i asked him a few days before we went if he wanted to go skiing in the mountains with tally, and he said yes. but it wasn't until we were actually walking down the icy path to the lifts that i realized he didn't know what skiing was.
up ahead of us were the massive tree-cleared slopes, and through the cloudy puffs of air from our breath as we trudged, tentatively, through slushy ice, we could see tiny black figures floating down the snow.
"look levi! there's some people skiing now!", i pointed up. there was a short, but marked, silence that i know means he's seriously pondering.
then, "mommy? are there any big boys here that could teach a little boy how to do that?"
the horsteds were with us, and we checked him & tally into the ski school. there was a balcony overlooking the marked off area they'd be working in, so i got settled in for a 3-hour show. honestly, i was very worried about him. the jury is still out on his athletic abilities.
his grandpa tells me not to worry about it, that he is like a baby horse: his arms & legs are too big for his actual size. he says he's still learning to use them with confidence. he'll get stronger. he'll be fine.
and as the years proceed, if it turns out he isn't athletic, i will be fine with that: it's one more thing we'll have in common. i only worry because i know how hard it is to WANT to be good at something, and not be. like, potentially, today.
i have to say, it was a rough start. he kept falling. it was fresh powder, and took much wriggling and arranging for him to get back up. plus, anytime he'd pick up any speed he would get nervous and sit down. i know that move by heart.
after an hour of that he got tired. and stopped trying. and then his instructor got frustrated. and it seemed, from my way-back balcony seat, that he was talking mean to him. i made michael change cameras with me because his lens would zoom farther, and i had to read the instructor's lips.
after a few more minutes of me doing my "mama bear" routine, michael told me to let him be. he gave me a long lecture about boys becoming men. after about a dozen eye-rolls and "ha-rumphs", and 'where's the manager?!' from me, he forced me to stop watching. we went inside & drank hot chocolate.
30 minutes of nervously pretending to have a conversation & sip chocolate was enough. i went back to the balcony and down below he was gone. i turned circles looking for him. scanning the slopes. 'oh no', i thought, 'they've given up' my stomach dropped, 'they made him quit.'
just then i saw his little helmet & his little smiling face...on the ski lift!! he was with his instructor. he got off the chair, turned, and skied down the mountain. hardcore snowplow all the way. but, still, skiing. a quiet smile spread on my face. it felt like we just might be ok - a boy with his mom.
later, when we were walking back to the car he said, "that was fun mom!"
"good!"
"i really like rollerskating!"
"you mean sk--"
"at first i wasn't doing very good, but then i started doing really good."
"yeah, i saw that....why do you think you started doing really good? what made the difference?"
"that's.....just the way i rollerskate", said matter-of-factly. he was asleep before we left our parking spot.
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