Hitting the Slopes, Preschooler-Style

After four years of waiting, watching, and wondering if my second son was going to show any interest at all in downhill skiing, I finally have my answer.

Yes, as long as his "Girlie" is along for the ride.

Little Bear's best friend happens to be the daughter of our good and faithful friends, a nice thing all the way around, especially if the two buddies carry out their future plans to get married (someday, "as soon as we can drink coffee").

Yesterday we all piled into the cars and drove onto the grounds of Elmendorf Air Force Base (it pays to have friends in the military), and onto Hillberg Ski Area, a lovely complex designed to meet the needs of winter-loving Alaskan military families. There we outfitted the littlest skiers with gear and proceeded to the Bunny Hill.

I am happy to report that a good time was had by all, the weather was absolutely gorgeous, and nobody had any meltdowns on the hill. Apres ski was a different matter, but that's beside the point.

After schussing down the slight incline and trying out the rope tow, Bear had enough and went sledding with dad on the adjacent hill, giving me a chance to freeski with the older kids.

Afterwards, we gathered together to share a pre-St. Patrick's Day dinner; corned beef, cabbage, the works. And some darned good beer that must have been brewed just for a day like this...

Update From the Wolf Den: Dad

No, the other Dad. Bio-dad, natural-dad, whatever the term is these days. At any rate, Wolf's father surprised us a few weeks ago with a phone call and a pledge to fly to CHYC in order to visit his son.

Three years had passed since Wolf had seen his father. That last visit was shortly before our arrival in Alaska, when we stopped over in Issaquah, WA to spend Christmas with my parents. In an interesting twist of irony, my former husband and his family live but a block away from my folks. We had purchased that home shortly before our separation in 1995.

Wolf's dad has been, and I guess is continuing to, work in the world of civilian contracting in Iraq and now Afghanistan. A new contract putting him in some remote area of Afghan territory meant a flight out last week and a six-month stint away from the U.S. So he decided to visit Wolf, perhaps with some "should'as" eating away at him. Or not.

I recognized on one hand that this visit, with the anxiety, pressure, and emotions involved could be frought with peril, knowing how Wolf seems to handle such things. But on the other, I also knew how important such a visit could be to Wolf's sense of reality. After not seeing his father, and, in fact, rarely having any contact with the man other than perhaps a once-a-year phone call and rare mail, Wolf had built up an image in his mind. He needed to see dad in the flesh to prove that he really existed, I think.

Staff at CHYC were understandably as concerned as I; how does one go about arranging visitation with someone who has shown no effort to be involved in the first place? Would he be safe? (I really didn't know) Would Wolf have an anxiety attack and become unglued? (The possibility existed) Would he even show up at all? (It's happened before) A plan was developed and implemented, boundaries were established and held.

For myself, I think this was the truest test of letting go. There is no greater potential source of anxiety in my life than the lack of relationship between my former husband and me, and our son. I usually can forget it exists when he is overseas. Even the lack of financial support gives me fewer reasons to have any contact with him. Yet here was this man about to visit and I could do nothing about it. Nothing. Nada.

I prayed a lot. I let things fall into greater hands with confidence.

And, all went well.

We Jingled All the Way

Here is this week's AKontheGO post; we enjoyed our sleigh ride with Horse Trekkin Alaska.

Visit the link and you can see a few more pictures of our fun afternoon.

There is a Case for Doing Less

I always know when I am doing too much, because I wake up in the middle of the night thinking of all the stuff going on the next day; which, of course, I cannot do with my usual 100% energy level because I am so tired from staying up all night worrying about it....

After a busy weekend of dogs, horses, children, and other assorted family members, Bear and I spent yesterday in our fleece PJ's, recovering. The snow was falling outside most of the day and I needed to regroup. Bear needed to catch up on his playing, he told me, so I unpacked the wooden trains and tracks, set him up in the family room, and left him to his important work.

I was able to thoroughly cover my office floor with information from three different Special Event Guides I am currently engrossed in. The most deadline-critical is for the Native Youth Olympics (due next Monday, and received only last Wednesday), the second is for the Kachemak Bay Seafest, a spiffy little festival in Homer, our favorite town, and the third is for, get this, the World Beard and Moustache Championships, to be held right here in Anchorage this May, in case you wanted to make those plane reservations now.

My biggest worry is that I will mix them all up and write a Guide touting the adventures of Bearded Youth Jumping After Seals Down in Homer.

I'd really be in trouble then, wouldn't I?

Anyway, here are is a cute photo of the three of us on our latest family outing with Horse Trekkin' Alaska. Good old Steve, the owner, gave us a great ride and made cheese fondue and moose chili to boot. Bear, as you can see, was a little concerned about the big Percheron, Sid, but they eventually became friends. You can read more about it at the AKontheGO Web site tomorrow, I hope. See links to the right. (See how lazy I am?).

Iditarod 2009 Mushing On

As soon as I sort through the 1,100 photos taken during yesterday's Ceremonial start of the 37th Iditarod Sled Dog race, I will post some.

Interesting that we have as many pictures as miles in the race.

It's Spring Somewhere

I'm sure of it. After three years in Alaska, I am savvy enough to realize that March and its "spring break" calendar, does not exactly match up to the actual weather.
As much as I would love to see a flower or two sprouting from the frozen tundra we call yard, we still can appreciate a fresh dumping of snow.

Yukon's sister and brother-in-law are visiting to witness the start of the Iditarod Sled Dog race this weekend, so more white stuff is favorable, not less. We've been watching the snow fall all day, much to Sister's delight.

Apparently the local bears are following the true calendar as well. Over the past few days a scrawny bear has been roaming the local ski and sled dog trails, leaving big prints in the snow. Occasionally bears will wake up, wander around a while, and then re-den until spring really appears. This is our version of Puxataunny Phil. If he sees snow, he goes back in and winter lasts for six more weeks, or months, depending upon the year.

To take advantage of the snowy day, we packed up and returned to our favorite sledding hill. The dog enjoyed the outing as well, skijoring for a bit before watching Bear and Yukon slip down the bumpy hill. He had a hard time when the guys went down the hill without him, however, and was most anxious to jump in Yukon's lap when they came back up for a breather.

When Mommies Work From Home...

I left my office for a minute to heat up my coffee. Obviously I missed the worst of a battle that somehow managed to converge upon my desk.

I hope nobody was hurt...