jessteronimo

Pizza and French Fries

I finally did it: I took my girls skiing! (See the cell phone pic to the left.) They did so incredibly well that I was the proudest momma on the slopes that day!

We stayed the night at my sister Kristen's house so that we could all get up early the next morning and head to the mountains. The girls were almost too excited to sleep, of course. We rented their skis and then headed for the slopes at Solitude Ski Resort all bundled up so we wouldn't get cold. I bought those little toe and hand warmers--lifesavers!--for each of us girls because 1) I've been told it's important to keep kids warm during skiing or they're miserable (understandable) and 2) we're all temperature wimps, naturally. The snow was exquisite! (We've had 500 inches of snowfall in our mountains this year!) To begin, I reminded the girls of how to shape their skis: pizza to go slow, french fries to go fast.

My eldest daughter had quite a lot of trouble with getting off the lift the first couple of times we went. We adults were trying to help her, but our "helping" was just tying her in knots. Finally, I pulled her aside and said, "Honey, you know how to do this. You know how to balance your body. Just stop listening to us stupid, bossy adults, and do it!" And then we backed off. Sure enough, she executed perfectly on the next run. In that one move, she regained her confidence and didn't fall again getting off the lift the rest of the day.

My younger daughter was a daredevil extraordinaire, turning and maneuvering as well as anyone else on the hill. But she got cold and hungry around noon and started begging to go home. I was pretty disappointed because I wanted so much for them to have fun, and I didn't want to cut the adventure short (especially since it was hello expensive!). Well, I remembered the powers of hot chocolate in the lodge by the fire. So I took both girls in, plopped them down, and force-fed the warm liquid to them until they had relaxed and started laughing and joking again. Soon they were begging to go back to the lift--but I made them eat lunch first, like the good Mom I am.

We were soon off to the slopes again, my sister, our ski-pro friend, and I racing to catch up with the speedy little demons flying down the hill so fast. We had two little mishaps during the day, which is to be expected. First, my youngest dropped her ski pole off the lift. Luckily, it wasn't too hard for me to kick off my skis and wade into the waist-deep snow to fish it out. The second was that the kids were doing so well on the bunny hill that we took a chance and took them on the next higher lift. Um, mistake. They both got scared and completely froze. They wouldn't move at all, even with little 3-year-olds whooshing by them effortlessly. We even had our friend try skiing backwards with them to help them move. No dice. Finally, we pulled their skis off and, laughing the whole way, they slid on their butts to a more even spot. Then they slipped their skis back on and took a trail that cut back over to their beloved bunny hill, where they happily spent the rest of the day racing the adults.

Of course, they didn't want to go home when we packed up, but we promised them it wouldn't be their last ski trip. Now we have to get their cousins and their Aunt Karianne and Aunt Jeanna skiing too! I foresee a lot of skiing in our future! ;)

Climbing Fool

The snow was threatening to blizzard in along the benches in Salt Lake City as my sister and I met at an REI store. Right as we walked in, we were greeted by a good-sized indoor climbing wall that went all the way to the ceiling. No one was on the wall yet, but there were a lot of people waiting around. We went to the back of the store to rent climbing shoes. By the time we returned to the wall, it was crawling with people. A young guy who looked like a cuter Jake Gyllenhaal greeted us. He had us sign some forms saying we wouldn't sue REI if anything happened to us, and then he began fitting us with our climbing harnesses. I was a small! Yeah! Then Robb (aka Jake) taught us how to tie the correct knot in the climbing rope, looping it through the climbing harness and securing it so it could hold our weight without slipping. I got to climb first. "On belay," I said bravely. "Climb on," Robb replied and braced himself. Without a pause, I began scaling the wall. I was up at the top before I knew it, ringing the victory bell that was tied there. To begin the descent, I leaned back (sat) in the harness and bounced off the wall with my feet as Robb lowered me to the ground again. Simple. Of course, that was the easiest climb. Then my sister made the climb just as easily. We continued in that pattern for the next three climbs, going up to the next harder level with each ascent. But the fourth climb kicked our butts. It was a crack climb with a bit of an overhang. It didn't look that difficult from the ground, and Robb was giving us hints and guidance the whole way. But we each tried it three times and failed each time. The rocks were slippery from sweat, there were no really good hand or toe holds, and our arms and legs were too tired to summon the extra strength it took to push past the jagged crack and reach the top of the overhang. Finally, we called uncle. The scrappy, obviously experienced kid who followed us had a little trouble too, although he made it, feeding our determination. Mark my words, we will return another day to conquer that climb. Hopefully Robb will be there to cheer us on.