I don’t know what I imagined when I signed the guys up for ski lessons. I think a little bit of me thought they’d be whisked up the chair-lift and zooming down the mountains in no time and I really wanted them to learn to ski. But the reality is that it takes a little more time to learn how to ski. You spend some time watching this.
But there is also a lot of falling down and getting up. And flailing on the ground. Then the whole terrifying process repeats itself and you wonder if this is joy or torture that you’re inflicting on your children.
I was a little anxious about this until something caught my attention.
And then I was too excited to worry anymore. I found myself my own bird.
And instantly became a Disney Princess. (Snow White is my fairy tale alter-ego if you’re curious.) I even thought the hubby might like to be a princess too.
And miraculously the hour and a half lesson zoomed by and my smiling, not-tortured children didn’t want to leave the mountain. They instead begged for more skiing, more skiing please, MORE MORE MORE! So as long as there are birds, hand-warmers, hot chocolate and poutine, I don’t think I’ll mind. This skiing thing isn’t terribly awful after all. (And wait until you hear about the magic carpet ride. I swear this mountain is sponsored by Disney!)
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