Vail was awesome, and I'm not leaving Zeke again for a long, long time

Hi, everyone! I'm back. I missed you. Here's how my weekend went...

By the end of Thursday night, I was marveling at the lengths people will go to in order to go skiing. I took the red-eye from Honolulu to San Francisco on Wednesday night, got into San Fran at 5:45 in the morning Thursday, and then took a flight to Denver that arrived at about noon. Kathleen picked me up at the airport and we headed straight to my cousin's house because I hadn't seen them in two years and couldn't very well blow through Denver, where they live, without stopping to say hello. We had lunch and visited for a couple of hours and then went back to Kathleen's, where we loaded up the car and waited for Michele and David, who had flown in from Atlanta that morning with their three kids. They had to stop in and see David's sister and get the keys to the mountain house, so they rolled up in their big-ass Suburban at around 5 or so. We finished loading up both cars and hit the road, just as a snowstorm started to hit the mountains -- right in our path. The weather was so bad that the authorities were closing the mountain passes. We were lucky in that we managed to make it through before the routes were cut off behind us, but not so lucky that the drive wasn't a nice, hairy, white-knuckled experience (particularly for Rich and David, our trusty chauffeurs), complete with hungry children, crying children, inquisitive children, and tired adults.

But, we finally made it to Vail and the house was gorgeous (though lacking cell service, meaning I couldn't get online the entire time -- very frightening for an internet addict like me). It was a log cabin on a river right in front of the mountains, with a massive fire place and insanely comfy beds. We were well stocked with food and, most importantly, alcohol.

Our cozy fireplace

The view out the back door

The skiing on Friday was decent, but it took us awhile to get out the door and get organized, especially getting the 5 children situated in either ski school or day care, so it was late by the time we hit the slopes. Plus the light was bad -- very flat, making it difficult to see the snow. It was the Friday of spring break, meaning it was crowded. Add that to the fact that it took us awhile to get our ski legs under us, and it made for a relatively fun (it's hard not to have fun skiing) but exhausting day.

Saturday, however, was sublime. It was seriously as great a day of skiing as I've ever had. The morning scramble to get the kids delivered to their respective destinations was a million times easier and more efficient, so we were on the mountain by 10 in the morning, and amazingly, we practically had the entire place to ourselves. I guess Saturday was a travel day for most people, so the lift lines were short. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the winds were mild, the light was good, and we took run after run of wide open, smooth slopes. So, so, so much fun.

the view from the top of the slopes

I did miss my boys. But I talked to Jason every day and they were fine. Jason managed to hear Zeke when he needed to get up at night (I think he slept on the floor of Zeke's room), and they visited friends and went to the beach and watched rugby and had a grand time together. Which is wonderful for both of them.

A little too wonderful.

Because when they picked me up at the airport, I made a beeline for Zeke, and was holding him and giving him kisses when he completely lost his shit. Not just normal "waaah" crying, but hysterical, panicked, "get me away from this terrifying lady" crying, accompanied by squirming and reaching for Jason. The kind of crying that was making people look over and wonder what kind of abuse I was inflicting on this poor child.

He recovered, and when I gave him a bath and put him to bed, he was his normal, smiley self. But it took him a little while to remember who I was, which was very disconcerting. So he's stuck with me for a while...