Plastic Strips on Your Feet + Snow = Skiing?

Things are going better around here. Yesterday, we took the boys skiing for the first time. They were both very excited to go when I told them about it Thursday, but Hutton wasn't quite as enthusiastic Thursday night after we'd been in the ski rental place in town for an hour. Finally, we had the boys' skis, boots and helmets and were ready to go for Friday morning. We got up early and headed out Friday morning, and the boys got excited when we started seeing snow and mountains.

Things got whinier once we parked and started getting the boys in their layers and helmets. We decided to rent a locker at the lodge, so we wouldn't have to walk in ski boots too far. If you've ever worn ski boots, you'll understand that these boots are definitely not meant for walking, and making children walk in them for long distances, when they have never even skied before, seems like a good way to turn them off of skiing.

We got to the lodge, Hubby stood in line for lift tickets and I went to buy some new waterproof gloves, since mine seem to have disappeared in the five years or so since I last skied. So, buying those in addition to the clothes I bought the boys, the equipment rental, and the tickets, reinforced the fact that skiing is very expensive. We then found a locker and put our walking boots in, and got into our ski boots, and clomped back outside to get our skis and hit the slopes.

We went to the slope by the "magic carpet" - the ski "lift" that is essentially a conveyor belt to bring the skiers back to the top of the slope. I use "top" and "slope" in the loosest sense of the words. Think of a 5 degree slope, and you're getting the idea of the steepness we're working on. Then, we got the boys into their skis and starting skiing.

Or not. Skiing would not really describe what we spent most of the day doing. The first few runs, Hubby and I took turns, swapping boys on each run. I "skied" with Harrison between my legs, holding him up by his jacket, while Hubby did the same with Hutton, then we swapped. After a few times of this, I was sweating and ready to lose some layers. Hubby stole some tips from the ski instructors working with the kids on the slopes, and we introduced the boys to the "french fry" and "pizza" positions. A couple more runs, and I was hot and had exhausted both my muscles and my patience. It was time for lunch.

As we sat at a table inside recharging, I told Hubby I had no patience and would never be a teacher or a ski instructor. He nodded. Then, we headed out again. I worked with Hutton a bit, and though I won't say he was a natural, he was figuring out his balance and only falling when he was going too fast and wasn't listening to my screams of, "Pizza! Pizza!" as I tried to ski in front of him to stop him. Fortunately, on a 5 degree slope, it's hard to go too fast. Then, I swapped with Hubby and sat on the side of the slope for a while with Harrison, who was tired of skiing and preferred to sit and eat snow. That was actually pretty enjoyable, as it was a beautiful sunny day, though my butt got cold after a little while, even with the four layers of pants I was wearing. I offered to take the boys for a snack while Hubby skied a real run, but he said he was tired, and didn't take the hint and offer the same for me. We swapped boys again, and Hutton and I did two more runs, while Hubby and Harrison finished one more run. Then, we finished up our day at 2:30.

Not exactly like the "old days" when Hubby and I skied together, before kids, when we'd ski all day, or all weekend, several times during the ski season. Back in those days, we'd been on ski trips to places in Utah, Colorado, California, Oregon, Montana and British Columbia, in addition to the Washington ski resorts. As I mentioned above, we hadn't skied in several years since our kids were born, so just getting outside in the snow was a start. Hopefully the boys will gain some skiing skills and like skiing as much as their parents do. The resort we went to didn't offer lessons for 3-year-olds, and I signed Hutton up for a private lesson through a special program that caters to skiers with disabilities, including autism, but they are busy and probably won't have an opening for a while. I think having a "real" instructor teach the boys will help a lot though. At least someone with some patience.

This morning, I asked Hutton how you slow down when you're skiing. He smiled and said, "Pizza!" I asked him how you go fast. Another big Hutton smile and "I go fast with the French fries!" Ahh, I love this kid!