought I would puke.  Everyone in line around us was panicking, including me.

Flights couldn't get out due to high winds in the mountains. 
Snow was due to move in overnight.
All flights the next day were completely booked because of spring-breakers, and even those flights might not get out.
All shuttles to Denver had already left for the day.

And did I mention there was a huge rock slide last week that blocked part of the highway from Aspen to Denver?

I'm pretty sure I looked completely crazed.  Actually, I know I did.

As I continued to stand in a meaningless line, Anthony left to see what else we could do.  He returned with rental car keys and the news that we were going to make the supposedly 3 hour drive to Denver so that we could hopefully have more options.  As we were leaving, we noticed another desperate-looking woman with a 7-year-old boy.  Anthony stopped and offered to give her a ride.  As soon as she opened her mouth, we knew she was from the South.  Hilarious.  Turns out she's from Memphis, TN. 

So there we were--4 Southerners heading out in a rented Toyota Corolla trying to drive to Denver.  We made it with relative ease through the rockslide area, and we felt like we had made the right decision.  Until it started pouring snow and ice.  Nothing is more reassuring than seeing signs that say, "Sharp incline ahead,"  or, "Check your brakes,"  or, "Trucks must use tire chains," as your husband is driving through mountains on solid sheets of ice.  I prayed a lot last night--a whole lot.  It went a little something like this--"Dear God, just please let us see our child again.  I don't want him to be an orphan."

After driving for almost 2 hours in the ice, we decided to pull over and check into a hotel.  It was after 10:00, and we were exhausted.  Poor Anthony was spent, and he didn't think we should risk driving in the ice any more even though we were less than 20 miles from Denver.  We all agreed.

After checking in, we got on the phone with the airline again and tried to reschedule our flight.  We got some pretty good news--they could get us on a 10:45 flight today, which would put us in Memphis at 2:30.  Awesome.  The lady confirmed the flight and said she would e-mail us the itinerary.  There was just one problem--when we got the itinerary we understood why it was so easy for her to reschedule--she booked our flight for January 15, 2011.  I am not making this up.  We had to call back, AGAIN.  We finally got in touch with a lady who understood our situation, and she explained that the only flight available was a 7:30 flight tonight.  They couldn't do anything more because flights were already a mess due to storms here and on the East Coast.  Everything left was booked because of spring break.

So here I sit, in a hotel in Evergreen, CO, praying that our 7:30 flight tonight actually gets off the ground.

If they make a sequel to Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, we may be starring in it.

"Harry, my hands are freezing."

Salutations from the Rocky Mountain State!  While most of you are enjoying the arrival of spring, we are learning that March does not equal warmth in Aspen, CO.  It was supposed to be about 76 degrees in Memphis yesterday.  Tonight the low here will be 3.  Yes...3. 

We're out for a brief and much-needed visit with my youngest brother.  Boy, talk about a different culture.  This place is beautiful, clean, and ski-obsessed.  The town is so nice you almost feel like you're on a movie set.  We are going for my first attempt at skiing tomorrow morning.  It should be comical to say the least.  I'm sure I'll have lots of funny anecdotes after that experience. 

As for Sam, my parents are keeping him for us.  Of course, the night before we left, he decided that he would get sicker than he's ever been in his short life .  I was up with him literally all night long--I think I got a total of 1 1/2 hours of sleep that night.  High fever, coughing, vomiting...just awful.  We tried to push our flight, but since we couldn't, my parents and older brother graciously took control.  They took him to the pediatrician and he was diagnosed with a double ear infection AND strep throat.  One word--PITIFUL.  Say a prayer that he recovers soon. 

Home Sweet Home?

We have exciting news...No, I'm not pregnant--sorry to disappoint.  A few weeks ago we sold our house!  We've now gone through the inspection, and it looks as if everything is going to go through.  We couldn't be more excited or more thankful, especially since the housing market is still in such a quagmire.  We had actually decided to take the sign out of our yard during December, and we thought we'd try again as it got warmer.  Before we put the sign back out, a realtor called us saying that a young couple had seen our house in the fall, and they were interested in taking a look.  We didn't really want to get our hopes up, but they loved it.  Fingers crossed, we will close on April 23rd.

Which brings me to my other exciting news--we think we have found our new home.  We signed a contract yesterday and are now waiting on an inspection on that house.  I am beyond thrilled to (hopefully) have more space.  Since Sam's arrival, space has been at a premium, and we have been in serious need of more storage room.  It's a tiny bit sad, though.  Our current house is where Anthony asked me to marry him, it was our first home, and it's been Sam's only home. I will be a little teary the day we close the doors for the last time.  I have been either completely overwhelmed or so excited I feel I will burst. 

Have I already picked out paint colors? Yes.

Have I already been looking at new furniture? Yes.

Do I have file folders filled with decorating ideas? Yes.

Am I jumping the gun?  Probably.  So pray for my sake and my sanity that this process goes well and works out.  So far, so good.