Winter!

Back in early December, before the boys and I found out that this winter would shape up to be the wimpiest in all of our lifetimes, we decided that we would give Jon a day of downhill skiing for Christmas.  But then the snow never arrived, and even though we knew that downhill areas were making their own, it kept falling off our radar.  But then a quiet 4 day weekend rolled into town, and after relaxing through Friday we made last minute plans to make a run to Duluth on Saturday for a 24 hour getaway. 
We planned to try xc skiing at Snowflake just north of Duluth Saturday afternoon and as we drove onto their land we were sure that their website that proclaimed "great skiing!" was perhaps updated last in 2011.  Brown everywhere.  Except for the 4 foot wide trail through the woods.  Would never have guessed that I would agree with their web proclamation.  It was great, even once you factored in the bump up in rating for just being out on skis this dumb old winter.  The sun was out, the jackets came off, and we cruised through a rolling 5k in that golden glow that happens just before sunset on a winter afternoon. 
After skiing we repaired to our favorite Duluth lodging- the home of the Oachs that is perched right up for the great lake.  We had a lovely evening of food, conversation, and games with these lovely Duluthians.  The next day promised a great forecast for downhill- temps in the 30's, lots of sun, and most importantly for a ski hill that faces Lake Superior- no wind.  Theo went to bed a little unsure of his commitment level and was looking for alternatives.  Something must have been worked out in his dreams, because he woke up ready for the challenge.
After gearing up and forking over a whole lot of cash the four of us headed out to the bunny hill.  After a couple trips down I admit I was dreading the day, thinking that it would be the longest day of my entire life.  Theo was not at all interested in learning any of the subtleties of control.  Once he got up the nerve to point his skis downhill he was off, without an attempt to turn or slow.  Somehow everyone else on the hill avoided him for several turns, but I knew that luck could not hold.  Eli is a heck of a snowplower, so control is not his issue.  His problem is falling.  Or rather, getting back up once he falls.  He flailed around in the snow at my feet, frustrated with his skis, the hill, himself, and me, the evil mom who would not lend a hand.  This was one of those sink or swim moments I felt.  He had to figure out how to get up.  I'm sure I was judged by other parents around me as they watched me watch my son suffer.  Eventually I did have to give in and offer a pole for him to use for support.  He hauled himself up and got back on the treadmill thingy, casting dirty looks at me over his shoulder.  I caught Jon's eye and mouthed "merry christmas". 
But then we decided to ditch the bunny hill and try our luck elsewhere.  The hills at Spirit mountain are long for Minnesota standards.  The green we chose was not overly steep, but given the length I figured Theo could get up to some body-damaging speeds if he kept up with his no turn/no plow/no stop ways.  I pointed to a ridge partway down and said, "It is imperative that you stop at that spot.  Fall down if nothing else."  He nodded, knees shaking, real fear in his eyes.  Eli took off in his snow plow and made slow progress toward the designated spot.  Theo tried to follow but chickened out.  Girded his loins and tried again.  Nope.  Couldn't get himself to turn his skis downhill.  We coaxed and prodded and eventually he started traversing the hill sideways.  This was going to take awhile.  So I skied over to Eli and knocked him over.  Figured he would have plenty of time to get back up. I'm not as evil as I sound- I knocked him over on a steep-ish slope and I knew he'd be able to get on his feet with the help of the slope.  And he did.  Was kind of proud.  So I pushed him down again.  And again.  I like to think he appreciated it.  By the time he popped up for the fourth time Theo was approaching at this snail's pace.  I didn't mind the snail action- he was helmet-less and  I really really like his head so this pace was working for me better than the bunnyhill bombing.
By the time we got down to the bottom of the second hill both boys had cracked the code of skiing in their own way.  Eli's snowplow was just a touch looser, he was still 105% in control, but had found a way to get a bit of speed.  Theo somehow figured out how to carve back and forth across the slopes like a real skier.  His grin was huge and he was starting to keep an eye out for 'jumps'.  He felt like he was getting some air, and the upper part of his body was, so we found no reason to tell him that his skis were really not leaving the ground.  I'm always ok with perceived danger stepping in for real danger when it comes to my little risk-taker. 
In the end we had to force Theo off the hill hours after we had first intended to leave.  He would have shut down the place if we had let him.  All four of us ended up enjoying Jon's gift a great deal.  The pleasure of watching your boys grow in confidence and power and skill while also basking in some sweet late winter sunshine is a gift indeed.