Writing on the Wall

The window crayons are a pain.  They are kind of messy and hard to wipe off.  But who said art was an easy process?  The kids have been busy creating their work everyday and then V and I have taken turns doing the dirty work of cleaning the canvas. This is Luca's spot.  He teeters on a chair to reach the tall spots and will often stop, hop off and scoot back to look at his work.  He'll add another line and then say, "There.  That's right." 

 

 

I love to see what they leave behind as they scitter to their next adventure, leaving their work to sit brightly on the windows.  Mia has been signing off "Mia F. Pellegrino" lately.  With Valentine's Day approaching, Mia said, "I feel it....and I'm starting to plan."  Who knew my sliding glass doors were vision boards of sorts. 

Seein'

We took the kids skiing this weekend.  And by "we", I mean me.  We had planned to go up as a family as this would mark the first time for Luca.  Now that he's three, he's been talking about "seein'" for months.  We had told him last year that this would the year he could strap some skis on and add one more to our downhill trio.  V was diagnosed with the flu just before we left but soldiered on anyway.  He argued that he was on the tail end of the sickness, as it had gone undiagnosed for over four days.  I hesitantly agreed to let him drive up with us and head to the hotel afterward, as we had planned.  No "seein'" for V though.

I had both kids in the lodge, carefully pulling on long underwear, ski socks, bibs, coats, gloves, helmets, and goggles.  An older man was sitting nearby, enjoying his drink, watching me.  Clearly a father also.  "Nice work Mama" he said approvingly.  When I finished up Mia and set her aside, I began to gently cajole Luca into his gear.  "Whoa.  Another one.  I was impressed with your speed and grace with the girl. You've got two to dress though."  Yup.  Another tiny body to get into gear.  I pushed Luca's feet into his boots, asking if crabs were biting his toes, checking to make sure nothing was kinked or pinched.  I felt sweat drip along my breastbone.  I hopped up, feeling almost successful, when Luca, shouted, "My pants hurt."  I unzipped his bib and tried to help but that's when the weight, literally, of the event began to hit Luca.  His face scrunched up and suddenly his long underwear itched.  His ski socks felt funny.  His coat was "squishy", His gloves were too big.  His helmet was "wiggly" and his goggles were "goofy".   "Hurry up Mama" my cheering squad encouraged me.  "I know.  I know.  Onward and upward as they say right?" I snapped into my boots and carried Luca under one arm while holding Mia's hand with the other.  I shouted back to my older friend, sitting by the window, "You know there is a special spot in heaven for mothers.  And there must be a REALLY special spot for mothers who teach their children to ski."  He raised his cup to me, in a final salute, as we headed out into the gorgeous Colorado day to make some Pellegrino history.  We hit the snow.  Luca held onto my pole as I maneuvered him around and he kept shouting, for all to hear, "LOOK AT ME!  I'm SEEIN'.  I'm SEEIN'!"  Like a blind artist who has finally realized his talents.  It was a beautiful sight to behold. 

Mia is a skier.  Through and through.  She hit the lift and even said over her shoulder, "Mom, don't worry about me.  I can ride as a single if you want to sit alone with Luca."  God how I love their budding independence.  She skied beautifully, shouting over her shoulder, "Try to keep up!"

I ended up signing Luca up for a one hour lesson, which proved to be the most boring hour of Luca's life.  I watched him from the lift as his instructor had him paddling around on his skis like some kind of wayward penguin.  My heart fell as I knew he would have more fun with me.  Sorry tiny buddy.  Next time, it's just the two of us.  I just thought the hour would allow Mia and me to ski, and would give Luca some time to just work at his own speed.  When I went into the lodge to pick him up after the hour was up, he was fast asleep, head on the table and coat unzipped.  Snoring.  His tiny legs dangled down from the bench with little bitty boots strapped to his feet.  The instructor explained that he stood up to grab Luca some juice and when he returned, Luca was snoring.  I woke him up and gave him his promised treat of soda and skittles.  Needless to say, he can't way to ski again. 

This is how we prepped for Luca's first adventure skiing.  The kids got scooters for Christmas and created a "scooter track" through the house.  Lucky me.  They like to strap on their ski gear to hit the track.  Whatever works, right?