The First Time James and Claire Went Skiing

My dad called me on Tuesday, “Hey Molly, I want to take James and Claire skiing on Friday at Mount Crescent.”

I thought about it for a second (he’s practically been asking since James was in utero), and told him I would think about it, and I would get back to him.

I looked at my calendar for Friday, called him back and said, “I’m coming with!”

I left my academic medicine job to have a bit more flexibility with my schedule, and so I could be around for moments like these.

So, after we found all of our thermal wear, hats, gloves, snow pants, packed the fruit snacks, blueberries, Fritos, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Minnie mouse, water bottles, and James’ latest favorite book we were on our way.

We stopped 10 minutes in to pull the car over because while I was taking care of everyone else I could not remember if I packed my own coat for this adventure. I did. No worries.

So, we get there at 10:40 am. This is 100% my dad’s style. We always get to where we are going early. If you are on time, you are late. 

I ask, “Why isn’t the ski lift going?” Oh yes, we are 20 minutes early. Got it.”

Anyways, as a prepared daughter I had already printed off our lift ticket confirmation, and signed the waivers for the children(because you know we don’t have time to waste once the chairlift starts going)!

So, we get in. All is going well. James gets his boots, gets fitted for his skis, and he is pumped up about this. Meanwhile, Claire has tried on four different boots, in absolute tears, and would like nothing to do with skiing (I’m sure someone reading this can identify).

I think to myself, “no big deal, we can just take turns, and she can hang out below.”

Wouldn’t you know it...the moment she saw James doing a few practice runs, she wants to do it! Great! Mommy already paid for your day, so let’s get to it!

Go back inside. The line inside has tripled (there is benefit apparently in getting there 20 minutes early). Try to explain to a three year old we have to wait for our turn. She’s getting exasperated. We finally get to the front of the line. Princess Claire does not prefer the color of boot being offered. The boot girl (for lack of a better word) becomes a magician and whips out a red pair! Yes, a red pair, is a pair Claire can get behind.

Oh, but now we must wait to get fitted for our skis! Another 30-45 minutes…

Sorry, this is getting long (but this was the experience). My dad takes James up and down a run, and Claire and I are still in line. Claire spots James having a snack by the firepit, and desperately wants to go, but only has one boot on because the other one is getting fitted. No melt down, but getting there.

Finally, everyone has their skis and boots! My dad says, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to take them up.” Um, what? Excuse me? Are you even my dad right now? (I feel like it’s important for you to know in this part of the story that this would not have been an option growing up).

Anyways, we press on. He tells me to try going with James. I get James all ready to go, get him up by the chairlift, turn back around to yell, “Hey Dad, how do I get him off the chairlift?” 

Never worry. I just scooped him up, and held him as I skied off the lift. Basically ended up skiing with him between my legs, and me holding onto him in some sort of over-the-top-hug-his-arms-wrapped-around-mine. I don’t know. It worked. 

And, they had a ball. It was so fun. I mean it was fun once the two hours of getting ready had passed. 

Claire loved it. Papa carried her to the chairlift, carried her off, and she got to ski between his legs. Cutest thing ever.

Ah yes, the last run. Everything was going great! Everyone decided one last run! Get to the bottom, and Princess Claire has had enough, and missed her nap time. Loses it. Lots of tears. Lots of snot. Just overall a lot of everything from that one.

Get to the car. Guess who has to go potty? Princess Claire. Carry her all the way back in, so she can go potty, get her back to the car where they promptly pass out in the back seat within the first five minutes.

I will never forget this day, nor will I forget the biggest smile on my dad's face when we finally got everybody up and running.

I tried to just soak every moment in. They say they don’t last. And, they say we take pictures to remember. So, here’s to remembering.