We went to Big Bear Mountain this weekend. Yes, there was barely any snow on the ground. Yes, it was 60 degrees. Yes, it was kind of icy, sloppy, and muddy. But you know what? It was so much fun because I got to watch my three-year-old, Landon, learn to ski.
I didn’t grow up skiing. In fact, I had never skied until my husband, Sean, forced me to go when we lived on the east coast. He grew up skiing, so it comes easy to him; he’s awesome at it, and he loves it. Let’s just say, when it comes to skiing, I am the exact opposite. On top of that, the next day after, the weekend he took me skiing, I was meeting with Reebok for the very first time (who I ended up working for seven years). I had horrible visions that I would be walking into that meeting on crutches after taking a horrific fall on the slopes, which would have probably NOT worked for the job Reebok was recruiting me for. Needless to say, my irrational fears made my first skiing experience not so fun – for both my husband and me, as I was crying and complaining like a small child being dragged onto the slopes against her will.
Let’s just say, this weekend was a completely different experience – on so many levels. For one, my fear of getting hurt on the slopes, has subsided. Yes, it would still suck – running after an eight-month-old, who is determined to walk soon, would be a little bit tricky for sure, but at least I’m not performing or teach twenty-five classes a week, like back in my NYC days. Secondly, I felt like I had to be role model for Landon. If I didn’t want to have a real child crying and complaining, I certainly could not be one. So, I wasn’t.
We were also smarter this time. Seven years ago (Yes, it was really that long ago.), Sean had tried to teach me himself. This weekend, Kenny, a quirky Big Bear ski instructor, taught me. After a two hour adventure of getting our equipment (Oh yeah, I forgot to mention or rather, recommend: In case you were thinking about it, don’t bring your baby to the ski slopes if you can help it. Strollers are not very conducive to these situations, let alone 8-month-old crawlers. LOL) As I headed off to my lesson, I hear “Mom, wait!” I turn to hear Landon say to me very a-matter-of-factly, “Mom, when you come down, you have to tell me all about it.” How’s that for some motivation?
So off I went with Kenny, for what ended up being an hour of almost having fun and definite improvement. But talk about feeling motivated, all you have to do, when you’re on those bunny hills, is look at all the little kids zooming past you – fearless and unafraid. It’s enough to keep you from giving up, and guess what? When you don’t give up, you get better! Imagine that.
Enough about me, let me brag just for a few moments about Mr. Motivator himself. Landon’s lesson was after mine, and he did not waiver for a second. He took in everything his instructor, JD, was telling him and was up in a ski lift within 15 minutes of his one hour lesson. He spent the remainder of the time making “pizzas,” down the hill, which he schooled me in later (feel free to watch IMG_7505). Let’s just say I was one proud mama.
If you haven’t yet, I highly recommend taking your kids skiing, and if you’re not a skier, no worries – you don’t have to be. You just have to try. I’m perfectly content rocking the bunny hills right now. I’ll get there – after all, I have two sons who will be motivating me to get better for years to come.