Trips and Tales

Warning: This is a lot of stream of consciousness jumble that has been rattling around in my brain this week. Wade through the muck if you wish or skip to the pictures at the end.

We have reached two fairly insignificant (in the grand scheme of things) milestones over here and they are both tugging at my heart and head a bit. It's the little milestones that give me the biggest twangs, probably because I don't watch them approach and prepare for them for months; instead these things sneak up and bite you when you're least expecting it. These little benchmarks -- Molly's first drop-off play date and our first family ski vacation -- also seem just a little bigger today than they did even yesterday in the context of friends of ours announcing that they are expecting their first baby this summer. Whenever I hear from good friends and wonderful parents-to-be, it takes me back to that incredible time being pregnant with Molly. I had all the excitement in the world and no hands-on knowledge of the journey on which I was about to embark. There really is no way to be fully prepared for parenthood.To hold your newborn, well, that's just out of this world. Fast forward four years, though, and I'm getting kicked out the door at a friend's house and I'm watching my big girl ski by herself... it's hard and great and makes me smile and makes me cry and makes me feel all twisty inside and feels so big. We've done summer trips but the winter trips always seemed (and sort of still are, let's be honest) a pain in the patootie with infants and crawlers and tiny people. Even now, there is so much stuff to lug, and boots and skis and skates to put on and off three thousand times an hour (I counted); potty breaks take 100 hours when your child insists on removing all outer wear before climbing up for three seconds of tinkling; my little linebacker feels like he's eaten an elephant when he wants to be carried through a foot of snow. But, BUT, this year it also worked. It means (for now, anyway) that our lives have shifted to another phase. We have a little more freedom to do big kid stuff, to have some adult time, to do special things in which everyone can participate. We're not tethered to pack 'n plays and infant car seats in the way we have been in the past. It's a little, inevitable shift in our universe, but it leaves me with lots of thoughts about where we've been, where we're going, the incredible experience that our friends are embarking on, and all the memories and experiences that are woven together to create our family's story. I realized recently that Molly tends to be underwhelmed herself by the big hurdles and hoops that she jumps over and through, and instead is super impressed with herself when she does small things -- finishing a hard puzzle, remembering all the words to a song, being brave when shampoo gets in her eyes, being best friends with the ski instructor who she ran away from the day before because he was a little scary looking, getting her shoes and hat and coat on by herself, without being asked (okay, I love this too). Her life is made up of the small moments, the everyday triumphs, instead of being measured by the big events. I wonder if marking time like this will ever change for her since clearly it hasn't for me. So, I sat here this week, thinking of these little things and appreciating them for what they are, the reminders that we continue a march forward to new, exciting things but are constantly informed by our past. We can only anticipate the future because we keep reminding ourselves from where we came. As the door closed behind me after I dropped Molly off at her friend's house, and I breathed loudly to be free of the dramatics of our morning, I flashed to that little baby that I held in December of 2007 and marveled a bit at how we had arrived at this point. And I went off on a run, grinning like a darned idiot, thinking of how much our week has held when not one significant event occurred.

Hockey night in Canada

Gorgeous views, gorgeous snow on day 1

Why are the germ-infested arcades always so appealing?

Getting ready for fresh tracks. Goggles should be worn in the house at all times. 

Ski bunny

Day 2 skiing -- serious powder, which was a whole new world for this east coast skier

Snow machine mania

Fits right in up there...

A rather harrowing trip home through the passes

It clearly was a two-binky sort of ride