We took Sam skiing yesterday. I was a little worried that I would not remember what I was doing and Craig would be there, on the bunny slope, in the rain, trying to deal with both of us.
As it turned out, it was a gorgeous day. And I remembered how to ski.
Sam was ready to go. He didn't want to go short distances and practice turning. He kept asking to go to the top of the hill. He was driving us nuts a little bit, with being a complete noodle when Craig tried to ski with him, and falling in dramatic fashion that left the skis going every which way. Then he wanted to leave. So we got snacks.
The turning point came soon after break time. We'd taken the tow rope up to the top (Craig was completely exhausted with holding Sam up for practice runs and then supporting him on the tow rope) and Craig had tried holding Sam and skiing. They stopped, and Sam kind of moved away and took off on his own. Not the best idea because he really didn't know what he was doing, but he did finally get to feel how it felt to move. So that's how we finished out the day: setting him up, pointing him down the hill, catching up to him when he fell. Craig and I took turns at the end, one waiting at the bottom of the hill (with ski boots loosened because holy cow I forgot how uncomfortable those things are) and the other going up and coming down with Sam.
I think one of the reasons I did so well (the others being my natural athleticism and phenomenal muscle memory) was that I didn't have a lot of time to think about what I was doing. Sam was careening down the hill and I needed to catch up with him. Just turn, turn, turn, stop.
We can't wait to go again.