Cozy Family Mountain Retreat

Things change when you start a family, that’s no secret. But sometimes, okay – often, changes that are unexpected pop up and they’re some of the best. Before I became pregnant with our first son, Dashiell, I was an avid skier turned snowboarder. I looked forward to our Christmas trip to my parents’ mountain house every winter for long days on the slopes, followed (obviously) by short nights in front of the fire with plenty of beverages on hand.

The first winter I couldn’t snowboard was kind of a novelty. I liked being pregnant around the house, cooking and reading and resting. I was sad to miss out on the epic powder, but it was just one year, so no biggie. The next year we had a 10 month old and my husband and I did get out together one day. I mostly liked that we had time together doing something active, for a change. I was happy to find that I wasn’t too rusty on my board, but also realized that the urge to go faster and get better… it wasn’t *really* there anymore. The next year, surprise!, I was pregnant again. And though I was very early in my pregnancy and probably could have gone out for the day if I wanted, I told myself it wasn’t worth it. I spent time playing with Dashiell, we went on a few walks (in our Ergo of course), we played in the snow a bit, I was content. After all, next year I’d be back on the slopes again.

This Christmas we were back at the mountain house. It snowed every day, conditions were perfect, lines were short… I could have joined my husband for a day on the slopes. My parents would have happily watched the boys. But I realized that my interests have, well, changed. I was perfectly content playing trucks in the snow on the deck off the living room with Dashiell. Playing with Forrest, our 6 month old, by the fire. Letting other family members watch both of them so I could spend the afternoon in the kitchen cooking. It was cozy.

But we did have to get out of the house, for everyone’s sake. So we strapped both boys into our own Ergos, and headed out on little adventures every day. (Strollers don’t cut it on snowy streets!) We didn’t mind a little snow falling on our faces. And it was so nice to be out as a family with no plans for the day except to be together – and to ride the gondola, of course. There isn’t a toddler boy on this planet who wouldn’t get a kick out of riding in a little pod with automatic doors (automatic doors!) to the top of a mountain. And there isn’t a baby boy who doesn’t like the spend the day strapped to his mama.

 

Next year? I wonder if I’ll decide to go out for a day. Maybe. I might be waiting for the kids to be old enough to learn to ski themselves. I imagine that’s when it will become fun for this mama again. I’m perfectly happy embracing my new roll as maker of hot chocolate until then. It’s a good gig. And warm.