Boys and Airplanes

There is nothing funnier than traveling with kids on an airplane, especially when you have a seasoned traveler like my husband who lies calm, even trips.

We start the morning with 12 bags - 4 ski bags (about the size of body bags and just as heavy) 3 suitcase and 5 backpacks.  Hubby starts with a lecture that "it is everyone's job to take care of all this stuff," as I am hauling the body bags up 8 steps and out to the car.  Once they are up there, the kids do par core all over the bags while I crawl on my hands and knees in the condo checking under beds, couches, chairs - finding 2 mis matched socks, one T-shirt and my own business card.

During the drive to airport, we get a little turned around.  Usually when you are lost, children will immediately start asking stupid questions as you are trying to figure out the GPS, listen to Rolf of Google Maps tell you that you are lost and arguing with your seat mate about which direction to take.

Didn't the kids in the back notice that you turned Michael Buble all the way down - BECAUSE you don't have time to listen to "I wanna go home," when you are LOST!

It starts with them asking if we are lost, then bugging each other until one of them yells, "STOP!"  At which time both parents turn and explain in what they think is the most menacing voice about being lost, needing quiet to think!  Does that stop them?  What do you think?

Once at the airport, everyone jumps out of the car looking at us.  I have to politely explain that I got the body bags up to the car, it is now their job to haul them from the car into the ticket counter.  Each takes their own bag, leaving me with 4 communal bags - including my own body bag.  Sigh.

At the counter, hubby is trying to check us in, the kids are jumping the suitcases.  My oldest decides that he wants to "help" Daddy and check us in for the flight.  There are wrong buttons pressed, arguments on how many bags, arguments on who is sitting where.  Meanwhile I am getting evil looks by the TSA agents waiting for our bags, because a. they are heavy as shit, and b. there are a lot of them and c. someone is going to have to security search them which includes hauling the body bags through X-ray.

The kids push each other through security screening, not to mention the TSA guy pulling a smashed clementine out of my husband's briefcase with my child saying, "Hey, I was saving that for later!"  They push each other down the jetway, push each other as they walk to their seats on the plane.

Once on the flight, the kids are excited and cannot sit still, they are moving the seats up and down, which means Jeff and I have no leg room because for some reason the kids got the choice seats and we got the ones that come with a can opener when you try to get out.  One child is pressing all the buttons on the other child's TV screen because this is the first plane that has personal TVs and how cool is that in a child's world.  Rather how cool is that, in anyone's world, I'm pretty enthralled too, not noticing what the kids are doing until someone presses the flight attendant button above my husband's head.  He is reaching between the seats trying to grab someone while the flight attendant asks him what he wants. I thought he was going to say, "Please move me away from these obnoxious kids, who's kids are they anyway?"  But he smiles and apologizes, reaching between the seat for anyone once she walks away.

Needless to say when traveling with children, the annoyance of everything they do is increased with the stress of trying to get from point A to Point B.  So if you travel with your children, here's a few pointers:

Travel light - in our case we couldn't due to snow sports, the less you have to haul around the better your back will feel.
Don't give them any of your electronics - because sitting on the airplane is not the time to find out they changed your ringtone on your phone to "I'm Sexy and I Know It."  (Picture my sweet hubby's face on that one)
And try to set your seats at least 3 rows behind them, that way you are not hit in the knees when they "test" how far the seat goes back and you can look at others on the plane and say, "For Pete's Sake, who's kids are those?"

Remember, traveling with children is like childbirth.  You'll forget all about it once your finally make it back home again, planning that next trip until your phone starts to sing, "I Like Big Butts And I Cannot Lie" on your next call.

Not your Normal Kind of Vacation

Our last day begins with a purpose to totally fry what you have left because -

this is it.

Snow season is done.

Go big or go home.

Not to mention Joss Christensen and Sage Kotsenburg both Olympic Gold Medalists from Socchi were signing autographs.  Nothing like meeting them making you want to take it to the next level.

Enter our expert ski instructor - Annebritt Birkeland.

She's been my Internet friend for quite some time now, a kindred spirit who enjoys telling the same raunchy jokes I like to tell, along with the few "Be who you are" type posts.  We planned on meeting face to face, and I was hoping for a little "ski talk" from her too.

I was talking about taking one of the kids up to Jupiter Bowl, and part of our day included an incredible fresh powder run along the bowl, giving up a look at what they were thinking about getting themselves into.  Yes, looking straight up at the cliffs, and all the trees, I was very glad that all three kids lost interest early this morning when they hit the park,  just looking up at the pitch made my sphincter dilate and I wasn't even skiing it.

The children sensing that it was the last day, circled both of us like indians on the wagon train.  Before we knew it, each had a T-shirt, one  had a hoodie, and we even purchased a new set of bindings.  Sure it helped that everything was 40-70% off, making the hubby a little less irritated.  It did now help when the one child said, "I could get new bindings if you and Mommy didn't have to buy all that beer."

I learned that I leaned too far back when I ski, and was working some serious moguls by the end of the day, my legs giving up finally at 4pm and waving the white flag.  Not to let the fun end, we invited Anna over to High West Distillery for our last night out.  Of course, the kids were free to heat up chicken fried rice in the condo.

We tasted great food, even better whiskey and got to chat rather than on Facebook messenger.  I always pride myself in surrounding myself with friends that are wide open and leaving North Carolina for the Winter to season to live in a one bedroom Yurt and teach skiing not only makes me jealous (while the kids are fighting right now) but gives me aspirations of taking what you want and going for it.

So a 10 day trip to Utah ended with a surprise friendship that will travel back and forth over the years.

To sum it up, it was a week full of surprises - not just the incredible amount of snow, but Boxes, and Bowls, and Black Diamonds and finally two bottles of the Booyhan hidden in the suitcases for when we miss Utah.

See you next year -

POW POW BOXZILLA!

Last day at Canyons resort and it was a day that covered every part of the spectrum:

Started with sunny skies while riding the gondola.
All out Blizzard at the mountain top at 11am.
Wet snow that stuck to our goggles and skis on one run.
To fresh powder on the west side of the mountain to the resort.
Finishing up with bluebird skies, live music, a fire pit and smores!

Best part of my day was Boxzilla - a collection of 12 boxes in the terrain park and a free ride event to see who:

Could make all 12 boxes.
Could do it with a trick.
Could do it without breaking anything.

Guess who jumped in right away - both boys!  Luckily, we have good coaches at Beech Mountain Resort so they were ready.

Max was right up front, pushing the big guys out of the way and getting in the most number of runs for the event.  Wolf, of course, being the almost 13 year old was holding back, but did it with finesse that made us proud.

Best moment of the day?

The MC at the event, pulled Max aside after he completed all 12 boxes, yelling up to the crowd waiting at the top of Boxzilla,

"Hey, this is Max Melang and not only is he from North Carolina, but he's 10 years old and completed the box with a grab at the end.  Are you going to let this little kid SHOW YOU UP?"

Max went down as the start of several trains of 6 or 7 riders, Wolfgang even got some guys at the top yelling, "Do it kid!  He's going to make it to the end!"

Proud Momma?  Yes!  So just to make sure they are embarrassed, I was yelling into the crowd,

"Wolfgang!  Are you warm enough?"
"Max do you need your gloves?"
"Be careful boys, DON'T HURT YOURSELF!!!"

Dork Momma?  Yes I am, and PROUD OF IT.

So they all go out t in Park City for a little shopping, I stay behind and immediately fall asleep on the couch.  Of course, there's no way into the condo and they spend the next 30 minutes texting, Find my IPhoning, Facebooking, AND calling me, trying to wake me up to let them in the condo.  I have achieved total dork mom status in locking my family out of the condo!!

Great day on the snow, one day left and everyone is already saying they are going to miss it!

Kids and Listening - WHAT?

Today we switched things up with a trip to Canyons Mountain Resort - 10 minutes away but a totally different experience.  One that included gondolas (you should have seen their faces), Orange Bubbles, and Half Pipes.

Do your children have the selective hearing disease?  The one where I tell them,

"Dad and I are skiing over off of Dreamcatcher Lift, meet us there in one hour for lunch."

1 hour later, someone is texting me, "Where are you?"

Dreamcatcher Lift.

why

Because we wanted to ski those blacks.

But what about lunch.

(heavy sigh) Come over to Dreamcatcher and we'll stop for lunch.

Sometimes it is nice to not really exist - to just relax while the rest of the family dukes it out for who was right, which way to go, why didn't we do that.  Other times it would be nice for someone to listen to me.

"We need to take Sidewinder Trail down to the Short Cut Lift to get down to the base."

They are busy arguing about Dreamcater, and Cloud 99 and every way but the one I suggested.  Of course, I was the only one to study the map realizing that there is no way over the valley except for the Short Cut lift.  I say, "Well we have to get to the Short Cut Lift to get down to the base."

They are moving into hiking to the top of another peak to pickup a run to make it to base when my youngest, maybe his brain is not so fermented on sugar as the other says, "Wait a minute, we can't get back down unless we take the Short Cut Lift here."

My jaw drops as they all say, "Wow, you're right Max.  Good job, we should take Sidewinder over to the Short Cut Lift to make it to the base of the mountain."

"Let it go, " I tell myself

It is even evident in Apres Ski, it seems that most men just don't really hear what women are saying at times, and if they did, they would thank us for it.

I watch the bartender put a cup on a base and it fills from the bottom with beer, not from a tap at the top.

"Wow, that's cool, how does it work?"

She smiled, "It has a hole in the bottom, the beer comes through there, then there is a magnet that covers it.  Controls the pour for us, we recycle the cups AND the magnets."

I look at the bottom of the cup and my finger travels to the bottom, where the magnet it, she says, "I wouldn't push that unless you want to wear your beer."

My hubby comes in and looks at his beer, "That's wierd what's this on the bottom."

Me, "It's a magnet because they fill the beer from the bottom up, don't push on it."

Does he listen to me.  As I turn, he's holding the cup up above his head, looking closely at the magnet.  I watch his finger travel slowly to the magnet at the bottom, I try to say something, but I've lost my voice (I cannot tell you why)

I watch my husband do it and douse himself with beer.  I watch other people come in and the girls were smart enough to not push on the magnet, but everyone that wore beer surprisingly was male??

Funny, that we keep trying to tell them what is smart for them, thinking that maybe one day - they will actually listen.

Nah, who's got time for that anyway.

Avalanche Charges, Bowls and Beer - Oh My!

Everyone finally woke up this morning with smiles.  I checked each child's underwear as they came out , scratching their butts for breakfast.  All smiles, and no sharting in the house.  Perhaps this will not be such a shitty day?

That is was snowing as soon as we got there - a very good sign.  You could hear the avalanche controls in the back country as we rode the lift to the top.  Today, I decided I was going to take it easy, considering the two days before were spent in some really shitty jobs.  I would be careful and not over tax what I was doing.

Hello black diamond.

So much for taking it easy, with fresh powder on the ground, I went with the rest of humanity to the hard stuff at the summit.  The boys were with me, arguing about who would get down the hill first, who would get off the list first, who would get back on the lift first.

How do I spend a day skiing by myself?

My rule of thumb is that all skiing happens from 9am until 12-1230pm.  I hit it hard from 9am until 1230p when we get our first break.  For them it is lunch, for me it is a beer.

We finish lunch then ski again until 2pm before we take our second break, for them a snack, for me it is a beer.

This time I went down McConskey bowl about 130P which changed my schedule.

After crawling out of the bottom, I realized that I was bypassing the rest of the ski schedule and going directly to the bar, and since I was alone, no one else would know the difference.  I went down to the resort and put my feet up outside, drinking a beer.


The kids, coming down after their time on the slopes were like sharks smelling blood in the water.  Mom's had a beer and that means she's a little more open to SHOPPING!

They hit the stores in the lodge as I finished my beer, coming back and pulling me into 3 different directions for "A great helmet," "An awesome hoodie," and "Some liners."  Kids have that innate sense , knowing exactly when their parents are primed enough to open the wallet.

When it goes from, "Honey, you really do not need another sweatshirt."  To...
"Wow, it's moisture wicking, and fits you perfectly and look at that sad face you are giving me," to...

SOLD!

So one helmet, one T-shirt and one hoodie later we head back to the condo, talking about charges, not just avalanche control but of the credit card ones as well.  The biggest part of our discussion was figuring out how to present the new purchases to DADDY!!

Perhaps I will live to see another day.

Another Shitty Day in Paradise

I will not get on my soap box about sickness.  If you are sick, and you know what you have is contagious - why the hell, would you go out and be around the human population?  For God's sake, stay home until you are well and people will not HATE you!


That being said, we have had a few shitty days in paradise.

Out first day on the snow was blizzard type conditions, snow sideways, and many lifts closed due to wind.  So what do we do - dress up in as many layers as possible and GO OUT anyway!

We make it until about 3pm when one of the kids looks at me and says (very seriously) "I must get to a lodge immediately."

Well, what the hell does that mean?  My mother's intuition says, "He means it, get him there immediately."

We take the lift up and made our way to the lodge, I'm thinking, "It can't be that bad."

Well, I was wrong.

My poor child, racing for the bathroom runs in, past this poor dude, holding the mop, obviously cleaning up after someone else, and proceeds to empty everything in his stomach all over the bathroom.  A trail of green colored vomit that runs across both sinks, along the floor, and all over the toilet he finally made it to.

I look at the poor kid with a mop.

His face is white.  It looks like, "what the hell, you gotta be shitting me?"  I almost say, "oh the shit is ready to hit now."

The poor child, moves from covering the sinks to covering the toilets.  As I wonder how could something affect so much so quickly?  Feeling bad, I tip the white faced guy holding a mop 20 bucks, the poor guy deserves it for having to do such a shitty job!

What do we do?  He's sitting at the Summit of the mountain hugging a trash can.

The poor child ends up in the toboggan behind ski patrol snowmobile as his only way off the mountain.

Me?  I ski down grab the car and run over to pick him up.  Side note:  Guy who comes up and says to me, "Obviously you didn't read the sigh, get you car out of this area."

Of course, full Mom kicks in.  I turn to him,  "Listen, had you stopped and asked me the situation, I could have said it was an emergency and I was waiting for kid off the snowmobile.  But no, you assumed I was here for no reason and look like the asshole you are for saying that too me.  Oh, and since I am with my vehicle, had an emergency vehicle come up to pick my nephew up, well, I could have gotten out of the way."

Lesson learned - Don't mess with a Mom, especially when she knows she's got a shitty job ahead of her.

Of course I look it up - symptoms:  extreme vomiting, fever, extreme flatulence - wait a minute, that's why there was that nasty smell in the car on the trip?

The poor child spends the night sitting on the toilet while hugging a trash can.

Next day - another one wakes up with a "Mom, I think I just sharted my pants...."

A.  How does he know the word Sharted?
B.  Why do I have a stomach ache?
C.  Oh shit, how could a child project vomit that far?

Sometimes being a Mom can be a really shitty job......

This Ain't No Black Diamond....

What a difference a day makes.  Yesterday we were with blizzard conditions and wind chills at close to zero today was bluebird skies and 6-8 inches of fresh snow!

Jeff had to work, one was down for the count on sickness, so it was the three of us hitting first trax on the ski slopes.  Funny, how getting to that fresh powder is a life long ambition of many, with the first lift rides resembling a Who Concert of who's getting off and beating all the other skiers to the fresh snow.  I totally understood as I was in full sweat from getting to the top of a run and DANGIT, someone beat me to it.

Of course, you wish for it and sometimes if pays you back.  The snow was fresh and deep and as I had my first yardsale (the process by which a skier loses every part of their equipment in an epic wipeout) I realized this was so different from my icy skiing of Beech Mountain.  After making it down my first run (out of breath) I realized that I needed a few adjustments to my technique - specifically finding the groomed runs.

I go all morning with the boys, non stop until around noon when I am ready for a break and possibly a beer.  Of course, murphy's law, my husband calls and joyfully says, "I'm here, let's RIDE!"

Dayum.

They take me up to the top of the lift.  We get off on what resembles Morodor - or the Cliffs of Doom.  The rest of the family is excited, I however am looking around thinking, "It's a beautiful view, but how do we get down?"

My hubby answers my question, "Do the Double Black Diamond Kelly, everyone says it is an easy Black Diamond."

(Did I mention that Jeff heard this in the bar before coming to meet me, did I also mention that he didnt' tell me this before he took me up the lift)

So, I love testing my limits, but my Quads already hate me at this point from skiing all day, and as I stand at the top of a ledge looking down thinking, "OK, this ain't no black diamond."

My problem at this point:

I have no way to go but down.
I have to go to the bathroom so I cannot bust it on this one.
Everyone has already gone, am I going to be shown up by a 9 year old?

Unfortunately, I am committed.

It takes me 30 minutes.  A few wipeouts, a few turns that I am not proud of (one ski, holy shit type of moves) and I make it to the bottom with a deep breath.

Oh, what?

The only way down is this second double black diamond called,  "You'll Never Survive This One Kelly."  Another 30 minutes later, I am crawling over to the lift where the rest of the family is standing there looking annoyed.

"Where were you," they say, looking amazingly rested because they've been waiting for me for 20 minutes.

"Surviving," I get out as I almost fall over into the snow.

"Well, what are we waiting for - let's get going....."

Ugh.

Sometimes Your Butt Must Say What's On Its Mind

We stepped out of the condo, walking down to the lift, ready for a day on the snow.  My butt however, had better ideas.

"Do you realize it is snowing?  And if it is snowing, then it is below freezing.  Which means I am not happy.  What?  You are still getting on the lift, didn't I explain that it is cold here, meaning it is freezing up there?"

I don't listen to it, because who listens to their butt anyway, and ride the lift up to the top of the mountain.  The kids are excited and as I ski a few runs keeping up with them, my butt starts again, "Aren't you freezing?"

I look around, there's no one there, so I can talk to my butt, "Yes, I am freezing.  But they are having a great time so I am just going to suck it up."

The wind blows again, stopping me in my skis, my butt sighs, "I give up, you're on your own.  I hope we survive this."

I stop by the trees and say out into the blowing snow and wind, "Well maybe I'm attempting to freeze my butt off, OK?"

My butt, is now having a conversation with my hands, "You tell her."

My hands, cough a little bit then whisper, "Hey.  Have you noticed that the tips of your fingers are starting to sting a little bit?"

I'm skiing down my favorite run and choose to ignore both of them.  At the bottom as I work over to the lift they start again.

"I hate to be a pain in the butt, but I don't have feeling in my first and ring finger."

"My goodness you sat again in a seat full of snow."

"Are we done yet?"

I smile at the family, hunkering down for each lift ride, telling myself that I can do it and I will because:
a.  I paid a lot of money for these lift tickets, and WILL get my money's worth.
b.  Everyone else seems fine, I'm the only one suffering.
c.  Sometimes it is not about me.

Finally after another hour to two, both my hands, my butt and my feet have decided to stop talking to me.

One of the kids leans over in the lifts, "I'm freezing, can we go down to the condo and add another layer?"

Everyone else in the groups immediately adds, "Yeah, I need my long underwear.  Why didn't I put that fleece on.  I'm afraid to move my toes."

I look at all of them thinking, "I guess if I was feeling that way everyone else was, I guess I should ahve said something sooner.

We ski down to the condo, my butt, fingers and feet saying, "I told you so."

How do you get 3 boys to a destination.....

Things that will happen when traveling with boys.  2 flights 2+ hours each.

One of my children went walking by with bulging pockets after casually passing by the hostess stand of the restaurant.  Me standing with my hands on my hips watching him empty 62 mints back in to the bowl.

Amazing what boys can do when they are excited to trash a hotel room:

One was jumping from bed to bed while I was trying to have a conversation with my hubby.

The other was in the one and only bathroom of the hotel room for a VERY long time.

A third was constantly knocking on the door trying to get the second one out of said bathroom.

So we make our 650am flight, hauling 4 ski bags (they resemble body bags) along with 3 other rolling bags, back packs and one purse.  

I always laugh watching my husband loose it when trying to control everyone checking in.  Max is doing 360's by the ticketing kiosks, Matthew is wrestling Wolfgang, and I am acting like I don't know anyone. 

Jeff hands everyone their boarding pass and within 5 seconds of giving them their boarding pass, Max has already lost his.  I just walk away while Jeff is lecturing about being responsible and taking care of your things.

We go to the club and Matthew smashes Max in the elevator, all three boys disappear into the men's room of the club for a VERY long time.  I'm mortified when I watch the cleaning lady go in behind them - she doesn't know what she is in for.

On the plane because my husband is preferred status, American offered him a complimentary drink and complimentary snacks for the family.

The boys, "Wow, we get FOOD on this FLIGHT!  I guess we didn't need to put all those mints from the hotel in our pockets to feed us."

The flight attendant, comes up to me, "MRS. MELANG, YOUR HUSBAND HAS A COMPLIMENTARY DRINK, HE SAYS YOU WANT IT.  DO YOU WANT A DRINK?"

I almost want to whisper to her, "Jeez lady, it's 730am do you have to announce to the whole plane that I get a FREE DRINK."

Oh she doesn't stop there, "WE CAN GET YOU A MIMOSA OR A BLOODY MARY WHAT TYPE OF DRINK DO YOU WANT?  WE HAVE WINE AND VODKA AND WHISKEY."

I see everyone on the plane looking at me, then they look over at the three boys and full understanding dawns on them.  I whisper to her what I want.

"OH A BLOODY MARY IT IS, JEAN CAN YOU GET MRS. MELANG A BLOODY MARY?"

And you wonder why at 7am I am drinking a bloody mary, here's why:

Oh and add SOMEONE having gas the entire one hour drive, stinking up the car.  Jeff and I went shopping and when we went to put everything in the back of the car, the boys had farted so much in the car that opening the trunk it felt like it farted in our face!

But their excitement makes all the mishaps bearable as I see them start to quiver when we drive through  the mountains and get first look at the ski resorts.  I think I am ready for this.

If I don't survive the 9 days, look for me buried underneath a snow drift-----but happy.