"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. 

Epic hair...

Check out Sam's post-nap afro.  I prayed and prayed for his curls--God certainly delivered.  I love them so much. 

Blah...

It's not been a fun weekend, folks.  I take that back--it started out fun, but ended pretty miserably.  Friday night we actually paid for a babysitter and went out to eat with some friends.  We had a great time...until about 5:45 Saturday morning.  That's when I got sick--really sick.  I'm talking 12 hours of not-keeping-anything-down-I-didn't-realize-my-toilet-looked-like-this-please-God-make-it-stop-vomit.  I could hardly stand up I was so weak.  TMI? Probably...you'll just have to forgive me.  I feel better today, mainly thanks to a phenergan I was able to keep down long enough to take effect.  I am still tired, and my whole body is sore. 

While I was sickly, my sweet husband took care of Sam, me, and the house.  He got me anything I needed and was Dr. Dad for the day.  However, when I finally emerged from our bedroom this morning, it looked like Geoffrey the Giraffe had gotten sick all over our living room. I give you exhibit A:

No, our house is not in Baghdad, and no, we were not burglarized.  This is how much damage an almost-2-year-old can do when everyone is just trying to survive.  He had "colored" all over the tile floor, gotten out every ball he owns, broken his chair, and dumped his blocks out in the center of the room.  Walking through there was like dodging land mines.  Notice the bar stools on their sides...that's because Sam climbs up them and gets on the counter.  He thinks it's hilarious to do this over and over.  We don't. 

Exhibit B: 

I thought you might get an even better idea of the destruction if you saw a different angle.  Can you believe the mess?  I promise my house usually looks better than this.  After about an hour and 1/2 of clean-up, it was finally back to normal.  Moral of the story--I shouldn't get sick again.  Ever.

From the mouths of babes...

Sam is pretty much a parrot these days, so we're having to watch every word that comes out of our mouths.  I'm not sure that we're doing a great job with that, though.  Yesterday Sam had some funk on his nose, so I got a wipe to clean up his face.  As I was scraping away the nastiness, he pointed to his nose and said, "boogers."  Lovely.  I'm pretty sure his daddy taught him that one because I know I didn't. 

As pretty much everyone knows, we got quite a bit of snow last week, and I have failed to put up our snow pictures.  I apologize. I'm sure you've been dying to see Sam in action.  Sambo wasn't too thrilled with the cold.  It probably has something to do with the "snowball" his daddy threw at him, but that's just my guess.  Some tears were shed after that. 

Lately he's gotten very particular about his hands being messy, so that probably also jaded his opinion of the white stuff.  I don't think that he'll like building sandcastles this summer if this phase continues.  Seeing how he deals with the beach ought to be a hoot.

Before his dad threw snow at him.  Notice my use of his socks for gloves.  Classy.

Post snowball = not happy.

I love this hat--I think it's hilarious.  I got it on sale at the Gap a few weeks ago for $5.  Best purchase ever.

He wasn't too sure about the snowman.  I guess it is kind of creepy if you think about it.

Seriously?

Not a fun week in the Sherman household.  We kicked off Monday with a lovely fever of 102 for the Samster and a nice little ear infection.  Needless to say, he did not attend "school" on Tuesday.  I had high hopes that he would be able to go on Thursday and attend his  Valentine's Party on Friday.  No such luck. 

Homeboy decided to toss, turn, and scream all night long last night--possibly worse than he ever did as a little-bitty-baby.  We chalked it up to heading into the terrible-twos...until we changed his diaper this morning.  In case you mothers (and fathers) out there didn't know,  you can get hand, foot, and mouth disease more than once.  We discovered this lovely bit of info firsthand this morning.  Not cool...not cool at all.  We will have to essentially quarantine the kid for the next few days, which means I may lose my mind.  I may be the only person in America whose kid has gotten this twice. I'm sure I"ll be nominated for Mother of the Year.

On top of all this fun, they are now predicting "White Death '10"  to hit sometime tomorrow or Friday.  I'm all for a good snow, especially since we don't ever see the fluffy stuff, but it's February.  In Mississippi, I think that should count as spring.  Don't you think?

I have no fun news to report.  Sorry to disappoint.  I would appreciate it if anyone has suggestions for keeping my baby comfortable while this stuff runs its course...again. 

I'm off to Lysol my house.