I took a little hiatus from the vacation blog series to start making lists and planning for this summer's vacation. We are leaving soon, and I'm almost ready, so I thought I'd post about Brianhead skiing in January of 1987.
The same group of people went as went in 1986. We stayed in the same condo. Some people just didn't understand the year before that three flights of stairs with little people was absolutely miserable. This year was no exception. I remember one morning bundling my 5 year old daughter up and carrying my skis and poles and her skis and poles down all those stairs. It was a crisp, clear, sunny day. The type of day that was just made for skiing. We walked to the bunny slopes and got all of our gear on and rode the chair lift up. We skied down once and she started whining about how cold she was and how she wanted to go back to the condo. I asked her how in the world she could be cold when I was dying of heat. No amount of pleading could convince her that she wasn't cold, so we took off all of our gear, trekked back up those three flights of stairs and went back inside. Of course, it was me who was carrying EVERYTHING! She might have been carrying her own poles, but I doubt that I would have been comfortable with her trying to climb three flights of stairs and carrying poles, so at least for the sake of effect in this story, we'll say that I was carrying everything. I remember being more than a little irritated with her because by that point, I was exhausted. Later in the morning my husband came back from skiing a different part of the mountain. He asked me if I had heard how cold it was. He informed me that with the wind chill it was 10 below zero. Hmmmm.....I do remember apologizing to my daughter. If I hadn't been so hot from carrying everything, I likely would have been whining long before she was.
Does she look cold to you?
We slept in the loft again on that trip with our kids and my sister-in-law and her boyfriend. My son had brought several books along with him on the trip. One of them was 'The Goat' book. For some reason, it was his favorite at the moment. We had to read it over and over and over again. He also, at just 3 years old, was learning new words everyday. One night, in the middle of the night, he started talking. To this day we don't know if he was asleep or awake, but he was carrying on a full conversation. It started and went something like this:
Him: Mommy, daddy, where my doat book doe?
Us: What? Go back to sleep.
Him: But, where my doat book doe?
Us: Umm.....we'll find it in the morning. Go back to sleep.
He did for a few minutes. Then we woke up to this:
Him: Mommy, Daddy....diarrhea.
Us: What?! Where? (I'm pretty sure we flew out of bed at this point because diarrhea has a way of doing that.) There was no diarrhea.
The sleeping little cherubs before the sleeping-talking antics.
This is the same trip that my sister-in-law's boyfriend sat straight up in bed in the middle of the night and started calling my name out. Scared us all to death for starters. Then we teased him about why he was calling MY name. He had no idea, but it certainly led to us being teased the whole week.
On this trip our son started ski school. By the end of the week he was a little dare devil. He would start at the top of the run, make a pie and put his arms up in the air bent at the elbow, and fly down the hill. He would yell, "Yah-who!" all the way down the hill. He looked like one of those stuffed Garfield's that people used to have suction-cupped to their car windows. My husband would ski right behind him just in case he fell.
This trip's cost: Hotel in Vegas, condo, lift tickets, food and gas......$610.00
Next trip....July 1987.....Lake Havasu.
It has been brought to my attention that my daughter did not yet ski with poles.....so I was only carrying two pairs of skis and one set of poles. Wouldn't want to mislead anyone :o)