I was not made for some things...

Diets.

Pest Control.

Swimming, and breathing at the same time.

Cartwheels.

and

Skiing.

Yes, that's right I have come to the conclusion that skiing is not for me.  And I didn't even have to do it to figure it out.  I just had to BE on the mountain. 

I took my kids and my niece up the mountain today because THEY want to ski and Jesse was patrolling the kid's hill.

I knew right away I didn't belong.  Do you realize it's a fashion show up there?  I had two different colored gloves on.  One was black and one was pink.   EVERYONE is in their little matchy matchy outfits and I.....was not.  I don't have a matchy matchy outfit.  Far as I could tell, those trees didn't give a sap about my outfit, and the 200 14 year olds?  I didn't care what they thought.

Next thing I noticed....it was freakin freezing!  My car (which I sat in) said it was 16 degrees...and that's not including the wind or the heavy fog which frosted everything in sight.  People's faces were frosted over.  It was like a bunch of DEAD kids walking around in matchy outfits!  Now, I don't like to be so cold that my skin frosts over.  One time, I wiped my nose, but I couldn't even feel it.  And that was after I went and found a tissue.  I should have used the pink glove.  What?  I'm a mother it's not like I haven't been covered in snot for going on 10 years now.

And then the thing that truly convinces me that skiing is NOT for me.  The chairlift.  That thing is 60 feet off the ground if it's an inch!  And there are no safety bars!!!  You could fall right out of them!  You know when you approach the pole on one of those things and it makes you bounce boingity-boingity-boingity?  You could boingity right off the edge of that seat!  And I am intensely afraid of heights.  Riding the chairlift is more frightening than plumeting, uncontrolled, 60 miles an hour, down a MOUNTAIN with nothing in between me and the rock hard snow but the frost on my face!

I stood there in the lodge and thought with absolute certainty, that Big Mama was not made for the slopes.  And it's a bit of a shame considering I live nestled in a valley of gorgeous mountains.

My children, however, might be.

Well, Halle is persistent and she doesn't mind practicing.  So that mighty combination will someday make her a decent skier.  Tonight was her very first time.  She mostly yelled to me as she slid backwards down the hill.  She also had a hard time getting back up once she fell.   From my vantage point in the parking lot I could see her try and try to get back on her feet.  After several minutes she would collapse wearily in the snow and wait for Jesse to come and pull her to her feet.  What's more is the look on her frosted face as she came down a tiny slope off to the side.  Sheer terror.  The same face I make when I ski.  Or when someone throws a ball to me.  You know, squinty eyes, puckered up face, with muscles twitching.  My brother still openly mocks me to this day.  What can I say?  I am not athletic ONE bit, and Halle?  She's her Mama's girl.

But Jack.  He's a whole different story.  He's afraid to talk to his Grandma, but he's a bit of an adrenaline junky.  His smile these days resembles a train wreck and you can see it coming down the slope from a mile away.  He grins like a maniac on roller coasters, fast water slides, steep sledding hills, AND it turns out, ski slopes.  He's a natural.  And even better?  He can get back up when he falls down! 

Jesse, to my horror, took Jack up the lift.  And they skied down together.  I was in awe of him.  He did an amazing job. 

Finally I told all the kids I would buy them hot chocolate and hot dogs at the Maverick on the way home if we could just LEAVE that forsaken place.  I had to soak in a scorching hot bathtub for nearly an hour before I could feel all my parts again.

I bid it farewell in my rear view mirror, and I'm never looking back.

PS...in case you are wondering, Big Mama doesn't ride the chair lift thing at Lagoon either.  Do you know if you ride that death contraption, you DANGLE 30 feet above pavement, and fountains?  It also does that boingity thing and it makes sudden stops that leave you swinging back and forth on that little bench.  No warning given.  You could swing right out of that!  And do you know what's holding your bench up there?  A rope.  No thank you.  You can find me firmly planted on the GROUND....near the corndog stand.  Have you ever had a Lagoon corndog?  Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!