I was singing like a bird yesterday morning with everything moving like clockwork. It was going to be my first day spent without the children. Coffee was brewing and pancakes were steaming. Axel and Brevitt woke up early so that they could get to Mountain Boarding camp on time and Tucker had gone to sleep talking about the Bouncy House that he was going to jump on all the next day. I looked outside and it was sunny for the first time in months and my bike was sitting outside waiting for me to take off on it. It was going to be a perfect day.

I went to wake up sleepy Tucker and my singsong day came to a screeching halt. His eyes were glued shut with gook. My mood plunged into deep despair as I told him that it looked like he was going to have to miss his day at camp. The day took a complete 180. The chanting began and my head started spinning, “I want to go to the bouncy house and I’m going to repeat myself all day until I get to go”. I desperately looked at Wade to fly in, as he usually does, and save the day. “Tucker looks fine to me? Doesn’t he to you”, I pleaded. He looked at me with his beautiful, sleepy eyes and apologetically rejected this request for him to save me. I am a freak about health and was the last person to expose other children to my infected boys, but couldn’t I today be evil and ignore the problem? Poor Tucker, so disappointed, and poor mommy.

By the end of the day my agitation had grown to a dangerous level. As adorable as Tucker was I was in no mood to answer his unwavering banter of questions. Nothing could pull me out of my self-pitying mode even when he said, “Why is that horse all alone in the field? He should giddyonup to the other horses so that he is not lonely”.

I cringed as his demands for me to listen to him increased on our long hour drive to the doctor. My intolerance level was at zero. Why couldn’t I just have one day off? WHY???? Finally I blurted out, “Please Tucker, pleasssse stop talking. Sometimes mommy needs to go into her own world and not have to answer questions all day long”. After a few moments of blessed silence his little voice inquired, “Mommy, are you going to ever come back from that world?” I had to think about it for a second.

I am ashamed that I was so annoyed by such a sweet, funny little boy. As a mother you have to learn how to easily switch tracks and accept changing circumstances. Yesterday, I was resentful that I had lost my anticipated day of freedom and little Tucker paid for it.

Wade came home from work and found me in the closest getting ready for yoga. I was met with his mating call, which I returned with, “I’m hormonal, my hair is trying to leave my body because it thinks it belongs in somebody’s nest, my head is about to blow off my body and I’m fat.” He backed off laughing and told me that I was the most beautiful when I felt the most unattractive. How could I run off to yoga after that comment? Easily!

I burst into yoga from the pouring rain, only to see that I had gotten the schedule all mixed up. They were already an hour into class. I was not going home.

I SOS’d my friends Karl and Melissa and they met me at Cafe Bernard, the most delicious french restaurant in Basalt, for an engaging evening of conversation and red wine. We sat with Bernard, the head chef and owner, and listened to his stories as we dined on his mouth watering sautéed Calamari and perfectly cooked Pomme Frites. It was a divine evening. An end to a magnificently horrible day and I felt fortunate that I was able to reap the benefits of small town living.

As I slipped into bed I reached out for my Wade and my hand rested on a very soft, silky head of hair…. Tucker! I exhaled a deep sigh and fell asleep knowing that tomorrow, hell or high water, I was going to get the day that I so desperately needed.

Last year, I went to a benefit with a girlfriend to support my brother in law. He is the Director of the Board of this commendable non-profit organization. Unfortunately, I was more of a liability than a help.

On this afternoon, one of my particularly free spirited, adventurous friends made a quick diversion to a local dive bar that was on the way to the benefit. I had driven by this bar every day and it had somehow escaped my eye. Curiosity got the best of me and with slight trepidation I followed her in. Time stopped, and so did the half dozen locals who were already sauced. Noticing the yeagermeister on tap, I realized that this was no ordinary pit stop. This place must be famous. To think that I had driven right by it all these years. Free shots were sent our way from one of the six barfly’s. Six tequila shots and half a dozen new friends later we stumbled out into the blinding evening light. Thelma and Louise were ready to spice up this benefit with our charm and tequila soaked grace.

In my insecure youth, tequila would expose my vulnerabilities, especially when I would drink it with my sisters. I would become a weak and emotional mess confessing my insecurities, “you don’t love me”, I would sniffle.  Like all older sisters, they would hand me a tissue and tell me to shut up and not be so dramatic. With age comes less insecurities and a greater ability to accept the alien substances that I consume.  Instead, I am filled with bravado, clairvoyance and an inner light that, I’m certain, emerges from all of my orifices.

The Live auction began at the benefit. My generous mother had donated her summerhouse in Nantucket to to be auctioned off. When the house came up I offered my services to help sell it. After all, I knew the place well. Taking the microphone away from the MC I gracefully stumbled onto the stage.  I asked, “how many people out there have ever been to Nantucket?” A few smiling people raised their hands inspiring me to go on. I was doing really well, starting my own comedy routine, when I got politely, but abruptly kicked off the stage. My normal sense of humility must have been taking a powder.

Then came the horse up for auction. We needed a horse, with gas prices so high this was the perfect solution. Plus we had a barn on our new land. The bidding began. My brother-in-law from across the table was aggressively shaking his head, no. His wife, my sister, was encouraging me to go forward. She had land where we could board the horse. Louise, my partner in crime, had a brother that broke horses in Wyoming – a fun road trip. $3,000 later I won the horse. All night, I was so excited. I knew he was in the field and I wanted to go meet him and talk to my new pet in the moonlight.  The horse people kept getting in my way with questions like, “How long have you been involved with horses?” and “what will you do with him in the winter time?” and “were you aware of the costs involved”? Slowly, I started to sober up. The only horses I knew were Spirit and Flicka.

The next morning, I woke up not so excited. How was I going to tell Wade? At breakfast I stated that, once again, I had bought something big at an auction. I gave him the choice of hearing the news before or after his pot of coffee. He chose the latter. When he was ready, I announced that we had bought a new, unbroken, two year old pet for the kids. Wade and the kids looked at me incredulously with sleepy eyes. They told me that they  did not want a horse and I was to give it back.

I called the Director of the Board and burdened the organization to reverse my actions. It occurred to me that maybe I should return to the dive bar  to eliminate the pain I felt for embarrassing my family and myself. On the brighter side, I have switched forever from yeagermeister to tequila. YEEEEHAAAWWWW!

Wade and I had a rough start getting the boys ready yesterday morning. Axel was moving slower than usual and Tucker woke up claiming that he hated ski school. Grumbling at each other I felt my mood plunging into anger.

We herded the boys into Vini-Man and finally got on the road. My mood started to improve when I realized that we were not going to be too late. It dipped again when Wade screeched the van to a halt and raced back to the house. He had packed all the kids gear and had forgotten his own. I tried to stifle my urge to state the obvious but it sputtered out anyway, “If you would just get Vini-Man loaded in the evening this would not happen”. He did not need to mention that it was my fault we were in this level of distress. After all it was I who had convinced him to dine at our friends’ house the night before. Our general rule is to stay home the night prior to ski school but I am not one to ever pass up an invitation to visit with friends.

We dropped off Tucker first at Powder Pandas. I was met with great resistance as I attempted to drag him to his instructor. All the tools learned from parenting classes were reverberating in my head but I didn’t have the time to use them. The boys were hiking up the Bowl and we couldn’t be late. I picked up Tucker in all of his ski clothes and hauled his 45pound mass of misery over to his teacher. Danny pleaded with me not to leave him with my crying child but today I had no choice. I apologized as I ran away shouting, “I’m sure you’ll both be fine”. I made a note to myself to increase Danny’s tip.

Wade raced on to the mountain as if he were driving in the Indy500. People watched as Vini-Man smoke out of the parking lot. The flames on the side of the van gave us away alerting all of our friends that the Livingston’s were late once again.

After dropping off the rest of the boys I took a deep breath and looked around. My veil of despondency melted away as I watched all of our friends gathering together. Saturdays on Aspen Highlands Mountain always reminds me of why I live in Colorado. After living in New York City I truly appreciate the value of living in a small town community where everybody knows one another.

In the beginning of the season the first ascent up to the top of Highlands is always a mixed bag of dread and excitement. Running into friends prior to hiking can affirm or relieve my fears. I dread the days when the bowl feels like Everest with high winds  howling off the face. The days I live for are when the temperatures are in the 30’s, the skiing is outrageous and the ski patrol is about to drop the gates on all of the supreme terrain. On these days my adrenaline rushes and turns me into a hyperventilating mess.

We hiked to the top of the Bowl and Wade was frothing at the mouth with the anticipation of hucking his skis into the newly opened slopes. He had been pent up for weeks with his broken shoulder and was ready to rock ‘n roll. I was in despair because I had forgotten to pack a surprise treat for the boys for when they reached the top of the Bowl. I demanded for Wade to leave me in his amped up state so that I could find out the  estimated arrival time of the ski classes.

Waiting at the top of the Bowl I soaked in the views surrounding me. The snowy mountains filled and enlightened my soul leaving me with a resonating peacefulness. Life was good regardless of all the obstacles. My good friend and personal trainer, Lisa Chapman, hiked up to greet me. We smiled at each other and acknowledged that we were a bunch of lucky coconuts, a quote taken from John Denver.

Launching off the top into the powdery mist we inhaled the cool air and began our descent thinking of nothing but our next turn. We knew that our children were close behind us having a similar experience and we would all soon reconvene at the bottom of the slope with rekindled souls and great stories to tell.

Life was good!