Ski Trip (by popular demand)

Once a year, my in-laws bless all of us by taking us skiiing. And when I say ALL of us I mean there are 12 of us who go. Two grandparents, four parents, and six children. Kids all range in age from 14 to 3. The first day, we ski. The second day, snowmobile tour and then drive home.

The skiing is really pretty uneventful. I don't ski well, so I'm on ski patrol at the bunny slopes. I chase the little guys in other words. Last year my son (who was 5 at the time) rode the lift and skiied all day. After several mistrials (and a stream of profanity worthy of an Osbourne) I figured out it is a lot easier (and less painful) to NOT help the kids off the lift. It actually works better for me to get off and let them get off on their own and fend for themselves. My daughter does beautifully and soon became frustrated with me. Small problem with the 5 year old son-he can't stop and he can't turn. Skis like a demon though. So, I would just pick myself up off my ass-point him downhill and turn him loose. Dad would stand at the bottom so at least he doesn't careen into a stranger.
So this year, the now 6 year old skiied the intermediate slope ALL day. I mean, he was fast as hell (apparently sticking out one's tongue not only increases speed, but improves balance). He skiied with Uncle Mitch who was the hero for the day. My son stopped and turned as if he'd done it his whole life.
Ah, but that leaves me with the now 3 year old son on the bunny slope. We took a lesson. Ro learned to stop. Learned if he was going to fall, just sit down. Learned to keep his head up, but his knees bent. Rode the ski lift all day. After several turns with the instructor, he rode with me on the lift. He's pretty small still, so I would grab the back of his jacket (like a cat picking up kittens) and literally lift him off the lift-and point him downhill. While he possesses the ability to stop, he often chooses not to. I mean, what am I going to do? Fall down next to him and ground him? Spank him while re-attaching the ski I lost trying to turn? He had free reign and everyone knew it. Most people try to get out of his way, but some aren't so fortunate. Like the really nice 50 something grandma taking pictures of a very pink, fluffy, little red-faced skier. Poor woman never saw the 30 pounds of Oh Shit coming at her. My son managed to take out both her feet and send a really expensive looking camera straight to the ground. She was nice. She understood she said. Grandson about the same age. As I apologized, both skiis swooped out from underneath me. The look on her face said, "oh he must get it from his mother".

We always manage to make it back to the condo alive and eat perhaps the best meal EVER prepared by my mother in law. Don't kid yourself-she's a wonderful cook, but she could be serving cat litter on a flip flop and we'd devour it. Those of us past the age of 30 who fall a lot (okay, that really just means me. everyone else skis great), limp our poor aching bodies to our bed and thank God we lived and that it's over.

Snowmobile tours are meant to be taken slowly in order to enjoy the stunning beauty of the Rocky Mountains. But, when there are 12 people on 7 snowmobiles, we're gonna tear some shit up. I'm sorry, it is what it is. So, last year, my husband and my daughter rode together. My husband decided to pass no less than four of us on the right only to disappear in a gigantic white POOF. "Please stay on the trail at all times" I seemed to remember someone saying somewhere.... The trails are packed down and a little bumpy. Apparently, just half the width of a rented snowmobile to the right and there's 8 feet of powder snow. When I saw my husband and daughter disappear in the snow cloud my stomach clenched up. And then this little pink helmet appeared in the snow like a poptart coming out of a toaster. She was crying. No-wait. She was laughing. She was laughing so hard she was crying. My husband wasn't quite as amused as now his big ass had to figure out how to UNbury a snowmobile. It took him, his dad, and his brother a LONG time to get it out. It sounded like a bunch of fat guys trying to move a fridge. The tour guide wanted to scold him, but what do you say to guy who's 6'1" and 250 pounds? "Be more careful" was about all he could muster.
So this year my daughter decides to ride with me as there's less chance of a crash this way. Midway through the tour you reach a flat meadow. This is where you're allowed to cut loose and go really fast. But you gotta turn. Which is what I was trying to do when I found myself buried under a snowmobile wondering what the frig just happened? Apparently one should slow down BEFORE turning even if there's a small possibility of beating your husband and son to some imaginary finish line....