6 posts tagged “snowboarding”

Today, we held our last yard sale ever.  Ever!  (Here's where you ask: Why ever?  How are you sure that you'll never have another yard sale?)  Answer: We will never have a yard again, so we can't ever have another yard sale. 

Our ideal house has come on the market in California, and I'm headed out there on Tuesday to buy it.  It's the perfect size, perfect location, perfect everything, with perfectly zero yard, because that's how they roll in Silicon Valley.  Of course, I've only seen the place on the internet... but since when do virtual pictures lie?  (Here's where you ask: What are you drinking?)  Answer: Coffee.  My kid hasn't eaten solid food in thirteen days, so I've been up every two hours of the night to give him a feeding supplement.  It's like having a freakin' newborn.  So guess what I sold in the yard sale?  Every last damn bit of baby stuff I own that I haven't already given away, because, in the words of Starving Dash, "I'm all done with that."

In any event, we raked in some cash, spent it all on the $1.67 per can feeding supplement that Dash downs four of per day, and called it a success.  Our trash became a lot of treasures for people, and it was our best yard sale ever -- fitting for the last one!

But alas, I forgot!  Winter will come again too soon, and I'll be snowboarding again... hopefully avoiding those kind of yard sales like the plague.  Just call me Betty, and I am ready for whatever the future may hold...

As I sit here drinking a cup of kindness, I offer a quick "happy new year" post alongside apologies for my sporadic and slow posting over this vacation.  While we do have cable internet atop our mountain, it has been rather testy, and most days we've had to call the company at least twice to be "reset."  We'll work on a more permanent solution to that when we're back for spring break.

Meanwhile, our vacation has been everything we'd hoped it would be -- that is, if we overlook Petunia's nocturnal asthma attack two nights ago that scared us all half to death.  But it wouldn't be a Douvos family vacation with at least one sickness derailment (reference ER visits in December '04, Petunia's pneumonia in WV; April '06, Dash's pneumonia, also in WV; summer '06, Petunia's head-to-toe mystery rash in MD; etc.) and weather issues (reference every trip that the Guv and I have ever taken together, as it's always cold and raining, even in Hawaii '04).  We're getting out of here a full day early because we just received eight inches of snow this morning, and at least five more will dump on us tomorrow, then five more Wednesday.  So... we'll probably be ringing in the New Year from our beds in NJ, driving conditions willing.

On our way out, as I look at this winter wonderland, I find my eyes glossing over; it's so very beautiful, and I really don't want to leave.  Even with my still-going-strong tail-end bruise, which has oddly morphed into the shape of Africa, lending it a good nickname, I'm crying a little inside because it'd be great to get in a little last-minute snowboarding this afternoon instead of loading the car.  The arcs of snow produced as I carved down the mountain would look really cool... and, well, my falls would be so much softer on this glorious powder.

Oh well, we're outta here... and already praying for a good Easter snowfall, since that's when we'll be back!

Happy New Year!

Yesterday, my second day of snowboarding class, was not as good as my first lesson.  In this lesson, I was learning to connect toe-edge and heel-edge turns to make S-turns all the way down the hill.  These moves are essential to learning how to carve on a board.  For beginners riding a normal boarding stance, riding on the heel edge is usually easiest, and I took to it like a fish to water the first day, hardly falling at all.  I didn’t work a lot on the toe edge because it’s harder and a bit scary – you’re basically riding backward down the hill, facing the top of the mountain instead of the bottom, plus, the toe edge on this specific hill goes a lot faster because of the grade.  So yesterday, riding on my toe edge as much of my heel edge presented quite a challenge, and I didn’t quite rise to meet it.

One might not realize how punny that statement is.  Bluntly, I spent most of the day on my ass, and it hurt.  A lot.  I have a bruise so large on my left buttcheek that the Guv, a seasoned athlete, declared it to be the worst, largest bruise he’s ever seen on anyone ever.  It is black, blue, purple, green, and yellow and even a bit red, and it’s the size of a super-large grapefruit.  In other words, it covers my whole left side.  Looking at yesterday made me nauseous, but that may be because I also hit my head (helmet!) pretty hard several times while trying not to fall on my butt yet again.  (My head's fine today.)  My left knee sported a nice shiner this morning as well.   Yesterday was not a good day.

And why, why did this happen to me yesterday?  I was afraid.  Every single – EVERY SINGLE – fall was purposeful on my part, and it was because I was afraid that I was going too fast and would end up falling harder later on down the hill.  I did the S-turns – quite a few of them, actually – but never made it the whole way down the terrain because of my fear of speed.  Quite frankly, I don’t know that I’ve ever been afraid in my life, except briefly after 9-11 those first few times when the Guv boarded a plane.  There are times that I should be afraid and am not because I am naïve.  Snowboarding may be one of these times.

I’m not quite sure how I’m going to come out on this one, especially as my mother’s coming to visit and probably won’t take well to seeing me obviously damaged.  To boot, my butt really does need a few days of R&R.  But the fact is, I’m not going to get seriously injured – just seriously banged up – and I want to do this badly enough because, in the end, it is very, very fun, even with the falls.  Until I biff, I feel like I’m flying, and that feeling, along with loads of Motrin and sangria, counteracts this bruise and my headaches quite nicely.

Rox and instructor

The pic on the left is me walking with my instructor to my first snowboarding lesson.  I am pleased to report that I not only did it: I LOVED IT!  It is totally fun, much more like skateboarding or surfing than skiing.  I felt like I was flying.  I learned to toe traverse, heel traverse, j-turn, and stop.  And yes, I fell -- you actually have to learn to fall well and get back up -- but, actually, I biffed a lot less while traversing down the hill on my board and a lot more while going back up on the rope tow.  Rope tows are not friendly to snowboarders, and falls from that thing are much worse than falling while boarding.  But, after another lesson, I'll be ready for the next size hill and accompanying t-bar. 

Since Petunia's second ski lesson (she's loving it!) started an hour before mine, I hung out in the ski lodge with some other parents watching their kids.  One woman was knitting as she waited and asked me if I was going to join Petunia on the slopes.  I told her, "No, actually, I'm taking my first snowboarding lesson this morning."  She gasped and asked, "Really?  Aren't you afraid you'll get hurt?"  I laughed, shook my head "not at all" and held my tongue, because I really wanted to say, "Actually, I'm more afraid of becoming a mom who sits on her butt and knits."

One day back in October, Petunia decided that she had to do her math homework with her father.  I usually require homework to be finished as soon as Petunia gets home from school, because otherwise we have a huge battle over it, making it take twice as long.  But on this night, something on her math worksheet piqued her interest, and she wanted the Guv to participate -- so we set it aside. 

Meanwhile, the Guv works over an hour's commute away, on the far side of Philly from where we live in NJ.  On a good day, his commute to work is under an hour, though his commute home is always well north of that.  Recently, there have been a lot more bad days than good days, and it's frequent that he's walking in minutes before bedtime.  This is problematic for several reasons, most notably that daddy's arrival home is Very Exciting!  This makes children want to Play!  Not Sleep!  But, of course, it also means that we didn't all have dinner together followed by some family time and Christmas story reading.  The situation is frustrating us all.  The Guv is a fantastic father who participates in all aspects of the kids' lives -- but this participation is limited by geography.

When 7:45 rolled around on the night of Petunia's saved math homework, I announced to her that we had to do her math homework right now, because Daddy wasn't home and bedtime was nigh.  She had a total and complete meltdown.  She screamed "WHY IS DADDY NEVER HOME?" at me.  While I was tempted to defend the Guv, I offered up a response that I thought would stop the tantrum: "Petunia, he would be home, if we lived in Pennsylvania near his office.  But we live here in NJ, and sometimes it takes Daddy a long time to drive home."  She didn't respond.  She did her homework quickly and went to bed with not another word.

And then, Petunia went to school the next day and told everyone we were moving to Pennsylvania.  One of her little friends came up to me after school in tears, asking: "Is it true?  Is it true that you're moving far away?"  Teachers called me to ask "when?"

The problem is that I like it here very much, maybe even love it here, where we live in this Norman Rockwell American town.  We can walk to school and to get pizza, the kids ride their bikes safely along the sidewalks, and we know all of the faces.  It's far from perfect -- but it's small and safe.  But who am I to dig in my heels when my second grader wants to move?  I want Daddy home earlier too.  It'd be nice to be able to pop in and have lunch with him, or to drop Petunia off at his office to do her homework in an adjacent office that already bears her homemade nameplate.

So, we're thinking about crossing the border, which might as well be a world away.  I'm floundering in a sea of towns and schools and preschools, all of which I know nothing about.  Petunia has applied to a couple of private schools, but I just started looking for preschools for Dash today and am finding some to be full already for fall 2008.  For the Guv, this move shortens his commute.  For me, this affects my entire enterprise as CEO of the household.  I have to find the school, the preschool, the church, the doctors, the dentist, and definitely the closest liquor store.  This is exciting and exasperating.  This is why I'm not in the holiday spirit: I'm too busy with the possibility of having to put my house on the market in the new year, searching for another one, and calling around to figure out where to land this ship.  We're going to Vermont in eleven days, and I couldn't be more glad to escape all of the planning, because I'm leaving it all behind, strapping on a snowboard and a devil-may-care attitude, and escaping, if only for ten days.  That'll either put me in the holiday spirit or in the hospital...

In theory, I should write a post on Halloween, but I'm just too sick of it.  Those of you who have multiple young children will understand.  The kids had a blast, but I'm freakin' exhausted...

...in part because we're preparing for a yard sale on Saturday.

Presently, I'm infatuated with the very notion of snowboarding, in which context yard sale means something totally different (for those too lazy to click the link, which takes you to a fun snowboarding dictionary, "yard sale" basically means falling down in a magnificent fashion, often taking others out with you).  Since my brain is already 51 days ahead taking my first boarding lesson in Vermont, I'm having trouble focusing on the here and now.

Which brings me back to my yard sale: We have too much stuff.  We need to get rid of this stuff.  We took bags and bags of stuff to donate to our church's rummage sale last month, but we still have mountains.  A toddler bed and mattress, a high chair, four outgrown/no longer in service bicycles.  And much more.  Big stuff.  Stuff that others will want, and cart away and -- ta da! -- will buy.  This is my Black Friday shopping money, people!  I used to say it's not about the Benjamins, but I've been busting my "bahookie" (my favorite Petunia-coined term) preparing for this thing, and it's time for Mama to get hers, you know?! 

And after the yard sale, it'll be only 49 days until we leave for Vermont, where I'll be rippin' flake as Airdog Betty.