kids skiing | Good Times with Jess

Turns out my children ski like their personalities.

Maybe all of us skiers ski like our personalities and I just have no self-awareness of what that looks like for me.

Heading into our ski weekend, BB’s biggest fear was that her younger sister would surpass her in their ski school levels.

It was not an unwarranted concern since that is exactly what happened two years ago.

BUT turns out when you don’t ski for two years, a 9-year-old has much better retention than a 6-year-old.

So BB started out at a level above RB and stayed that way even when they both moved up. I’m very grateful for this. My sanity is desperate for anything that mitigates sibling rivalry.

We’re still joking (not joking), that we need two cats.

We did two days of ski school and one day skiing as a family. It far exceeded my expectations, especially after a rough start.

It began with BB being beyond anxious. Our ten day trip with seven ski days in the Alps is around the corner, so it’s not an ideal time to have a kid who doesn’t like skiing.

BB ended her day in smiles, with her instructor raving about her confidence. And to think I was just hoping she’d be willing to ski again.

By the time the third day of skiing rolled around and we headed out as a family, I couldn’t believe how happy everyone was. Usually we have no shortage of little people willing to complain about anything at any point: socks, temperature, a sister’s suspect facial expressions.

So to be in our ski gear, headed out the door, all smiles at 8am, was truly a miracle.

And too good to be true.

RB mentioned that her instructor was helping her with the chairlift. That’s all I needed to hear to grab her arm and make sure she got on the chair. Then as we approached disembarkation many many feet off the ground, the bar was raised and I put my arm in front of RB. She shoved it aside and declared,

“I can do it myself!”

We hadn’t even started our first run and I was ready to put her back in ski school.

Twelve years ago when Captain and I were dating we skied at Sunday River all the time. I knew my way around the mountain. My brain seems to have decided that that information was not worth retaining.

On our third evening, BB sat down to make a plan for our final day. She rattled off a list of runs, the order we would ski them and which one to take to get to the next one as well as which lifts we needed to be on. I stared at her in shock and said to Captain,

“Can you believe she knows all the names of the runs and how to get everywhere?”

Captain replied,

“I didn’t even see any names. Were there signs?”

Yes! There were signs! This is what happens when you ski without your readers.

He can’t see the signs and I can’t remember them, maybe we do need to ski with our children more.

Or maybe not based on RB’s behavior. BB was the agreed upon leader but then RB followed so closely she was running her over every two seconds. We tried to let RB lead, but apparently she turns only when there’s someone in front of her.

So Captain took the lead and RB did her best to run him over. I stayed as far away from her as possible and brought up the rear.

RB leaned back in an extra wide parallel stance and was out of sight in a minute. BB made careful, parallel turns. She was leaning forward, using her edges, her technique looked amazing.

This is who they are. RB couldn’t care less about rules. Turn while skiing? Not she, but she’s happy to remind BB to.

Meanwhile BB was following every single rule her instructor imparted upon her. As we spent what felt like five years getting down the mountain, I could see her working on everything she ever learned.

The way they ski is the same way they return home from school.

They ride the same bus and get off at the same stop. RB storms through the front door, goes to the bathroom, eats her snack and is playing toys by the time BB meanders in.

I am very curious about what version of RB they had in ski school. As I snuggled her in bed she said,

“My instructor got irritated with me once.”

“He did?”

“He said I was going too fast.”

“Yeah?”

“I had to go fast because it went down then up to a jump.”

“What happened?”

“I landed it and he said that it was pretty good.”

Great. Positive reinforcement for skiing like a lunatic.

RB adds,

“Why would I go slow? That would be silly.”

Very silly indeed.

Both girls had so much fun they didn’t want to leave.

It’s such a relief that we’re all excited for seven ski days in the Alps and the good news is we have six days of ski school.

When Captain and I were whisking away on ski weekends with a bag thrown over our shoulders, I day dreamed about skiing with our future children.

Somehow I forgot to daydream about the impossibly overloaded luggage carts, overstuffed car, and children capable of putting everything on themselves when asked by their ski instructors, but capable of nothing when they see me.

I didn’t know that for ski trips each child would require two stuffies in addition to their lovie, plus RB’s huge music machine that is meant to attach to a crib, which we no longer need.

As our luggage cart obstructed the lobby, I took stock of the next two luggage carts. That family wasn’t traveling light either. They had a snoo bassinet and a full-size high chair.

We don’t need a high chair, so there’s room for extra stuffies.

This does include food for the week. Plus 3 ski jackets for me.
I own them, so if not now, then when?

This was a miracle year. It is the first year we all skied together the four of us. We rode the lift together and went down fun, blue-square trails. Not quite at the speed I would choose, but getting there.

The second best part after skiing was the outdoor hot tub/pool situation.

Skiing is how Captain and I met, and sitting in the hot tub together is a little bit of heaven. I sipped my beer and gazed at our children in the pool. I said to Captain,

“Can you believe this is how it started and now look at us?”

“Not an entirely unpredictable trajectory.”

Right.

I felt the same way after giving birth to BB. It was UNBELIEVABLE, yet millions of people have been giving birth for millions of years.

We’re just one of many couples falling in love in a hot tub and returning to it with the consequences.

My joy was splashed away the minute our children took to deep-sea swimming in the hot tub. There are age rules for hot tubs, but I don’t think that’s necessary. The only rule should be:

“Do you need goggles for the hot tub?”

“Yes?”

“YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED.”

And parents aren’t allowed in ski school. When I say it was amazing to ski together the four of us, it was amazing to ski together from 2pm-3pm.

And it was amazing to ski harder and faster with Captain the rest of the time.

I have perfected getting RB on the chairlift. It only took one time with her dangling down to make sure that didn’t happen again.

This is all thanks to wonderful instruction from ski school.

As I was putting BB to bed, she snuggled up to me and said,

“I’m lucky you’re my mama.”

After I was done melting, I asked,

“I’m lucky! What made you say that?”

“You’re not a mean ski instructor.”

“You had a mean ski instructor?!!”

“NO! The ski instructors are so nice. But some kids have to go from their really nice ski instructors to their mean, ski-instructor parents. I hear them yelling at their kids. And you just say, ‘Lead the way!'”

This is one of the very good reasons we pay for ski school. I can keep the mean, ski-instructor parent dormant inside me.

Of course the minute BB saw RB skiing, she didn’t attempt to hold her tongue. BB yelled,

“Turn RB! Lean forward. You have to stay forward!”

At which point RB told me,

“My tummy hurts, I need to go potty NOW.”

RB and I zipped down the mountain faster than BB would ever want to go. RB skied straight, leaned back, took full advantage of her wedge and we made it to the bathroom. We’ve got the skills we need.

Afterwards BB told me,

“At ski school they say: ‘No pee. No ski.'”

I have a new life motto.