Proof That This Lunatic Snowboards Too!

I thought I'd post what we do the other half of the year: well, at least from my point of view. First you spend zillions of dollars to re-outfit everyone who grew since last winter: Dragon goggles for James (plus new helmet, pants, coat, gloves, socks...), pink boots with twisty-knob laces to match pink bindings for Maren, and the list goes on. Then you crowd into the Suburban with six snowboards, six (if friends don't come too)bundled bodies, enough food to have kept the Donner Party alive for years (beef jerky, cupcakes, cuponoodles, hot chocolate, oranges, trail mix), and sing "All the Single Ladies" by Beyonce at the top of your lungs through Logan Canyon. At the Beaver Mountain parking lot you frantically scramble to catch up with the kids as they SPRINT for the lift. Then you pray that you don't crash and die getting on or off the lift, only to crash and die (or at least crash and get really, really stuck in the powder in the trees if listen to "OK, Mom, follow me!") on the slope. Either way your cheeks and nose have frostbite, your knees and thighs are BURNING like you've just done a marathon, and then some idiot skier comes flying by you covering you head-to-toe in snow-spray. . .

Seriously, I am having fun learning to snowboard. The kids laugh when it takes me an hour just to make one run (they timed me once), but I promise I will keep at it until I can keep up with them and look like I know what I'm doing at the same time.