This wouldda been me back in the Pleistocene…

hulaskigalThe gal in the grass skirt and lei, that is. I just may blahg about skiing all week. You can go away if you want to. But you never know what I’ll do. I do have skiing on the brain again tonight. We went to the Ski Ranch again today. Fortunately, we got out early enough that I got to do a whole bunch of skiing without seeing more than maybe three people plus Groomer Bob or whoever the heck it was on the snow-mo thingy. And then I got to my fave Rolling Hills loop and there were about a billion kids skiing The Wrong Way! A race. I asked if I could ski on Rolling Hills anyway and was told it was okay but it sure was interesting mixing it up with the young racers.

I kind of miss skiing with kids. Little kids, that is, not big teenaged kids who leave me behind in the dust with great glee. Yesterday I stopped off at the warming shack to re-wax and because all the Houghton Lake man-splainers were there. A family with young children was also there and I said (to the man-splainers) something at some point about how the last time I skied with Mouse, she left me in the dust. I got back on the trail and this young girl, maybe about nine, who had been at the Trapper’s Cabin, came up behind me *fast* and I had to get out of her way! She said, “I’m leaving my mom in the dust.” Yes, she was.

Skiing with children… You’re are skiing with your 3-year-old on skis and your 8-month-old asleep in a backpack and you know your husband is coming along to meet you and take the kids back to the ranch so you can get a good fast ski in *alone*. You send your 3-year-old off to meet up with her dad who is not quite in sight yet but you know he is just around a bend and while your baby is skiing toward him, you hear some *concerned* people ask her if she is alone! And then you hear your 3-year-old very clearly and confidently answer, “No. I am with my mommy and my daddy.” And then both of us parents come together and I hand off the kids to the GG. He takes them in for hot chocolate and stuff and I ski!

Your 2-year-old has an uber-cute set of red rental skis and boots and she has been gung-ho about skiing all weekend. Until Sunday afternoon. She’s done! She has been speaking in complete sentences since forever but somehow she can’t tell you that she really doesn’t want to ski *again*. She’s only *two*, fer kee-reist. You don’t understand. Everybody *always* wants to ski, roight? You say something about maybe we’ll just do the “Little-kid Loop!”. Oh, bad choice of words. A meltdown ensues. You pick up your 2-year-old, skis and all and walk into the ski ranch and with more laughter than tears, you tell Bob, “I think we’re done with skiing for the year.” It is late in the season and he has his own little kids and he understands.

And then, you are slodging along in the back reaches of the Manitou Trail with your 4-year-old. There are some long, flat sections on that trail and your kid is bored and you are both trying not to ask, “When are we gonna get there.” Little kids don’t really need ski poles and so you are carrying your kid’s ski poles plus your own in your right hand and holding hands with her with your left. There is silence for a long time and then your kid says: “Mom, I am thinking about volcanoes too much.”

I miss skiing with little kids or maybe I just miss skiing with my own little kids. I was really happy to be skiing alone this weekend. We had a wonderfully dry drive down today. We took the Lansing route for the first time in a while so we could drop off The Beautiful Chelsea at her apartment in East Lansing. Nice dry roads all the way. Thank you god or whoever. Because I am so blasted sick of black ice…

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