A Trashy Post

I try to blog once a week.  It was Savanna's birthday last week and I have been too sick to compose a post worthy of her day.  So until I can recover enough to concentrate for more than 30 seconds at a time,  I thought I'd share a photo of just one of the many many snirt (snow + dirt) piles that I frequent on my way through town.  I am looking forward to eating watermelon on it's peak on the 4th of July.  Just trying to be optimistic. 

Doing Slope

I am not even sure if I knew what skiing was when I was four years old. We used to take cookie sheets from the kitchen to cruise down our backyard beginner's' run located in southern New York. I remember once struggling to stand up on the cookie sheet while sliding down. I consider this a legitimate tally of my first and only attempt at snowboarding, or more accurately labeled "snow-sheeting." A few years later we moved to Utah and my awareness of the sport of skiing increased dramatically. The main fact I quickly digested was that we couldn't afford it. What more did I need to know?

In high school, I finally mustered the financial guts to blow a good portion of my savings on a day of skiing at Sundance, the resort located 10 miles from my driveway. The larger portion of the day was spent ever so ungracefully planting my face into the snow. And while I was literally falling head over heels in deep snow, I was simultaneously falling in deep love with this skiing thing.

The money that I earned at my high school job at Burger King was tainted with so much dread and grease, that I couldn't bring myself to splurge on the alpine slopes again. I started cross-country skiing which was mountains more affordable (free, with borrowed skies...I'm forever grateful Melissa). I loved it and still love cross-country skiing when I want quiet introspective snow time or a steady workout. But it didn't quite give me the fix that I was jonesin for.

It wasn't until I was in college when I was able to purchase a student ski pass for $135 and some used skis and boots for $150 that I could really sink my teeth into the sport adequately enough to get my clumsy teeth out of the snow. I skied every free moment that I could spare, graciously accepted much needed advice from instructor friends, and only needed to be tobogganed down the mountain once.

Emmy first skied when she was 5. She had a few lessons at Red Mountain in Canada and took off without hesitation. Later that season I was able to spend a few unforgettable hours night-skiing with her. Snowflakes were drifting down and pausing on our coat sleeves long enough for us to identify the unique personality of each flake. It wasn't too cold, the moon was illuminating the skies, and Emmy was young enough that she still lacked the reservation that currently inhibits her full emotional disclosure. "This is so beautiful! I can't believe that there are so many people who don't know how beautiful this is. It is like magic." She had yet to start her speech therapy, so it was really like this, "Dis is so bootiful. I tan't believe dat deough are so many people who don't know how bootiful dis is."

It was so great to share that moment with her and have her recognize how fortunate she was to be there.

Ansel started skiing when he was 3. His first lesson would have been a huge waste of time and money if we didn't get such a kick out of watching the fruitless attempts of the tongue-pierced instructor to get Ansel to stop eating the snow and stand up. He just needed a few weeks to mature. The next time we went, we were prepared. Corey taught him, with a little help from the Lucky Bum Ski Harness Trainer and some tip connectors. I declare only a few things more adorable than a little kid learning to ski.....baby hedgehogs and mini-cheeses are among the few. I am proud of and somewhat sympathetic to the plight of the adult one-pieced suit beginners. But they are in no way, shape, or form close to being adorable.

Ansel and I went with our friends, Kathryn and Taylor, up to Mt. Spokane last Friday. We had another unforgettable adventure, despite one unfortunate chairlift maneuver. Ansel failed to disembark at the specified moment resulting in an abrupt fall when I had to pull him off before he rotated on his own back down the mountain. Luckily, it didn't take long for the excitement of the skiing to swallow the terror of the chairlift.

That night when Ansel was falling asleep, he yawned, "Mom, I had a good day."

"I had a good day too, Ansel. Thanks for coming with me" I whispered in return.

2 out of 3 of my kids love skiing and I believe that they have an awareness of this opportunity, not only to ski, but to spend quality time with a parent. I, too, have an acute sense of the nature of my good fortune in being able to spend this time with my children. I wish I could gather it, hoard it, beg for it, bottle it, seal it, and save it for those rainy teen-aged dazes when they won't want to have anything to do with me. On one of these days, I would rub the dust off a jar labeled, "quality time with my mother" and serve it to them for breakfast. It would be the sweetest thing we have ever tasted since we had the fresh stuff. Until that quickly approaching day, I will enjoy the fresh stuff while I can still get my hands on it.

And maybe I will send them outside with our cookie sheets. We have the potential for a Blue Diamond run in our back yard, with a few good jumps. They need to know what they have been missing....the "snow sheeting", that is.

Ansel and Taylor having fun in the Lodge

A week of life Lessons...A Letter from a Nutty Aunt

My sister birthed a beautiful baby girl last week.  I am aching to smell her, enclose her tiny toes within my palm, and insert my finger into her curling fist. Sadly, 750 miles is a long way to reach.  Until I can see her in person, I thought I could start fulfilling my role in her life by loading her up with all sorts of useless advice. 

 Last week was a busy week.  Not the good sort of busy when you are actually accomplishing something, rather the kind of busy where you feel as if you are running to stand still.  I am working on redefining and embracing accomplishment as something less tangible.  Unwrapping our experiences, bad or good, to discover the nuggets of life lesson is an accomplishment in itself.  

  

Corey went on a solo trip to Idaho last week and spent some 'bro' time with his brother and a good friend who previously lived in Spokane. He was also able to ski a few days at Grand Targhee. I missed him.  

LIFE LESSON #1

People in your life will be coming and going frequently.  It is best to relish and enrich the time that you have with them. Don't struggle against the sadness that you feel being away from them.   This is all part of love.

 An overachieving thief didn't just steal our mail, but our entire mailbox. Although we are uncertain if this was a nefarious attempt at identity theft or a rambunctious prank played by bored teen-agers, it still leaves us feeling a little queasy.  We have had numerous things stolen from us, some even attempted by physical force.  I haven't become numb by these experiences and I still let them temporarily puncture my high hopes for society. 

 

LIFE LESSON #2

 Those things in your life that are of most value cannot be stolen.   

 Ansel dropped a heavy weight on his foot (No, we don't allow him to play with our free weights and I don't think he will be going near them anytime soon). This resulted in an uncharacteristically long interval of crying, swelling, and an attractive eggplant purple hue to his metatarsus area. He wouldn't walk on it the first day and I carried him from room to room.  It was a nice reprieve from his newly discovered independence.  X-rays revealed no broken bones, although he is still hobbling around the house in a strangely adorable fashion.   All the pain and suffering caused by the injury didn't even come close to the amount of satisfaction it gave Ansel to visit Corey at work to discuss the results of his X-ray. 

LIFE LESSON #3

You will most certainly, in the course of your existence, have some heavy weight dropped on you more than once. Most likely,  it will be your heart that will suffer the damage. Remember that most of us are veterans of this kind of wound and we will be prepared to succor with our First Aid kits containing open arms, Kleenex, and a pan of brownies.  It is okay to ask to be carried every so often. 

I had the flu for a few days and was bit by a spider while sleeping on Saturday night.  This is my second spider bite in bed in a year.  Being sick and bitten reminds me how great it is to feel normal and unbitten.  

LIFE LESSON #4 

I'm still working on unwrapping this one.  For now, lets just say: We waste precious time being afraid of things that are harmless. Don't be afraid of spiders.  Their bites don't hurt at all.  

BEFORE

 This muted minty green color (photograph does not adequately portray the grotesque nature of this green) of our bedroom was inspired by a bridesmaid dress worn in the mid 1980's. Our builder did a fabulous job in so many ways........BUT......he forced us to commit to the colors of our house based on a 1 inch by 2 inch sample. In fact, when it was first painted, I couldn't even look at it without wanting to puke. I feel strongly about having my bedroom be a non-vomit inducing environment. It was just so NOT what I had envisioned.  We finally repainted it this week...it being my {OK, mostly Corey's} one tangible accomplishment.

AFTER

LIFE LESSON #5  

You will undoubtedly make some great and not so great decisions in your lifetime. We all do.  Don't be too hard on yourself and remember that the freedom to make simple and more complex decisions is a gift and privilege too often taken for granted.  

I have had the mid-winter blahs. It has been cold and dreary and the bits and piles of snow still remaining are dirty and crusty.  It is an exhausting battle trying to keep these blahs from lulling me into a state on non-inertia. Today was freezing, but at least the sky was blue. While preparing lunch, we looked out our window and noticed two beautiful bald eagles circling right above the treetops in our yard.   

LIFE LESSON #6

There is so much beauty in the world.  Sometimes it is right in your own back yard.  Other times you have to do a little more searching to find it.  But it is always there.  

Welcome to the world Simmone Haven!  I look forward to meeting you.