10 Things I Learned at the Beach

Things I learned on my trip to the beach with my three kids:

1. Old school is best. We have been blessed with a DVD player in our car. On previous trips, we have turned on the movie of choice before we even made it out of the driveway. This time, I decided to wait until it was requested. Guess what? They never asked for it. Shocking, really. This may stem from the fact that the kids had just finished up a week's worth of grounding which included no "screens" (television, computers, wii, psp, etc.) But I think it really was the result of letting the kids pick out a coloring book and markers of choice as well as pack hefty amounts of books. They were focused on the books the entire way. Not one squabble, not one screeching, not one issue. Clearly, old school is the way.

2. Once they have completed a "job," learned to behave in a positive way, that should be the only expectation. The kids made a 4 hour journey and the atmosphere was calm, peaceful, delightful. Though the bar has been set high, they will be expected to achieve it each and every time. It is like once your child dresses himself, he has mastered that skill. The expectation is that he will now do this every morning. And, really, if you begin to help him again, then you are not allowing him to become independent in an area that he has already mastered. Now, I know that failure is going to happen, and it will be forgiven, but this is an example of the kind of behavior that I will point to when the going gets rough.

3. It really, really bothers Ethan when Sadie disobeys me. I haven't seen this as clearly as I did this morning at breakfast. Sadie could not leave her silverware alone. First, clinking it against her glass, then beating it loudly on the table, then slightly tapping it on the table, then using them to scrape along the placemats. Each time, I asked that she stop what she was doing and then she would find a way around what I had just requested. It really bothered Ethan and he finally told her so. "Sadie, you are really being disobedient to Mommy and you need to stop." I solved the entire issue by taking her utensils until breakfast arrived.

4. Ethan is keenly aware of what I might do to embarrass him. Alert at all times. Ready to rebuff my advances of a kiss or hug. Always ready to preempt a comment he thinks I am going to make in public with a verbal warning made by him. "Mom, don't think about bringing up..."

5. My children are much more persnickety about the temperature of a body of water than either my sister or me were when we were their age. My family religiously traveled to the beach every Easter. I remember always swimming in the outdoor pool in April, no matter the weather. Purple lip-inducing water was the norm. Yet, my kids complain about the indoor pool water, remaining only in the small hot tub generally reserved for adults.

6. Sadie is my evangelist. She was expounding on the gospel in a very simple, loving way to an Indian girl in the pool. She wasn't forceful, she wasn't ugly, she wasn't condemning. She just asked some questions and then said, "You should think about Jesus. He is real and the bible is real." The girl told her she believed in something else (a king that is their god? or something like that). And Sadie said, "Ok, but think about it. " Later while we were eating breakfast, this same family came into the restaurant and were seated at a table next to us. Sadie broke out in an impromptu prayer.

Note: As the days passed by at the beach, you can tell my tone in this post changes from sweet and peaceful to slightly aggravated and irritated.

7. Hooters t-shirts on men. Ridiculous. I have never been a fan of this establishment. The premise of this restaurant is appalling and for men to tell me they, "go there for the food," begs me to ask them this question, "Do I look like a fool to you?" The particular t-shirt in question said, "Hooter Girls Love Me." Of course they do, you ding dong, they are paid to do that and their tips depend on their ability to lavish this fake attention on you! Why would you a) advertise you have been there and b) show how gullible you are?

8. No matter what system is established, arguments will always abound on who's turn it is to press the elevator buttons or open the hotel room with the room card. I am too old to remember who did it last, too old to referee and too old to care. Trust me, we had several systems to keep this straight. All failed. The only one that worked is when I didn't allow anyone to do it except me.

9. Lily has learned that if she wants to get my attention right away, she must firmly plant her lips on mine for a kiss. It doesn't matter if I am talking to a waitress, my high school friend we met on the way home from the beach, or trying to eat my own food. She will try to force my face in her direction, kiss me (even if slightly more on the cheek) and then say, "Mommy, I need you." It doesn't matter if it is an emergency or if it is just to tell me that her food is good. She has clearly lost the art of patience. And, though it seems really cute at first, after about the 50th time, it gets old. The kisses are not from the heart and she could just be hitting me in the arm to get my attention. It is just mechanical.

10. A trip with your kids is just what you need to remind you how blessed you are. Blessed to have them and blessed that they go to school for several hours each day to give you some "alone" time. Seriously, you often lose sight of how much they are growing and changing during the daily grind. It is when you take these journeys absent of breaks that you see just how quickly time is passing and how the days of these trips are numbered.

Hitting the Slopes

Skiing, in its entirety, goes against every fiber of my being. I blogged about my various fears and quick to panic moments here. Those that heard we were taking a family ski trip this past weekend must have thought about that post and wondered if I had completely lost my mind. It just screams panic for me, doesn't it? And here is why:

1. You must drive into and out of the mountains in order to actually participate in the sport.

2. You must ride a seemingly rickety and ratty chairlift to various drop-off points, high above the ground separated only by a metal bar that is completely controlled by you at any point in time.

3. You must propel yourself down a mountain with little or no control as a beginner.

4. The feeling of being out of control is like nausea, coming out of nowhere, with no warning or preparation. But, you know it is coming with each new decline.

5. You must use muscles you have not used since that one extreme yoga class you swore you would never attend again.

Despite all of this working against me, I remembered how much I love to ski. I know, it makes no sense. I actually drove up to Sugar Mountain (don't you just love that name) while Jay worked on his laptop, via his mobile phone/wireless connection and speaking to his office on my phone. What propelled me over the fear of being in control of a vehicle in the mountains is that I listened to TobyMac on Ethan's mp3 player. I was in the zone with nothing to think about, but the words to his songs. I know it is illegal to have headphones on while driving, but I believe the general population was way safer with me clued into TM than fixated on the steep drop-offs and my ability to drive straight down them.

I have never really thought too much about chairlifts. I remember several years ago Jay and I took the kids to Tweetsie Railroad. You could ride a chairlift up to the top of the mountain where there was a petting zoo and maybe a couple of other rides. We all got into one lift (I don't know how), but guess who starts freaking out? Jay. So much so that he made us all ride the school bus shuttle down the mountain rather than get back on the lift. He couldn't believe we were allowed to bring small children onto that "death trap." I hadn't really given it much thought until this weekend. Jay and I decided to leave the kids back at the condo with the sitter and head out for some night skiing. While in the dark and fog, Jay decides to recount the story which brings rise to panic for me. Finally, when we reach the top of the mountain, my legs are already a little jiggly just from thinking about the stinking chairlift's safety. Then, I had to start skiing down a more challenging slope from the top of the mountain. That was a long, long way down.

I am not an experienced skier. In fact, I took an hour lesson to brush up on what little knowledge I had gained from the last time I went skiing...15 years ago. As a beginner, you teeter between control and out of control constantly. In two days/nights of skiing, I fell. It wasn't a lot - maybe 6 times, but when I did, it wasn't pretty. Face forward falling never is. The best bit of skiing I did was at night, probably because I couldn't really see just how steep the intermediate slope was. And, try as I might, there were times when I knew my arms were flailing, my legs fighting to plow (or make a pizza wedge as they call it now) and I just wanted to let myself go...go right off the side of the mountain rather than fight against my body any more. Despite all of this, I can't wait to go back. The beginner slopes were easy and fun, almost too simple and I can see where as your skills progress the more advanced slopes will be, too.

I do understand the allure of staying in a place with a hot tub. Sunday was a little slow getting out of bed. But by Monday...whoa. Jay and I have hobbled around the house easing out little moans and groans as we traverse the stairs. I still don't get how my arms are as sore as they are...unless the flailing was much worse than I imagine. I know, flailing makes it worse, but sometimes you just can't help it.

The kids did great. Ethan and Sadie were zipping down the intermediate slopes by themselves by the end of the weekend. Sadie liked to know I was behind her. Little did she know I would not have been able to help her if she needed me, but there was comfort for her in that ignorance. I did have an interesting conversation with Sadie on the chairlift:
She said, "Mommy, are you scared about skiing?"
Me: "No, not too bad, why?"
Sadie: "Because Daddy said you were a scaredy-cat."
Me: "He did?" (thinking I have something to say to him)
Sadie: "Yes, but I told him you weren't. You are brave, you know, for a Mommy."
Me: "And, what did he say?"
Sadie: "That maybe you were only a giblet bit scared."
Me: "Well, he is probably right about that one."

Lily was not quite strong enough to make turns, but did manage to stay above her skis. She was a cute little bundled up snow bunny. Next year, she will be old enough to be in ski school. Jay and I agreed that we may finally have found something that the whole family enjoys doing together.