And So It Begins

Last year, when I decided not to get a ski pass, I had a knee injury and a 17 month old who was getting difficult to entertain in the lodge. I had visions of the two of us snuggled up together on cold mornings... visions of sewing, and crafting, and working out and reading while he napped. (In my visions, I'm really motivated and Jack is really tired.)

Apparently my visions also did not account for the fact that my sweet, sweet baby would be 2 by the time the ski season started. And that my knee might heal. And that Jack would want to do everything his big brother is doing.

A few weeks ago, I started to worry about the ski season, and what would happen when Dave and Luke left us every weekend morning. "Where Lukie go? Soccer? I go soccer?" Etc. I thought I was keeping my concerns mostly to myself, until Dave said he wasn't planning on leaving today until Jack was safely napping, so it's not just me.

With Jack asleep, and he skiers on their way up the hill, I headed down to the basement, put on my headphones and got on my exercise bike. I did get off, and stop, and readjust things a few times, so Jack can't have been screaming his head off for long before I heard him. Right? I ran up to his room, and gathered him into my loving arms, and tried to console him like only a mother can. He put his head on my sweaty shoulder and said, "No! No like it! No like it! Daddy daddy daddy daddy." Once I had a blanket barrier between my clammy arms and my poor, sweet, neglected baby, he feel back asleep. Then I decided to lay on the couch for a while and wallow in mild guilt. Apparently there are these things called monitors? I am going to look into the concept of setting one up in the basement, so I can hear crying over the sound of the bike or the sewing machine.

It's only until March - Jack and I can get our 2010 season passes then. I think we will be ready for some spring powder days.