Monday, January 28, 2008
Things that we will learn in this class:
1. Always go to the snow after a week of rain. It will be really deep and really soft.
2. Always borrow a friend’s 4WD Suburban with DVD player for the drive up in the really deep and really soft snow.
3. Buy snow boots for the kids because if you think that wearing their tennis shoes from the car to the ski rental place is the only time that you have to keep them out of the deep, soft, wet snow…then you obviously aren’t aware of the kid/snow magnetism. (Is that a run-on sentence?)
4. Always, and I’m going to repeat this, always put your kids in ALL DAY ski lessons.
5. Always bring goggles for your kids so that you don’t have to give yours up and wear your sunglasses all day and complain about it because your face is cold, it’s too dark for sunglasses, and they keep fogging up. Be an adult.
6. Spend at least 30 minutes on the first run of the day, nay, first run in six years, helping an abandoned eight-year-old snowboarder get unstuck out of the really deep really soft snow, all the while listening to him say, between sobs: “Thank you lady, thank you.”
7. Ski on your telemark skis without actually ever doing a telemark turn because you suck at it and you haven’t been skiing in six years and you just want to have FUN!
8. Watch the kids ski down the bunny hill. Realize that your five-year-old son’s name, Canyon, does not certify him as a snow-plow expert…realize that it’s ok as long has he has fun in the really deep really soft snow.
9. Have lunch in the lodge, smile apologetically at the friend who brought her baby and is hinting that she wants to ski just one run and rush out the door.
10. Oh yeah, an integral part, leave the babies at home. (thanks Big Canyon & Hannah)
11. Ski hard all afternoon with a great ski partner, Trieste, and an occasional run with husband: thanks Dustin.
12. Don’t drink two diet cokes at lunch and expect that there might be a bathroom on the backside.
13. At the end of the day, go and ski on the bunny hill with seven-year-old daughter. Remember, DON’T TRY AND OFFER HER ANY TIPS ON SKIING. JUST LET HER GO!
14. If you are a seven-year-old girl and your name is Lily, if you accidentally “forget” to get off the lift, go ahead and jump off on the roof of the lift operator’s hut, because he will be happy to climb up there and get you and “it was just a little jump from the chair to the roof, mom, he probably wanted me to do that.”
15. If you are a five-year-old boy who is tired of skis and has just finished a hot chocolate, take your tennis shoes and your mom and find some great snow drifts and trees by the lodge and play, play, play in the snow, snow, snow for an hour without ever getting cold as your chattering mother watches and annoyingly keeps asking you if you want to go in the lodge. Duh.
16. Get in dry clothes and dry suburban and watch episodes of “Little House on the Prairie” all the way home.
17. Oh, and it’s nice to have your babies already in bed when you get there.
18. Take a shower in your million dollar shower and fall asleep to dream of snow.
If you can complete at least a third of these requirements, you will pass this class. Good luck. See you on the slopes.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Alice is still struggling with, and I’m going to have to get graphic here, poop. Yesterday, she managed to poo in her panties at IKEA. This is not the first time she’s done this…pooing in public thing. Apparently pooing in your pants in front of many strangers is a heck of a lot easier than pooing in the privacy of your own bathroom stall. I, myself, deserve a gold medal for being patient and, under the circumstances, somewhat kind. We cleaned it up and then went on with our shopping.
However, upon returning home I decided we needed a little motivation so we called Cinderella (a.k.a. Aunt Sadie).
Alice: (with some prompting) Do princesses poo in their panties?
Cinderella: Why no, I go poo in the potty.
Me: Don’t you want to be a princess and poo in the potty like Cinderella?
Alice: Hmm, maybe I’ll be Snow White.
Cinderella: (suppressing a giggle) Oh, Alice, I’m friends with Snow White and I happen to know that she poos in the potty, too.
So. Not sure if that worked. Anyone have some ideas? Cuz I’m getting tired of cleaning up poo.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Just a short blog to say: the sun is breaking through the clouds. The house is taking on a new light and it’s wonderful…sunshine…I love it. I guess it’s a good thing I live in California. We’ve had about a week or so of nonstop rain/storms/fog—I don’t think it’s necessarily over, but at least I can see a little blue. And as the RS pres in Daisy’s ward so eloquently stated: “You don’t have to shovel sunshine.” Sorry dad, get back to shoveling. Or, just come and visit.
Friday, January 4, 2008
It has recently occurred to me how different my kid’s lives are than mine was as a kid. And this mainly has to do with living in differing climes. So as we’re driving through the central valley on our way to St. George for big Canyon’s wedding—I keep pestering the kids every time we drive past orange orchards.
Me: “Lily, Canyon…look at all the orange trees.”
Them: “yeah, great mom.”
Me (ten minutes later): “Lily, Canyon…more orange trees.”
Dustin: “You keep talking about the orange trees.”
The kids: “We have one in our back yard, big deal mom.”
Oh yeah. We have an orange tree in our back yard. How do I explain to them that the first orange tree I ever saw was in Mesa, Arizona when I was about thirteen years old. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. Oranges, just growing on trees: everywhere. I guess I felt a little like Laura Ingalls when she tastes her first orange, I think that she was about fifteen. Anyway, I just sort of came to this realization that my kids aren’t interested in orange trees, they have one in their back yard. It reminds me of when Dustin and I first moved out here. We had several occasions at the beach (obviously) and it truly was amazing to me that people could go to the beach and not swim. I mean, growing up, when ever we made it to the ocean—maybe once a year on the Oregon coast, brrr—we thought it was the greatest and we swam in it for hours: oblivious to currents, creatures, and cold. Every time we went to the beach the first few years that we were married, Dustin would just stand on the beach and watch me swim. I’m sorry to say, that, lately…I’ve been content to just stand on the beach myself. Anyway, things are just different. My kids, however, are EXTREMELY excited to see snow in ANY form—and that could be the water in the tractor bucket that froze over night, or the snow brushing the top of Mt. Diablo, or frost on the roof. Looking back, snow was exciting for us for about a day…and then we probably treated it like an orange tree: “Snow, oh yeah, we have that in our back yard.”