As I mentioned last week, Matthew and I took the kids out of school to spend a week at my boss’s cabin at the local ski hill. We had looked into going on a tropical vacation but the cost for the five of us was a little more than we could swallow. Instead, we decided to spend the week honing our newly acquired ski skills and that’s what we did all of last week. How was it? AMAZING. Also, EXHAUSTING.

The days were a good rhythm of routine. Get up, wake up, take the dogs for a walk (me), get our ski gear on. Do two or three runs in the morning, come back for lunch, take the dogs for a walk (Matthew). Do a few more runs, then Matthew sitting with the tired kids (Graham and Emily) while I did a run with the Sporto (Nathan), then me taking G & E back to the cabin while Sr. Sporto (Matthew) and Nathan did a couple of more runs. Take the dogs for a hike in the forest (Matthew)(the rest of us went twice), make dinner (me), start watching the Harry Potter movies for the first time (all of us). Put the kids to bed, have alone time (Matthew and I).

The only variation to this routine was Tuesday. Tuesday! Monday is usually the bad guy, but Tuesday wanted a turn. Monday was PERFECT. Sunny skies, no wind, a temperature just above zero (or freezing)(36 (?) if you’re American). See the photo at the top. We tried a new run called the Grandfather’s trail, which is an easy run that winds all of the way around the mountain. It was a great run to practice turning (Or, for my kids, bombing down while doing the “pizza”) and we had a fantastic day.

On Tuesday morning, we woke up to wind gusts. I took the dogs for a walk and cut it short because furious winds in my face are not something I equate with “enjoyable.” We headed to the hill, like the newbies we are, and I found myself — she who already clenches every time she gets on a chair lift (It’s so HIGH) — finding said chair being blown about. We made it to the top and the wind whipped snow every which way but loose and all three kids were teary/crying. I was green and felt like I might lose my cookies. We made a plan to get down as fast as we could and then head back to the cabin to wait it out. We made it, chilled to the bone despite our good gear, and sat in the cabin for a few hours. We headed back in the afternoon and took the lift on the other side of the hill. Much better, and we managed to get a few runs in.

Tuesday wasn’t my favorite.

The rest of our week was my favorite but, oh. Skiing full days, five days in a row is a little hard on the body. And yet, we fulfilled our promise to do Friday night tubing with the kids. They spin you! Down a big hill! And you laugh/scream!

That lasted for about an hour and then the kids said what I was thinking.

Can we be DONE? I want to go HOME.

That’s exactly what we did. We drove home, put the kids to bed, unpacked the necessities, and then my body waved the white flag and shut down. We had a great week, and are excited to back up to the hill as soon as we can, but my poor (old) body needs to rest up first.

Exhaustion aside, I’m still smiling from our week. My kids, who were so frustrated on their first day of lessons, can ski. And, after spending the first three days doing the “pizza” (snowplowing), they finally heeded their Mom’s advice to practice their turns. Jr. Sporto would shadow Sr. Sporto and Graham and Emily would shadow me. I am so, so proud of them for sticking it out during their lessons, and for how they are so excited to keep learning and getting better (more lessons are booked for spring break).

Best vacation EVER (so far).

More photos from the week:

Christmas recap, done! But that’s not what I’m excited about. I’m excited that we finally made it up to the ski hill to take lessons. OH, YOU GUYS.

We got up to the hill yesterday, about an hour before the kids’ lessons started, in order to get their skis waxed. As we pulled in to the parking lot they were so! excited! They were going to LEARN HOW TO SKI! As we were hanging out in the ski shop, Graham was talking about how we should buy a cabin up there and spend all of our winters SKIING. (This, from a dude who’d yet to strap a pair of skis on.) Before we knew it, the skis were ready and it was time to head down to the group lessons area. I think that the best way to cover yesterday is to do it timeline-style.

9:25 Gather in the area where the groups of children are divided into their respective skills level. Let Mom take an obligatory photo because you are so! excited! to learn how to ski.

9:30 Strap on skis while we wait for groups to be sorted out and walk around a flat area to get the feel for them. So far, so good!

9:45 Find their instructor and as he leads them in a different direction on the “flat” area, Emily slips and then throws herself to the ground in frustration. “THIS IS TOO HARD!” Tears, flailing, the whole bit, despite all of our pep talks telling her that this is how it would be. We begged, we pleaded, we played tough.

9:55 Still dealing with Emily. Her big wish for taking lessons was that she be with her brothers, and not a stranger. We told her that we did not have the ability to teach her, so she either stayed with the group, or she’d have private lessons with a stranger. We also told her to just try it until lunch, and then we’d assess. We walked away as Graham was holding her hand and helping her “walk.”

10:30 We returned and peeked out a window to see them sitting on a snow bank, eating snow. I went to them and asked them if they were on a break, or if something else was going on. Graham, in a teary voice: “We just want to go home.” Emily had a quivering lip and Nathan wiped away crocodile tears while saying, “This is SO HARD.” I told them that it IS hard, but that after they got it, they would have SO MUCH FUN. I had them promise to try until lunch, and then we’d talk about it. Matthew and I stayed to help (the instructor is a great kid, but was outnumbered with five kids who had never been on skis before.)

11:30 Nathan masters “the pizza” (snowplow). Graham is getting there, and Emily has found her balance.

12:00 Lunch. The kids are looking forward to their afternoon lessons.

1:30 Graham (almost) masters “the pizza.” Emily is doing small, unassisted spurts, and staring to “pizza.” Nathan has been told that he will move from the tiny hill to the bunny hill tomorrow.

2:30 Lesson is over. Graham has mastered “the pizza.” Emily is doing AMAZING, and the instructor remarks on her improvement. Nathan won’t stop talking about the bunny hill.

We get home, eat, and then go sit in the hot tub, etc.

TODAY

The kids spent the morning practicing on the wee hill. Normally, those who were ready would be moved to a different instructor so that they could start on the bunny hill, but it’s a busy week. Everyone had to wait for Emily and one other kid. We helped as much as we could but knew she’d be better if her instructor had more one-on-one time with her. We went to pick up our own skis from getting waxed and geared up and returned to hear (and see) that she could do “the pizza”!

We had lunch and the kids were talking about how much they LOVED skiing and how HAPPY they were and how much FUN they were having. A complete 180 from the morning before and it made me so happy. It hurt my heart to see them so frustrated, but I knew that temporary pain would provide years of gain. It was still hard, though. I spent a lot of time watching them through the window upstairs.

After lunch entailed not only their afternoon lesson, but also a lesson for Matthew and I. I skied sporadically throughout my teens and early twenties, but it’s been a good fourteen years and I thought lessons would be a good idea. Matthew predicted that he’d be flailing everywhere and bailing all over the hill, despite the fact that he’s a natural athlete. At 1:15, we met with our instructor, shortly after taking this photo.

After 90 minutes, we were turning, we were gliding, and we were doing hockey stops. Yes, we were on the bunny hill, but we rocked that bunny hill. Bonus: Neither of us bailed or even did any arm-windmill action.

As for the kids? All three of them spent the afternoon ripping up the bunny hill with their instructor. He still did some backwards skiing for Emily by the end of the day, but the boys were free to go and wait for him at the bottom of the hill. We let them go a few times after our lessons, and they seriously flew. And Emily? Well, the instructor thinks she’ll be ready for solo trips by the end of tomorrow.

We can’t wait to be back up there the rest of the week (and the season) to keep getting better and to keep having fun.

Best. Decision. EVER.

When they went home that night I thought that maybe I would train. I mean, why not finish in a decent time, without feeling like I was going to vomit out my lungs? I used the Couch to 5K app last fall to morph my boot camp stamina to a running routine and I found the Bridge to 10K app and downloaded it that very night. While I was doing so, Matthew asked if I still had the running book he had bought me ten years ago when we had first moved here and I had taken up running. I did, and I read up on everything from nutrition to training tips to making sure you had the right shoes. I went out that next week to a running store and got fitted for shoes that seriously make me feel like I’m running on air.

I started telling friends and family that I was going to run a 10K and was a little surprised by the “WOW” comments. I mean, I have friends who have run full marathons, which is 42K. 10K seemed so wimpy compared to 42K. And then I started training. This was no walk (Ha!) in the park. The App lengthens the running times between one-minute walking intervals and I would come back and tell Matthew my distance. I ran 7K! I ran 8K! I ran 9K!

Jennifer and I thought we should do a training run together and so a week ago Sunday she came out here with her big dog, I grabbed my big dog, and we ran down the trail. We soon found that we had the same stride and pace (SLOW) and “Slow and steady wins the race” became our mantra. She thought we should do 11K just to make sure that we could do it. AND WE DID. ELEVEN KILOMETERS. It didn’t register how far that was until Matthew told me that it’s 9K from here to the church. A ten-minute DRIVE away. Woah.

Saturday morning we hit the ActionFest parade with the kids and then we decided to drive the race route to see what it would look like. As we drove along the kids kept asking “And you’ll STILL be running?” I had a good case of the butterflies all day (the run was at 6 p.m.) as the course has a lot of hills (it runs around the base of Giant’s Head Mountain) and summer has arrived – it’s HOT. I posted this:

I’ll be running around the base of this bad boy, starting at 6 p.m.

I had so much encouragement from a lot of you on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram and it helped. A LOT. Thank you.

(Side note: I had asked Matthew to take start and finish photos with the point-and-shoot, but he wanted to use my big camera (Canon 7D). We had a little refresher course before we left and my only request was that he not take photos of us running uphill. There’s no need to document that.)

We went early for the warm-up and then it was time to line up for the race with the rest of the crowd.

Jennifer and I ran with a friend that she’s had since first grade. Ilea was a great running mate.

That’s her husband and one-year-old baby girl, who met us halfway to encourage us. Photo taken by Matthew who, along with our kids, came to cheer us on as well. My three even ran with us for a few minutes and, dang, I need to get them into the running club at school.

Matthew and the kids surprised us by waiting for us at the 8K mark.

He blatantly ignored my request for no UPHILL running photos, but they were THERE and it was AWESOME.

Before we knew it, we were in the final stretch.

Yes, I ran in a running skort. My running capris would have been too hot and I don’t have running shorts. I love the skort. Don’t judge me.

So, that was my time. 1:05. I didn’t win any time awards, and didn’t expect to. I am not a fast runner. But I did it. I didn’t stop running once (Have you tried to drink a cup of water while running? It interferes with BREATHING) and I finished the course. As an added bonus, my step-mom read a study that said if someone my age can run a 10K in around an hour, the benefits to my heart twenty years from now are AMAZING. That’s not a bad thing.

Thanks to Jennifer for spurning me on and encouraging me and for being a pretty rad sister-in-law and friend and Auntie.

Here’s to our next race!

As I mentioned last week, I am going to enter a 10K race with my Sister-in-law. In early June, our small town is overtaken by a plethora of ball teams for an event called Actionfest. There are also food and goods vendors in the park, a parade Saturday morning and a bunch of other related events, including the run. When we decided to sign up we both figured we’d just wing it, as we both run pretty regularly – I generally run 5K every time I hit the trails.

I thought about it more and thought that maybe I should actually train for it. I’m not expecting to make a great time, no, but it would be nice to not be huffing and puffing and doing the army crawl just to make it across the Finish line. I bought the Bridge to 10K app and hauled out my dog-eared copy of The Complete Book of Running for Women. When I first took up running ten years ago (and Matthew bought me the book), I went to a local running store to get fitted for shoes that would be perfect for me. While the Nike Airs I bought at an outlet mall last fall are great for Boot Camp or for shorter distances, I didn’t want to risk injuring myself now that I plan on running longer distances. So, this past Saturday, I went back to that local running store and was brought back to my first love – New Balance runners.

I went for my first training run on Saturday afternoon and brought Diesel along with me, as I usually do (Zoey’s too wee to run long distances). I was pleasantly surprised that when I got to the place where I usually turn around, I was in a good rhythm and ready to keep going until my app told me it was the halfway point.

I don’t know exactly what distance I ran, as the app told me I had done 20.2 miles, total. Ha. Ha! HAAAAAA. Apparently the mountain air messed with the App. Based on my usual turn around point of 2.5 km, and how much further I ran, I’d make a conservative estimation that I ran a little over 7km and honestly could have kept going if I wasn’t, you know, back home.

The only missing element to my training is music. I won’t listen to my iPod when I run with my sister-in-law (obviously) but music is what (prevents me on focusing on my wheezing, and) keeps me going. I sat down before I left and cleaned up my running playlist, but I heard it 1.5 times during my run and that’s simply not (fun, or) necessary.

I need some new running tunes, friends. You don’t have to be a runner, just someone who likes music that makes you move. You know the kind: It’s got a good beat and you can dance to it.*

Suggestions?

*The reference is probably too old for most of you, but ten gold stars if you know it. Because that means I’m not alone in my geriatric life.

Do you remember way back in January when I told you that I had given myself a break from exercise during the Christmas holidays (all of December, really) and not only stopped working out, but decided to eat my way through many a party and thus gained some weight? I did follow through on my plan to attend four (FOUR) Boot Camp classes a week and (mostly) rein in my poor eating habits. By “mostly” I mean that I went back to eating balanced meals instead of an ALL APPETIZER diet, but I still wasn’t being mindful of what I was eating. I managed to tone up and shed some of what I’d gained and was headed in the right direction.

Then, about a month ago, I got a stomach bug that saw me on a diet of toast and ginger ale and missing a week’s worth of classes. Then my regular boot camp took a three-week hiatus and the morning class I had taken, well, I can’t make it to that one right now (I’m getting to the office at 7 a.m. thanks to tax season). I’ve done…okay with exercising on my own. I’ve managed to work out three or four days a week at home but I’ve still eaten WAY TOO MANY Hershey’s kisses out of my coworker’s candy bowl and spend far too much time taking handfuls of goldfish crackers/rice cakes/DORITOS out of the cupboard when I’m at home.

I woke up Saturday morning, put on my favorite jeans and was not particularly pleased with the sight of my waistline (top o’the muffin to you!). This doesn’t mean that I hate my body, no. I still stand by what I wrote. I just know that I’ve been in a cycle of bad eating habits. I’ll tell myself that I will get back on track – I KNOW how to eat well – and then before I know it I’m licking the kids’ empty ice cream bowl and telling myself that this is “balanced eating.” I know better, and I know I know better and then I get mad at myself for not just getting back on track already. I need to take care of this body of mine, because it’s the only one I’ve got.

While sitting with Amanda and watching our girls do ballet on Saturday, she told me that she wanted to sign up for a six-week program (The Fat Shredder) through The Tyson Method (who I did/will do the morning Boot Camp classes through). She’d been doing WW and the morning Boot Camp and while she’s seeing results, she wanted a kick-start, but she didn’t want to do it alone. I didn’t even hesitate. We’re doing it together. A few of our friends have decided to join us, too. Everyone is welcome, so you can join us as well if you would like to. Misery loves company. Or something.

This is no fad diet or anything crazy. It’s about eating three balanced meals and two to three healthy snacks and day and journaling it (I’ve never done this)(Say goodbye to the handfuls of chocolate chips). It includes working out five days a week (my usual). They upload new twenty-minute workout videos every week which keeps it from getting stale. There are recipes and menu plans and everything is good and good for you and tasty and really not any different than what I usually cook. The key thing for me is going to be getting back to the mindful eating – eat stuff that is good for me, because I’m hungry, and not because I’m bored, etc. Having the group of girls in the forum cheering me on (and I, them) will be a huge factor in doing this. ACCOUNTABILITY and all of that.

In fact, since we decided this on Saturday, I’m already being more mindful with what I eat. No more licking the peanut butter off of the knife/out of the container when making lunches for the kids and my sugar consumption is on a time out. Four days in and I feel better already. A little less “puffy.” I’ve done two of the twenty-minute workouts posted online (you get access as soon as you sign up) and they are good and they are HARD. I love it.

My plan is to keep up my twice-weekly evening Boot Camp (it’s an hour-long class) and then fill the other days with the online classes or running. This is no different from what I’ve done for years now and I’m looking forward to getting back into the routine. I’m also excited to stop acting like the family Hoover.

My only hang-up is the whole before/after photo thing. I mean, I love to see others’ transformations, and I get why they want us to do it, but nobody sees me in a bikini other than my husband. And that’s only when we’re vacationing in Mexico or hanging out in our (secluded) backyard. He also doesn’t want me posting bikini photos on the Internet which totally makes sense. I think I’ll do them for my own benefit, but I still need to have ones to show the class. Would a tank top and tight yoga pants work? Or shorts? Argh. Brace yourselves for frustrated Twitter/Facebook statuses on Sunday.

So! Do any of you want to join us this coming Monday? Or do you just want to be our cheering section/sounding board? Do you guys want me to post the photos here when I’m done? I’m shy. (True story.)

One topic that we often end up on is the topic of our bodies. What we like about them, and what we don’t like about them. I get so tired of hating my body, you know? And yet I keep perpetuating the cycle by tearing myself down and picking at this pinch of waist flab and that pinch of inner thigh and only seeing what I don’t like.

(I feel like I should state for the record that I never say any of these things in front of my children. They will have enough body issues of their own one day; they don’t need to be early achievers because of their Mom’s stupid insecurities.)

The conversation got honest and we talked real numbers instead of vague references and it was so freeing. I think that I should just get real here in order to give myself a reality check and maybe to give you a glimpse into why body stuff makes me a little bit crazy.

I make reference to being a “big girl.” At one point, pre-dietitian, I clocked in at 178 lbs. on a 5’7″ frame.

(This may be the perfect time to interject that I have a large frame. I have had three (Three!) Doctors tell me that I am big-boned and have a large frame but that it is “not the “large frame” that many women claim to have.” Two of those three Doctors were men. I’m not sure what the woman Doctor’s issues were. Regardless, medical professionals can attest to my thick bones and wide shoulders and child-bearing hips.)

Once I learned about exercise and eating a balanced diet, my body found itself at 140 lbs. This was the same year that I got married and got to wear a pretty dress and feel like a princess.

I felt svelte and thin and totally comfortable in my body.

We moved here and I kept eating well and took up other forms of exercise and I still picked myself apart. Before I knew it, I was nine months pregnant, 206 lbs., and 48 inches in circumference. Six months later, I was back to 140 lbs and while happy with my progress, I was still not happy with my body.

Soon after came Baby #2. I kept my weight gain to 28 lbs., and was back to 140 lbs. in no time. When Nathan was almost a year old, we all came down with a horrible flu and I got down to 130 lbs. I managed to keep that weight by keeping my caloric intake to (I’m guessing, here) about 800-1,000 calories a day. For a YEAR. I was gaunt and gangly and skinny. I WAS SKINNY. I had wanted to be skinny my entire life and here I finally was! I was also hungry all day long, but who cared? I WAS SKINNY. My ever-hated inner thigh was all but GONE.

We got pregnant with baby #3 and, again, I kept my weight gain in the 28-30 pound range. I got back to my pre-pregnancy weight in a few months and then when Emily was three months old, I got the flu. Again. My weight dropped to 128 pounds. I was skinny. SUPER skinny. I managed to keep it up for about another year.

But then? But then. I got tired of hearing my stomach rumble. I got tired of being unable to help Matthew move a couch. I got tired of feeling so weak. I’ve always been so strong. SO STRONG. But I’d given that up.

Three years ago, I signed up for Boot Camp for the very first time. I regained my strength. I can do squats when everyone else has given up. I can do Jumping Jacks (assuming I have emptied my bladder) for many repetitions. My core is SOLID; I can plank like none other. My back is ripped. My biceps are HUGE (Welcome to the gun show). My chest, well. Let’s just say that my husband likes it.

As for numbers: I’m in the 140-145 pound range. And yet, a part of me kept longing for the days of tiny jeans and extra small shirts. Where my breast bone is sticking out and I am skinny.

No more. NO MORE. I have a daughter who is built exactly like me. I want to be someone that she can look to as a positive example. She is not scrawny but she is smart and she is tall and she is strong and she is beautiful.

As for me? I am tall and I am healthy and I am strong.

Skinny is overrated.

***

I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

Nearly six years into this whole experience of writing my feelings on the Internet, you would think that I would have learned The Golden Rule: Whenever You Write Something Positive, The Opposite Will Occur.

I would write about babies sleeping through the night and would soon find myself awake with them every two hours and then up for the day at 5 a.m. I would write about advances in potty training and then find skid marks in underwear (They still happen, but the skids are thinner). I would write about happy kids with great attitudes and would find myself faced with a toddler who used perfect aim to bounce a sippy cup off of my forehead.

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I was embracing winter. We’d declared peace! We were going to go skiing together! We were BFF’s! We made friendship bracelets for each other! We might even get matching (snowflake) tattoos!

I really need to keep my mouth shut.

We’ve spent the two weeks since that post in near-quarantine. A nasty virus descended on our house which saw Graham missing nearly two weeks of school, with Emily missing almost the same. Matthew and I did the daily, “Who can afford to miss work today?” ritual. Both kids ended up with dueling antibiotics bottles. Emily, ear infection. Graham, sinus/bacterial infection. We did this whole dance back in November and I thought we’d made our Sickness quota for the season. Apparently not.

HOWEVER.

Emily was on the mend earlier in the week and Graham came back to the land of the living on Saturday. While there is a lingering cough, he’s back to being his eight-year-old self. That in itself has it’s own negative points, but he’s healthy.

Sunday afternoon saw us heading to the open skate at the local rink for the first time in…ever. We made our own skating rink two winters ago and the kids have gone skating with their schools, but this was the first time we made it to the local rink as a family.

We’ll be doing it again, for sure. Especially since a certain little Miss CRIED when it was over and asked if we could go again TOMORROW.

We’ll be putting her in CanSkate next fall.

The hardest part of the whole day was Master Graham. He’s been telling us for weeks now that he wants to play hockey and…we’re just not sure we’re ready to be hockey parents. It’s not that I don’t love hockey – I’m Canadian, after all – but it’s such a huge time/money commitment. There is also the fact that being in hockey means that you often miss Sunday service and Boys’ club and a plethora of other activities that are kind of important to us. He’s an…OK skater and we think he wants to join because his friends are joining. This is not necessarily a bad thing but it’s not necessarily a good thing, either. We want to support our kids in pursuing what they love but what if they don’t necessarily love something but the idea of it?

Some days I really feel for our guinea pig first child.

Any hockey families/non-hockey families have any input? We’d love to hear it.

Let’s start with stating the obvious: I hate winter.

I hate the snow and I hate the cold and I hate how my fingertips turn white moments within walking outside (Reynaud’s syndrome) if I don’t wear gloves, even when it’s above freezing. I hate how the snow/melting snow/sanding means that my vehicles look like they’ve been 4×4-ing out in the wild instead of actually just driving to town. I hate how my boots and Emily’s tights end up scuffed with dirt and how we have to buy gloves every two weeks because the kids lose them and how you have to put on five layers just to go outside and you have to take off those five layers every time you come inside and GOD FORBID SOMEBODY HAS TO PEE.

I could go on (and on, and on), but you get the point. Heck, we don’t get the cold and snow that the prairie folks or those out east get (we tend to hover around or above freezing) but for this cold-blooded woman, it’s more than enough.

I hate winter.

The thing is, this winter has been easier on me that the last few years have been. I have struggled with S.A.D. in the past and last winter was particularly awful. I think that returning to an office, as much as I complain about it, has been beneficial. I have to get up and go out and hang out with other human beings not related to me. I also have to wear clothing that isn’t yoga pants. I think that it’s helped. A lot.

Matthew and I have talked about activities that we could do as a family to break up the winter “blahs”. We’ll often simply go out into our yard and go sledding (we have a great hill for sledding) or will have snowball fights/build snowmen and whatnot. The thing is, we tend to spend most days under a grey sky and the days that the sun comes out are just better somehow. We may not be able to do anything about the lake fog but we can get above it…

There’s a ski hill nearby and we know a lot of families who ski on the weekends (and some evenings). Some people I work with even own condos up there. Now that Emily is the magical age of four (which means she’s old enough for lessons) we’re thinking we might try the whole “skiing” thing. I did not grow up in a “skiing family” but learned by going with friends during my teenage years and can stay upright. Mostly. Matthew has never skied a day in his life as he was the captain of the high school basketball team and any sport that could risk him breaking his bones was frowned upon. Plus, from what I gather, he spent every waking moment living and breathing basketball with no desire to try anything different. Heck, he only learned to skate two years ago when we build an ice rink on our property.

He’s thinking that he may start with snowboarding but I think I’ll stick with skiing – I’ve heard that snowboarding can be hard on your knees and I’ve had surgery on mine already. We threw the idea out to the kids yesterday and said we could try it in the next month or two. Graham was all cool with a “Sure, I guess” reply (of course), Nathan told us that he wanted to do jumps and back flips (of course) and Emily asked if she could have pink ski poles (of course).

As much as I hate winter, I’m really excited to try it and see if we like it. I love to exercise and if it can be a family deal (as opposed to solo) where we’re all outside enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, then I think we might have a winner.

If any of you are skiers/snowboarders and have any advice or suggestions, I’d love to hear it. We’re as newbie as they come.

You may have caught wind that we haven’t been a healthy crew here at casa Dykstra. First, Graham had an abscessed tooth and then Emily came down with an ear infection. Last Tuesday, after filling each other in on our kids’ health, a friend of mine and I were talking about how we never seem to get sick anymore thanks to the wonders of Cold FX. We were all smug in our healthiness.

Oh, ho, ho. You would think that I would know not to tempt Murphy and his Law like that but I’m a proven Slow Learner. Either that, or I like to live dangerously.

Wednesday morning, I woke up in the wee hours with a dry cough. I managed to get back to sleep for a bit before heading off to work and hoped that would nip it in the bud. The cough was persistent and as the day wore on, my chest felt heavier and heavier. At first I thought that sweating it out at Boot Camp would be a good idea but by the time came to leave work I was fighting nausea as well and made the decision to head home. I stopped at the pharmacy on the way and obtained some cough suppressant so that I could sleep.

Thursday morning saw me still coughing and sporting a lovely shade of stark white. Matthew had gone hunting and so I got the kids to school and headed to work…only to hand out what I could and head straight back home to bed. No barfing, thankfully, but being upright meant that I was woozy and nauseous and fuzzy. Matthew and the kids arrived home after school and Nathan told us that his ear hurts. Oh, yes. Yes, it did. Matthew head to head to the church to set up for Boys’ Club and so I took deep breaths and carted the three kids to the walk-in clinic. It was, of course, an ear infection.

The rest of the days are all a blur of me going to be early, sleeping in, and then dozing on and off throughout the day. Saturday morning stands out a little bit because Matthew had gone hunting again. He had offered to stay home but our kids are old enough to get up quietly on their own and let Mommy sleep so I encouraged him to go. He was only going for half a day and we would be fine.  When the rest of us woke up, what did we see? Snow. Snow! SNOW. You know what that means, right? The kids wanted to PLAY in the snow. Which meant that they needed snow pants and gloves and toques and boots. OH MY WORD, THE BOOTS. I can get winded when I’m perfectly healthy trying to wedge them into their boots and snow gear and Saturday morning saw me a weak, frail and pitiful example of a woman. I managed to get them suited up and keep it together, though it was hard when Emily kept coming back inside because her gloves didn’t “feel quite right.”

Sunday consisted of four “naps” throughout the day and I managed to get outside for a good fifteen minutes or so but I haven’t eaten anything other than toast and am feeling rather pasty and pathetic. I’m hoping that another long night’s sleep will have me feeling more coherent than not and more capable of functioning as an active member of society. Or, at least, staying awake longer than an hour at a time and possibly getting some fruits and vegetables into this body of mine. I’ve feel pretty much like a useless sloth for the past four days and I’m rather tired (Ha!) of it.

Here’s to a better week.