My Two Writing Teachers colleagues and I are hosting the 13th Annual March Slice of Life Story Challenge, in which hundreds of teachers participate in posting a story per day.
Dear Kids,
Today was our mountain’s closing day. I am so thankful that we were able to get one last day of skiing today, but it wasn’t easy, and it was pretty sad for all of us.
First of all, the two of you were not getting along today. In the car, on the way to the mountain, I overheard this conversation between the two of you in the back seat:
“Who is your favorite person,” Lily asked Jackson.
“You are!” said Jackson. Aww, that’s sweet I thought to myself.
“Well, you’re like, number 10 or 11, or maybe more like 20 on my list,” Lily said to Jackson.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Sheesh! Siblings can be so cruel. But we made it to the ski area in relative peace and skied a few runs before coming back to the car to eat our peanut-butter-and-jellies.
It was after lunch when the two of you really started bickering. Along with lots of little jabs and disagreements, we managed to do two more runs after lunch. But on the second chairlift ride, Jackson sat next to me and cried. He was exhausted and wanted to go home.
When we got to the top of the chairlift, Jackson and I got off the lift and slid to where Lily was waiting, ready to go ski. “Look at the snow coming down!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement and joy. My heart was heavy as I told her that this would need to be our last run.
“Noooo!” she roared. Then she turned to her brother. “I HATE YOU!” she screamed. “This is our last chance to ski for the whole entire YEAR!” And Jackson cried and cried.
Finally, when Lily accepted that the decision had been made, and Jackson was ready to go, we managed to ski our very last run and have a relatively fun time. The snow was soft and coming down in big snow-globe flakes. As far as last runs for the season go, it was pretty great. I tried to convince Jackson to go up one last time, but after he fell a third time, I stopped trying to convince him. I could see that he was toast. Despite the snow that was coming down, and even though it was our very last chance to ski for the season, I knew we had to call it a day.
At the bottom of the hill, when it was time to get in the car, Lily’s protested. “Just one more run! It’s our last chance!” she begged desperately. And even though my own thoughts and feelings matched hers, we dragged ourselves to the car, loaded up our stuff, and reluctantly, eventually, started to drive home.
Skiing and being outdoors is what our family revolves around. Skiing is filled with rituals and traditions. Saturday ski club training, events, barbequing with friends, even all the getting up early and packing our stuff. It’s what we do for six months out of the year. The ski season is supposed to end with pond skimming, at least one day skiing in a tee-shirt, and a big party in Lot 1—not with my kids fighting in the back seat of the car.
I worry that today was a preview of what’s to come for the next few weeks as we settle into a life with no school, no work, and no skiing. Will we spend our days bickering and fighting? Or will we find ways to take care of each other and have fun?
I have said this before in at least one other letter, but I guess only time will tell.
Love,
Your Mom