It’s been awhile since I have blogged… Why? Either I have not had anything ridiculous and laughable happen lately OR I have been too busy to take the time to write.
It’s both. I’ve had many laughable things happen AND I haven’t taken the time to write them down.
Until today.
Before I begin this tale, I need you to know that this is not the first time I have gone skiing this year (though it may seem that way after you hear my story).
This morning/afternoon, we went skiing at Pico http://www.picomountain.com/ . I woke up early to prepare for the day. Preparing means gathering skiis, boots, winter garb, and snacks for the kids and me. The snacks took the forefront of my thoughts because I didn’t want to have to purchase a $7.00 hot dog and drop it on the floor like we did last time. I am sure you understand that, right?
I filled a little backpack with a variety of treats and called our friend Norm (http://www.tfish.net/ ) to let him know that we would be heading out soon. We were planning on meeting at the ski shop at Pico Mountain. His son was going to hang out with us for the day while Norm ran some errands. (By the way, his turn will come tonight when he heads up the cub scout troop in making totem poles). My job sounds easier, doesn’t it? I believe so.
Anyway, we chatted.
Me: “I’m leaving in about 10 minutes.”
Him: “We’ll be leaving in about 15.” (They live closer).
Me: “See you up there.”
Famous last words.
We got in the van with all of our stuff and began the journey. The kids were fighting as I had the typical thoughts about the stove and whether or not I had turned it off… the door and whether or not I shut it tightly. The wood stove and whether or not I shut the chimney flew. Other people have thoughts like this, right? Am I neurotic?
I had made a thermos of hot chocolate right before we left. As I drove along, I thought about all the fun we were to have at the slope and how nice it would be to return to the van later in the day to have a warm cup of cocoa. Did I shut off the stove? I thought about the wonderful bunny slope and how it is just the right size for me to take three boys on my own because no matter where they are, I can see them at all times. I thought about how nice it is to live in Vermont and be able to get free passes because the kids are local school children who get good grades.
Free passes. Ooops.
Note to self. Next time you leave to go skiing, please try to remember the ski passes.
Around we go. We pulled into the Forest Service parking lot to turn around and head home. Round and round. Back to our house. Up into the mud room. Grab the ski passes. Call Norm’s wife Barb.
Me: “I forgot the passes and needed to come back. Can you call Norm and tell him we’re late?”
Barb: “I’ll call but he usually doesn’t turn on his cell phone.”
Me: "Okay... I'll just apologize when we get there."Back out to the van. Hand the kids their passes. “Put these on!” Kids still fighting. Understandable. They really want to be on the slopes. But now we’re on our way. I drove about a mile before I thought to myself, “Did I check the stove?” Of course I shut it off. I always do. It is one of those automatic things I do without thinking about it. Right? Well, I am not turning around to check. This is ridiculous. I am being neurotic.
There was good music from my youth on the radio (80's) so the time passed pretty quickly. We got to the rental shop and met Norm and his son Chase there. They had obviously been waiting awhile so I apologized and got in line to rent equipment. I only needed skiis for my younger son because he has a wonderful pair of boots that Norm's family passed down to us. My older son had boots and skiis so I didn’t need anything for him. This should go quickly.
I got out of line to grab Norm and ask him to put boots on all the boys TO SAVE TIME. (ha ha)… I got back in line and waited behind every person from Massachusetts who had the same idea of what to do on a Thursday. Finally, my turn. Okay… skiis for one 6 year old.
Me: “He has an academic pass. I can get the skiis for a cheaper rental rate, right?”
Her: “Yes. Do you have his pass?”
Me: “Uh…”
Upon getting the passes after driving back for them, you remember, I gave them to the boys. How handy. The passes were across the way in the lodge with the boys who were putting on their boots.
Clump clump clump… although it was about 30 degrees out I was already shedding layers. Leaving my gloves and coat in the care of Norm, I grabbed the ski pass and one of my son's boots (to size the skiis).
Waited in line again behind everyone from Connecticut who had the same idea of what to do on a Thursday.
“Okay. Here is his pass.” (same lady…)
After paying the discounted rental rate I moved along to the next building to get my younger son some skiis. I had to fill out paperwork: weight, height, street shoe size, address, phone number etc. Okay. Wait in line behind everybody from Rhode Island who had the same idea of what to do on a Thursday. Okay.
Funny-Hat-Kid who works at Pico: "How tall is he?"
Me: “How tall is he?” I held out my hand as if to pat my son's imaginary head. “This tall.”
“Uh…” The young man with the Killington ski jacket and unusual hat stared at me blankly. “About three feet?”
“Sure.” I smiled. “I like your hat.”
He gave me a polite smile and went to find skiis. He brought back two different pairs for me to pick the more appropriate size. Done.
Well… actually not… quite yet.... Norm showed up with all three boys. My younger son was hobbling along wearing one regular boot and one ski boot. My older son was unfortunately still wearing his regular boots.
Norm: “Uh… Donovan’s ski boots don’t fit.”
Me: “What?”
Norm: (of course repeated what he said above AND added “I don’t know why. Maybe you can help.”
Me: “They fit three days ago!” (upon hind sight, it was five days ago but nonetheless…)
Norm: “They did?” He smiled –probably wishing he had a mallet to knock me up-side the head-
Me: “YES!” I shouted.
Now you need more information… here is the background of my older son’s skiis. I just bought them last Saturday… or should I say RE-bought them. They had been his last year and in the summer when I was not thinking about snow, I donated them to our town's church for their Thrift Shop. I figured he wouldn’t fit them by wintertime, so I de-cluttered and un-complicated my life by getting rid of them. Well, at least I thought that was what I did. I may have de-cluttered, but I made my life more complicated actually. Read on to see just how untrue that really is.
Last Saturday, we were at the church's Thrift Shop and I
for five days. Now I am sort of ashamed.
Back to the ski slope. We moved across the way to the lodge again to fit boots on my boy.
I gave it my best shot! I acted like prince charming and tried to shove that boot onto his foot as if it were a glass slipper. But… alas to no avail. Norm was right. In less than a week, my son had outgrown his boots and I couldn’t make them fit. Even barefoot. Yes, I tried that too.
Okay… I grabbed both passes to go get boots for my older son. I walked away…
Norm: “Are they adjustable?”
Me: “What? These passes?”
Norm: “Are the skiis adjustable?” (again wishing for mallet)
Oh… right. If the boots I get are bigger, I needed bigger bindings, didn’t I?
Okay… so boot and skiis for my older son coming right up.
Sort of. I had to stop at the bathroom. Too much water this morning.
Of course there was a line because tons of people hydrated as well.
Back at the ski rental area, there was a line again behind everyone from New Hampshire who had the same idea of what to do on a Thursday. Although it was practically Friday at this point… good God.
Okay… so I paid the discounted rate for a child of Vermont with the academic pass and ran (clump clump clump) to the lodge to get my son to come with me to the rental shop to get the boots AND skiis. I filled out the form height, weight, street shoe size, address, phone number. Waited in line… someone from another state cut in front of me (Flatlander accent)… and I finally got equipment with/for my older son.
Back to the lodge… clump, clump, clump…
On with his boots. On with MY boots… to the bathroom… again…
Now… were we ready to go and ski with these anxious boys.?
Not quite.
“Mom… where are my gloves?”
Me: “What?” (I heard him… but I didn’t like what I heard. )
Him: “My gloves.”
Me: “Okay. We were in the rental shop. Did you leave them there?”
I didn’t mention it earlier, but my other son lost a pair of sunglasses at some point, too. Oh well… he takes after his dad. He has owned 500 pairs of sunglasses - not exaggerating... (akthough I am the one who has forgotten everything today)...
Him: “Sorry mom.”
Me: “It’s okay. It happens.” (silent cursing…)
Norm checked the boy’s bathroom in case they were in there. Nope.
We all clumped back to the rental shop.
Nope!
Well, for some reason (I wonder why) I have extra mittens and gloves in the van. Later, Norm was to be taking his son’s car seat to our van. If need be, he could get the mittens then and bring them back to me on the slopes with the keys before he left to run errands.
Do you get why I call this blog AROUND AND AROUND? Are you dizzy yet?
We went back to the lodge to check one last time for gloves and found them on the fireplace hearth behind a man who was sitting there.
AHA…
So finally we were on our way to the slopes. Hooray! The boys carried skiis for a stretch until we were close to the lift and then they dropped them to the snow to put them on.
Did you notice I said the boys had their skiis?
Where were mine?
OMG! I left mine outside the lodge! (more silent cursing!!!)
Clump, clump, clump…
Tired yet? I was. I had not even got onto the slopes and I already felt like I had been going around and around for hours. And this was my vacation!
We finally started to ski. And it was fun. Around and around we went. Onto the lift. Down the slope. Onto the life. Down the slope. Around and around and around. They were smiling. They had a great time.
You ask, "Was it worth it?"
Absolutely.
It was great.
Didn't you have fun reading about it?
