This year Wyatt is determined that we become a “skiing family.”
I grew up skiing . . . a few times a year.
But I started snowboarding in 8th grade, which made me ski even less. Then my sophomore year of high school I injured my knee, and that was it for the rest of that year. After that I never really picked it back up. It was too expensive, and too cold.
So Wyatt took me for the first time in probably 18 years over Christmas break. He was soooooooooooooooo patient. He treated me like I was 5 years old, putting my heavy ski boots on me, helping me with the gear, making sure I was warm . . . I knew he was trying extra hard to make sure I had a good experience. AND I LOVED IT! (It’s not often (like, ever) that I don’t have to be the responsible adult managing others around me at any given activity. I loved getting to be taken care of, instead of the other way round!)
And I did have a good experience. I did fall half a dozen times over the day. But nothing that hurt. And I made it down the mountain without too much ado. So I decided – yeah, I can do this ski thing I guess.
Since then we’ve been working on taking the kids to get them competent at the sport. Wyatt has taken Olivia and Calvin a few times over the years, but they’ve yet to get to the point where they can come down the mountain by themselves. This year we threw Everett into the “learning to ski” mix, and it’s required . . . a lot of consistency. Wyatt has been up one or two times almost every week, though I’ve only been able to find a babysitter and go one other time.
On Saturday though Calvin came all the way down the mountain by himself! (He may or may not have been motivated by a big tin of Pokemon cards Wyatt promised to buy him!)
Hurray for skiing!