Getting My Hopes Up

Two years ago around Valentine's Day, Brett and I took our first real kid-free vacation since having kids. We decided to go back to Snowshoe Mountain in West Virginia for a week of skiing.

We had been there once before when I worked at Sandestin, another Intrawest-owned resort. I had received a free two-night/three day ski package in a beautiful one-bedroom condo in the center of their mountain-top village. We had a great time and I couldn't wait to come back.

In 2008 we finally decided the boys were old enough for us to leave them while we returned to Snowshoe for five days of skiing. We decided to make the most of our vacation by going through Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

We went tent camping (!) in the mountains (!!) in February (!!!). I wore my fuzzy blue bathrobe and my headband to bed and remained quite cozy. Brett's sock hat had fallen off during the night leaving his shaved head exposed.


We spent the next day driving through the Blue Ridge Parkway.

By the time that we got to Shenandoah National Park, the little cold that Brett had felt coming on the day before had worsened.

As soon as we got to the Inn at Snowshoe, Brett put himself to bed with pneumonia and stayed there most of the week.

He drugged himself as best he could with DayQuil and managed to hit the slopes a few times.

For the most part, I was left on my own. I still enjoyed myself, but I was lonely without him, and felt sorry that he was feeling so bad.

As we left Snowshoe Brett said, "I never want to see this place again." And I believed him. He had been miserable. It was arguably the worst vacation he had ever had.

We still receive promotional e-mails and brochures from Snowshoe from time to time. With all of the snow on the East Coast that has been in the news lately, Brett recently wondered aloud, "How much snow do you think Snowshoe has gotten this year?" Then he said, "Hey! Do you want to skiing?" I quickly and enthusiastically responded, "YES!" even though I knew he was only joking.

The next day Brett started looking at their web site and suggested that I give them a call to find out more about the rates and ski packages. I still didn't think he was serious until he called me the next afternoon (he never calls me!) and asked if I checked the rates yet.

After discussing the rates together I confided in Brett that I was in serious danger of getting my hopes up; I was starting to feel the excitement of a possible ski vacation rising in my chest. He replied, "Don't do that. Don't get your hopes up." Oh, but I have!

When Brett asked me the next day if I had called his parents to see if they could watch the boys, I knew he was completely serious.

Today sealed the deal. We are going skiing again! At Snowshoe! Even though Brett swore that I would never have that special privilege again on account of how miserable he was the last time! We leave in just over one week.

All I can say is, we better have a fabulous time. Otherwise Brett will hold true to his promise of no future ski trips to Snowshoe. And I don't want that to happen. Wish us luck!

Happy Valentine's Day

Ryan's preschool class exchanged Valentine's Day cards on Monday. I had not gotten around to thinking about it until Sunday evening. Thank you, Family Fun! I checked out their web site and found this easy and very cute heart-fish valentine. If I had been more on-the-ball, I could have cut the hearts and had Ryan help me assemble them. Instead, I put them all together, wrote the messages, and had Ryan address and sign them the next morning. Todd and Ryan both really liked them, especially when I explained the significance of the message. Fish swim in schools, and children go to schools--get it? Ha ha ha! So, Ryan's classmates are little fishies! Ha ha ha. These were definitely the most colorful (and in my opinion, the cutest) valentine from Ryan's class.

While I was on Family Fun looking for Ryan's card, I found an idea I thought Todd would like to do for his class: a candy airplane. Since I was feeling so proud of myself for how Ryan's cards turned out, I wanted to get started right away on Todd's. Todd loved the idea so I purchased the necessary candy while the boys were at school. I printed gum wrappers that said "Happy Valentine's Day", and printed little banners that said, "To ____ From (Todd). Hope this day is miles above the rest!" When Todd came home from school we started putting them all together. I had done one example before Todd came home, and it was much easier having Todd's help. I threaded the rubber band through the Life Savers; Todd placed the Smarties between them; then (this was the biggest help) he helped stick the gum through one side of the rubber band; and I wrapped the rubber band around the other side. We finished it off by tying the (addressed and signed) banner to the back of the airplane. I sent them to school with Todd on Tuesday for him to distribute. (Todd's class is collecting the valentine's all week and opening them on Friday at his class party.) I was so proud of myself for being ahead of the ball game. That doesn't happen very often.

I didn't realize how popular this candy airplane idea was. When I was buying the candy, the cashier asked if I was making airplanes. She said there was another lady in the store that morning who was doing the same thing and had told the cashier about how she was making them. When Todd came home from the bus on Tuesday, he said that a boy on the bus had an airplane that he had made in his class. So, the idea isn't that original here, but I think the kindergartners will all love them anyway. (Let's just hope no one else in Todd's class is making them.)

The boys have seen Valentine's Day decorations around, and of course, Ryan has been interested in the funny man shooting arrows. A few days ago Ryan asked me about it, and I explained that Cupid was shooting "love arrows". These love arrows don't really hurt ("love hurts" is not a phrase I am ready to explain). They just make you love people. We (Todd, Ryan, and I) played a fun game where we pretended to shoot love arrows with our fingers. The person who was shot had to name someone that they loved.

Just a few minutes ago, Ryan and I had this conversation.
Ryan: Mom, why don't you wish that love arrows were real?
Mom: I don't know. Do you wish they were?
Ryan: Yeah. 'Cause I want to buy them.
Mom: Why? So that you can make people love you.
Ryan: Yeah.

I love you, Ryan! (And I think you just want love arrows because you like to shoot things--anything.)