The Real Reasons We Will Never Take a Family Ski Trip (And, No, You Can’t Change My Mind)

It’s mid-January, and due to snow and ice and germs, my kids have not had a full week of school since December 15^th. I am done. Done Done.

But, even so, I recently caught myself looking at pictures of other family ski vacations on social media. Doesn’t that look fun? They all look so sporty and cold. And, in my mind, I easily picture myself in chair by the fire in the lodge reading a book. So, I actually started looking up ski vacations. And, you know what I learned? They are expensive! They involve a lot of stuff! (We don’t even own snow gloves or snow boots – and we do actually live in the part of South Carolina that sees a few inches of snow each year.) 

So while I was pondering the logistics of a family ski trip, God sent us a winter storm that was enough to convince me that my family is never going to be the one that goes on an annual ski vacation.

Snow Is Just Always Better in Pictures Than in Real Life

Let’s just be honest here. For some people, the snow is always better when you are looking at it from inside. Such as my whole family. The kids woke up excited to see the snow-covered yard and couldn’t wait to get outside.

Until we did. Then, we were shocked to discover it is cold. Very cold. And if you don’t have the right gloves or boots, the cold goes right into your bones. And, all those pictures of snowmen and snowball fights? I think that is fake news. Do you know how hard it is to make that fluffy powdery stuff stick together? Much harder than it looks! Sandcastles are easier.

But, it sure looks pretty when you are sitting by the fire looking at it through the window until someone opens the door and everyone starts yelling, “Close the door! Have you lost your mind? It’s freezing out there!”

We are Not That Coordinated

Only my nearest and dearest know this about me, but now is the time to own up to my own fears of skiing. Once upon a time (when I was in 8^th grade on a youth group trip to New York), I was in a small skiing accident and ended up on a sled stretcher.

What had happened was: My two girlfriends and I decided we had mastered the lower part of the bunny slope on our first time skiing (ever), so we decided to follow the cute boy from New York (of course) to the higher part of the bunny slope. I was fast. Probably because I only weighed 90 pounds. But still, I was fast. But, I was also (am also) not coordinated.

Somehow, someway, I ended up flying and flipping through the air and landing on my face. Kind strangers stopped to put their poles around me and call for help. Just a scrap up on my face, a teensy bit of blood on the snow, and my flair for drama…and that’s how I ended up going down the mountain on a sled stretcher.

Note: This is NOT me, but I wanted you to have a visual. 

***Another Note: It was right after this youth group trip that parents started having to sign waivers. HAHAHAHA. You're welcome.***

I hate to say this, but given that the night before our snow arrived this week my daughter tripped and busted her lip and chipped a tooth, I *think* she may have inherited my lack of coordination. 

Add in the fact that my husband hurt his back over Christmas at Toddler Time at the indoor trampoline place, and I am thinking extreme sporting is not a good fit for our family.

So, where before my dreams of a family ski vacation involved my husband and kids skiing while I drank hot chocolate by the fire, now more realistically involve nightmares of broken bones.

My Kids Get Over It a Little Too Quickly

Back to this week. The snow is lovely. It really really is. Until you get out in it. Had my daughter not been screaming and crying about how cold and wet and white the snow was, I might have enjoyed it more. But, she liked it for about five minutes.

We tried to get her to sled and it was a torture fest. 

My mom joined in on the fun, but she was also a tad dramatic.

And, my son did enjoy it…for about thirty minutes. Then, he declared it was too cold and the fun was over.

I gave up and took everyone back inside. Hours later, my dad arrived home and I asked the kids if they wanted to play in the snow with Papa. I got a stern “No” from both kids.

The next morning, I asked if they wanted to play in the snow before their dad went to work. Again, I got a stern, “No.”

Their brief thirty-minute snow play in our four inches was enough to last them until next winter.

So, no, I will not be paying an extravagant amount of money on a family ski trip for my kids to sit indoors or cry outdoors when they do those things at home on a daily basis. I am just not that tough.

And, my word, I can’t imagine all the stuff we’d have to pack!