So we're up in Copper Mountain (Colorado) for the annual Expat family Xmas retreat, and so far no real "events". (And of course, that's now jinxed.)
The Ball & Chain did his usual two day drive across the Plains, this time with the Man Child in tow. I told him to give the MC "the talk" while he was a captive audience but I've yet to follow up on whether this happened. He may have had a date a few weeks ago, (The Man Child that is, - at least I hope so) so we obviously need to discuss "things" with him. I say he "may" have had a date because when I asked him if going to the movies with a girl constituted a date, he said he didn't know. I realise that he was giving away as little as possible, but surely you need to know whether you're going on a date or not? I mean, what if one thinks it's a date and the other doesn't? How embarrassing/disappointing is that going to be? Please don't tell me I'm going to have to re-live the dreadful insecurities, unrequited crushes and crushing disappointments of my youth with my teens? Oy, oy ,oy.
Anyway, I flew with the Queenager and Little Guy the following day (we're not stupid) and the "men" picked us up at Denver airport. Miraculously, there were no hiccups other than the Queenager thinking she'd left her I-pod on the table where we'd had lunch in Chicago. I am so used to my kids walking off and leaving things that I now do a visual "sweep" whenever we move from one point to the next. Before I "de-plane" (don't you hate that word?) I am to be seen on hands and knees, scanning for anything from dot -to-dot books to cell phones. So, I knew without a doubt that we hadn't left it on the table but I could see from the fear and panic in her eyes that she had no clue where it was. Fortunately, once the contents of her carry-on bag were tipped out onto a nearby seat, she remembered it was in one of those secret zippered pockets in her ski jacket. I couldn't really get annoyed with her as I do that on a daily basis with my car keys.
So here we are on day three and I haven't been outside let alone on the slopes. The day before we left I developed a slight cough, which turned into a consumptive-sounding hack the day we travelled. I was seriously worried that they wouldn't let me on the flight. The first full day of skiing saw me in bed, asleep for about eight hours during the day. Yesterday I had no voice whatsoever, felt dizzy when I stood up and wheezed with every breath. "Could this be walking penuemonia?", I thought. Today I am up on my feet but am coughing up a lung on an hourly basis and can barely breathe. It's very high here (9,000 ft - almost 2800 metres apparently) so exerting oneself is a challenge, but I'm afrad if I go another three thousand feet up on a chairlift I might have to be brought back down with an oxygen mask on one of those strecher/guerney things. Who am I kidding? I don't even have the strength to put my boots on and walk ten feet carrying skis.
Meanwhile, Little Guy is loving ski school thank goodness. A far cry from a few years ago when we dropped him off. His little bottom lip started and he said "Mommy, I think I might cry if you stand here so I'll just go upstairs".
Break my heart why don't you?