20 March 2013


Maybe it's just a factor of age, but I am so over winter.

For the first time in my life I have an inkling as to why people move to places like Sun City in Arizona, where old people toot around on golf carts down the highway and have orange trees in their front yards whose oranges you aren't allowed to actually eat. Such a thought, and the notion of missing the magical winter wonderland of the intrepid New York snow storm, was bizarre and depressing to me just a few years ago. 

The only way to survive is to experience it vicariously through my jubilant little boy, which I know is cheating.  I always swore to myself that I would not turn him into a proxy for my own feelings because it was not fair to him, but fuck it, it's winter and I'm tired. The last bitter days of cold are stubbornly hanging on here even though the daffodils have peeked their stalks up through the snow and I feel as though I am just holding my breath until I can peel off one more layer.

Even Sam- who is from Scotland for gods sake and a fervent snow sport enthusiast - has been lacking in love for the winter.  We did manage, however, to have some utterly joyous moments in the snow in the past few months, before retreating for hot coffee and bagels.

 The first big snowstorm we went to the park with Roan's friend Cole. Cole is a classmate of Roan's and as luck would have it we knew his parents through a friend and they are great, which makes playdates all the more appealing.  Roan and Cole get along so well and Cole seems to inspire better behavior in Roan, which is great.

Fort Greene Park is perfect for sledding

Roan and Cole get a lift

Cole and Roan

Last month Sam planned a mini vacation for us.  I think I can safely say that this was the first time in nearly 16 years that he planned an entire vacation by himself with only minimal nagging from me.   We just needed to get out of the city desperately.  Sam found this crazy, fabulous place called  The Roxbury Motel in the Catskills.  It was quite something and really quite perfect.  We got one of the simplest, smallest rooms and still had glitter wallpaper and no fewer than 5 polka dot pillows on the bed.  It had a spa and a jacuzzi and was near skiing.  They arranged for us to have dinner at a nearby restaurant called The Peekamoose, which I have to say was as good as any restaurant in Brooklyn, but with an impressive kids play area and an outdoor fireplace where you could toast marshmallows.

Roan in the lap of luxury, snacking on the bed with the iPad
First Jacuzzi experience.  He loved it!

Then we went off to the mountain for skiing, which I always slightly dread. All the set up, the gear, the schlepping, the cold, the cost, clumping around like Frankenstein in boots that garotte my ankles only to be terrified of death or serious injury hardly seems worth it. Sam, on the other hand, could live on a slope. Which way would Roan go?  I think it's obvious.

We borrowed his friend Zephyr's tiny snowboard

Going up at Belleayre

Two peas in a pod

It was insane what a natural he was.  I promise not to be one of those braggy parents who is convinced that every crap their kid takes is a work of genius, but I have to say I was blown away.  The instructors on the mountain were blown away.  When we went skiing in Hokkaido in Japan every third person blowing down the mountain was about 3 years old but I guess here it's not so common, thus the fuss.

Check me out!
Balancing act

He practiced for a good 2 hours the first day.  For a kid who can't sit still for 5 minutes I think this level of focus is remarkable. 

Sam got a little over ambitious and tried to take him down an entire run which was a bit exhausting and stressful, but only for Sam.

Thanks to the very knowledgeable guy on the ski rental department I actually had a great time myself.  He asked me what kind of skier I was and I said "Terrified.  I like ambling down gently and I'm petrified of going fast or falling" and he said "OK I'll give you short skis then"  and he gave me short, fat skis that were half my height.  They were a revelation.  So much easier to manage and not get all tangled up, and I sauntered gently downward on every run.  It was really lovely.

The next day we went to another mountain, Plattekill, and did something called Snow Tubing.  The snow had hardened into sheet ice so holy shit it was fast.  The only part Roan didn't like was getting snow in his face so Sam lent him goggles.

We linked our tubes together and went flying downhill. You can hardly feel the cold at this speed.

No comments:

Post a Comment