Meet my "motorcycle"

Back in November, a friend of mine asked me if I skied. I had difficulty answering. Did I ski? Technically, no. Not in eleven years. Once when Noah was about six months old my mom watched him while Jason and I went skiing. It seemed like a whole lot of planning, worry and aching boobs in need of being nursed for us to enjoy it. We never went back. Two more babies, and forget it. A decade goes by.

Can I ski? Yes. I liked to think I was pretty good in my day. When I was in seventh grade I joined the ski club in middle school where once a week I climbed on a bus to a a mountain about an hour away, took a lesson and skied with my friends. It wasn't easy learning, but thanks to a very patient friend who skied with me every week and taught me to have confidence, I became a "skier". I did ski club at school for six years and continued skiing through college when I could.

Why was my friend asking? She had just gotten new skis and was determined to use them. Regularly. There are a few mountains within an hour from here and she convinced me we could get in a good day of skiing before beating the school bus home. I was game. Jason and I talked about it and decided that rental fees for the handful of outings would still be less than buying, so I would rent. I did, however, cave and buy a helmet as the thought of lice ruining a perfectly good skiing day turned my stomach.

One Sunday in January, Jason and I decided to take the kids skiing for the first time to see how they liked it. Despite the temperature being below 10 degrees, all three of them did awesome and have been asking to go back. Jason and I had a little over an hour to ski by ourselves while the kids were in lessons and once we got the cobwebs out of our knees it all came back to us. The rest of the day was on the bunny hill with the kids though.

A few days later Ski Buddy (SB) and I packed up early, both dads agreeing to get the kids on the bus, and headed to the slopes. After our first run, I was nearly giddy at how much fun it was, and how wrong it felt. The kids in school, Jason at work, and I was having an absolute ball flying down the mountain. Too luxurious. I felt like I was cheating on my husband.

By the following week, SB and I were more comfortable with each other's skill levels, took more chances and had a ball. This was not going to be a one time thing. I was itching to get equipment. This was my "motorcycle", a selfish luxury that was all about me and made me happy.

SB and I skied at least 5 or 6 times this year. Each time a great day. We'd sit on the chair, analyze our runs, how well we did, laugh over almost wiping out. We'd sometimes sit in the lodge and eat our lunch and sip on hot chocolate, just having a good time not being home, or volunteering at school, or running around crazy. Our last day it was about 65 degrees and the most spectacular sunny day ever. A great day to finish our season. Thanks SB!

Today, Jason and I went to a ski shop and I got the best early birthday gift ever. My own motorcycle. I can't wait for next year.