I’m going skiing for the first time ever in my life.
With only my super-cute husband. NO KIDS.
No one will be asking me for Goldfish or if they can play their Leapster. No one will be yelling and bickering in the background (at least no one I will be responsible for correcting). I won’t be changing any diapers (at least I don’t think) and I won’t touch a sippy cup for five days.
JJ’s brother, Kent, and his adorable wife, Kim, are going with us.
It will be so very fun. I think.
Don’t get me wrong – I love Kent and Kim. I really, really love JJ. I am relishing the thought of spending five days with only him though my mama heart is hurting just a little bit. (Oh, I know. For crying out loud. Get a life.)
But skiing? Seriously?
I would have chosen a beach that would allow me to drink tropical, fruity drinks with an umbrella, read magazines all day long and nap lazily on a sun chair.
It’s time to grow and try something new. I’m trying to have an open mind. Really. I am.
It’s just that I have to finagle limbs of all kinds into snow pants, heavy winter coats, hats, ridiculous mittens/gloves that my kids can’t seem to get their little fingers into, and boots ALL THE TIME IN THE WINTER.
Getting on my own winter gear while on vacation is not sounding like fun to me.
I’m kind of tired of the hassle.
But alas, I’m going to try it. I know it will be fun. I just know it.
I already looked at the place where we will be staying. There’s a spa. And a lodge. Whew.
I’m mostly looking forward to some writing time. I will be starting my story and plan to publish the first installment next week.
Until then, I’m on the slopes, pals. Or maybe not.