Skiing

With all the Michigan snow lately, we've been trying to get outside as much as possible. Somehow, the skiing trips push me into a new level of introspection about this time in our lives, how quickly it goes by, and how best to make the most of it. As we ski around, we are surrounded by others who are there mostly without kids. They pull up to the parking lot, hop out of their (clean, organized) cars, pop on their skis and take off for a few hours of uninterrupted enjoyment of a great sport. We, on the other hand, take an hour to pack up the car to its maximum capacity, take another hour to properly dress our two squirming boys, and then spend the (usually short) time trying to keep things fun so that they might possibly develop an interest of their own in an activity that we like. There are often cold hands, runny noses, plentiful crying, digressing tromps off into the woods to look for icicles, and little actual skiing. As we watch the other skiers zipping around in relative freedom, I find myself feeling jealous. What would it be like to get actual exercise? To remember what it is to glide quietly through the winter woods on a 2-hour excursion? To arrive so unencumbered? But over and over again, we get huge smiles and words of encouragement or even congratulations from our fellow skiers as they pass us -- "That's so awesome!" or "Good for you!" or "He looks great!" and sometimes even, with an odd smile, "I remember those days..." While I might be feeling envious of everyone else, everyone else seems to think we are the coolest ones out there. And so I start to wonder - who is having more fun? Them, skiing peacefully, or us, introducing our children to this new activity and watching them learn to love it, chaotic though it might be. As soon as I really start to think about it, there is no question which shoes I'd rather be filling. This time of chaos and burden and the need to pack up 8 bags in order to do anything outside for more than 3 minutes will soon be over and I know that I will miss it enormously. The joy of watching Alden excitedly learn to ski independently and listening to Soren tell us over and over, "Soren not fall down!" can't really be compared to anything else. As my cousin, Erica, once said to me - parenting isn't really all that fun in the moment. It is the cumulative effect of ten thousand exhausting moments that somehow add up to immeasurable joy. I keep trying to remember that and to remember that in a few, very short moments, Carl and I will be skiing alone again -- enjoying it for sure, but maybe in a very different way. And maybe we'll pass by some young, tired, disheveled family along the trail, and in seeing them, we'll likely feel the same nostalgia and longing that our family seems to bring out in others today. It's not always easy or natural to love this stage of life, but if we try our best to be present and aware of the opportunity for joy, I sometimes discover that it's right there waiting to be embraced.