I'd do it again for the Greek Moonshine.

Oldest Boy (11) and Middle Boy (9) take snowboard lessons on Saturdays.  Living in Utah it's a shame not to take advantage of the proximity of the mountains and the affordable programs for kids to learn to ski or board.

I started skiing when I was 15.  I joined my high school's ski club with friends, saved my babysitting money, wore borrowed clothes, including my dad's long underwear that had a racing stripe stain, and rented skis.  My friends taught me to ski and I fell in love with it.  I skied through college but had to back-burner it when Chris and I got married.  We were livin' on luv and ski trips cost more than wiggling and giggling.  We rode bikes instead.

Chris and I take turns taking the boys to their lessons.  Toddler Child doesn't ski yet, so one of us stays home with him.  Ski school with Toddler Child is financially and emotionally expensive.  Not worth it yet.

I went with the boys last Saturday because Chris' back is still sore - technically it was his turn.  It was a beautiful day and the snow was great.

I almost always ski alone and I don't mind at all.  When I was younger I was a more aggressive skier and obviously better than I am now.  I'm still a decent skier, but not as strong and much more cautious. 

Saturday I joined a group of parents I've seen around school but don't know very well.  We skied together a bit in the morning, split-up, and agreed to meet for lunch.

After lunch a few people were heading down to some easier groomed runs, and a few others wanted to find a section of the mountain they'd noticed from a distance and described as "a beautiful, ungroomed, pure powder, wide bowl, that dumps you right into Baby Thunder" (a well-known and easy area).  They said one of the ski instructors told them how to get there.  I said it might be out of my comfort zone and beyond my abilities.  Nah, they said.  We've seen you ski.  You're good!  C'mon.  It'll be fun!  It's easy.  Our legs are shot.  We're just gonna make some turns.

I should have known better.   There were six of us.  Four of the people were Telemark skiers.  Do you know what that is?  It's a bad-ass skier who's bored with alpine skiing.  I mean, a BAD-ASS SKIER.  One of the Telemark guys was wearing an avalanche beacon.  Do you know what that is?  It's a device that helps people find you when you've been buried by an avalanche because you're skiing places normal people do not.

There was one other woman who was not on Telemark skis and she and I had skied together earlier.  I figured if she was going, with the bad-ass group, I could too.  I figured wrong.

I'll save the blow-by-blow, 90-minute, near-death, ski-trek story for fellow skiers who like to exchange war stories while we're drinking a beer some day.  The leaders of our group got lost.  We never found the "beautiful, ungroomed, pure powder, wide bowl, that ... " whatever.  We hiked and we skied, and we skated, and I fell, and I fell, and I fell, and I screamed, and I called someone's kid a "prick" and a "dickhead".  I looked and sounded like a foul-mouthed Jerry Lewis coming down the mountain.

I survived with brusied knees and sore muscles, broke-up with the bad-ass group, and headed in for the day.

As I was collecting the kids and their stuff, I ran into my "beacon in the night".  A fellow parent who doesn't ski, but was hanging out to help as needed.  He had been given a water bottle full of Greek moonshine [Tsikoudia or Tsipouro].  Really.  The man who makes the Greek moonshine [a different parent] had promised to give me some next weekend.  I can't wait.  The recipient of this week's moonshine was kind enough to pull it from his coat pocket and let me hit it... a couple of times.

Next week I'm taking my dose of courage a little earlier.

I wish it were that easy.

I try to shower right after Chris leaves for work and school with the older boys, but before Toddler Child gets out of bed.  Sometimes I don't make it.  If Toddler Child gets up before I've showered, I either have to let him take a shower with me [doable but not ideal], or make sure he's happy and distracted while I shower quickly with the door open, trying to finish before he notices and wants to join me.

Chris and the two older boys left this morning, happy it was Friday.  Toddler Child was awake and content.  I quickly showered while he watched television.

I was finished with my shower, in the bathroom, running a comb through my wet hair.

Toddler Child enters the bathroom, looks at my bare rear, smacks one of my butt cheeks with his little hand and says, "I gotta pop those balloons."

No more watering dead plants. Unless they're really nice to me.

So far the best New Year's resolution post I've read is titled Crooked Road by Kyran Pittman of Notes to Self.  Every word of her piece resonates with me.  If you haven't discovered Kyran's blog and want to read someone who uses language precisely, beautifully and with wit and charm, she's your woman.

I have some lofty "goals and intentions" as Kyran puts it, but I choose to keep them private.  Not because I fear accountability, I'm fairly disciplined, but because I prefer to avoid judgment.  I do have a goal that Chris is encouraging me to refine...

Chris and I were cleaning out the office a few days ago.  I've always been good at triage.  I can quickly look at piles and tasks, prioritize, plan and execute.  Boom.  Done. [Dad's so proud when I talk like that.]

Occasionally in my haste lightning speed, the wrong things have been tossed or I've purged items that Chris and the boys look for later.  Not a treasure, but something they wish was around a little longer.  I'm usually forgiven and life moves forward with everyone recognizing there are those less fortunate who have benefited from the article of clothing or toy that has been sitting unused in our home for too long.

Once, 20 YEARS AGO, I accidentally placed in the garbage... a check for $1,000.  It was a bonus check for Chris and it seemed like millions of dollars to us.  My defense?  It was folded no less than 32 times and was the size of half a postage stamp, resting with old receipts and gum wrappers on Chris' side of the dresser.  I was cleaning and assumed it was a scrap.  Who folds a LIVE check into a teeny, tiny square?  Regardless, my bad.  His company cut him another check because his new wife did something *cute*.

A few days ago, I accidentally placed in the garbage... stock options.  Signed and notarized, which I noticed as I was shredding it into bits.  My defense?  We have so many multiple copies of the same important documents, and I thought it was a copy.  Again, my bad.  Not *cute*.

As I was thinking about my triage abilities - what I keep, what I toss - I thought about relationships in my life.  It's rare that I completely close a door on a relationship, even one that's been hurtful and exhausting. I realized with Chris' help that I have a tendency to "water dead plants".  Chris' words.  I don't think that's all bad, but I believe I need to shift a bit.

One of my 2009 goals and intentions:  Slow down a little, assess my piles and relationships, keep and nurture what is worthwhile, ( e.g., live checks, stock options, healthy, loving people who actually like me) and discard or slowly pull back from what is not (e.g., real garbage, unused clothes and toys, people who don't like me and I finally recognize that I annoy - like the cleaning person).

Our three boys have been discussing New Year's resolutions and have decided upon an ambitious goal...