Like Riding a Bike

Contrary to what I have been told and what seems to be the experience of others, getting back on skis certainly is not similar to getting back on a bike. Unless, of course, getting back on a bike means a couple face plants and tumbling feet over head. You may have already assumed this was my experience last week. It didn't help that while enduring the awkward - public- struggle of getting back up with a wooden plank strapped to one foot, a ten year old helped me retrieve the other ski and both lost poles. So naturally, I was about to pull a "mom" (Dixie) and began trudging up the hill with skis in hand, watery eyes, convinced that I would be parking myself in the Chateau for the day where I was warm and safe, free from humility and danger. However, along comes my 2 year old niece and brother-in-law to reassure me that I can safely spend the day snow plowing and Lissy (Yes, the 2 year old) could show me how. How can I refuse such a sweet offer? It's an auntie's role to sacrifice dignity and hot chocolate after all.
Why did my husband not teach me you ask? There is an understanding of how the Cousins teach things and Will did not disappoint. Their technique is quite simply- after saying "Oh it's easy! Just watch!" They (Will) proceeds to do it perfectly and you are left with no clue as to what is going on, but are left with eyes on you, waiting for a reciprocation. I need it broken down into steps people. Small steps.

So, after some snow plowing lessons and getting a little confidence back, we had a good day on the slopes with our friends Jay and Tess. I may have been a little sub-par, but I kept up with the rest of them either snowplowing or skiing on my butt down the black diamond. Tess tried to convince me that she was terrible, but when her goal turned to the backwards ski...there was no foolin'. I don't think I will wait 6 years before getting back on skis again.