My daughter Lulu is a firecracker. She does everything with gusto. For example, she’s been fixated on a particular reggae song by the group Dub Inc. that I played her a while back and she’ll often wake up in the moring and immediately ask, or rather demand, that we have a dance party to that song, screaming “Nance! (dance)” until we oblige. Alternatively, when she hates something, she makes sure you know in no uncertain terms. She’s only 17 months, but “no” is already her favorite word (we’re trying to help her learn “yes” and “no thank you”).
Anyway, because she’s so strong willed (which I love), I’ve been scared to take her out skiing for fear that she won’t like it. I don’t want her to have bad associations with snow right off the bat. So each time we’ve tried to go out —a couple times this winter with her on my back—I’ve armed myself with everything I can think of to keep her happy. Key are a bag of goldfish, which I continually pop into her mouth as we’re climbing up a skin track or skiing our local hill, my phone on speaker with that reggae song pumping as loud as it will go, and the REI Timber Mountain jacket that’s kept her cozy and prevented any annoyance with the cold (note: the jacket was so popular it’s since sold out, but here’s a good substitute)
In addition to making her look awfully cute (sytle points count), the jacket is also smartly designed specifically for toddlers. A waterproof and wind-resistant shell keeps the bite out when we’re cruising groomers and thick microfleece insulation layered over a sweater and pair of pajamas was plenty for when temps dropped below freezing. All parents will know what a pain in the ass it is to get jackets on kids when they’re already wearing long sleeves. Kids don’t understand the concept of holding their sleeves, so you often end up with bunched up material in the jacket arms. REI gets around this by lining the sleeves with taffeta so that the jacket slides on smoothly. It hasn’t happened yet, but I’m sure that when she’s a little older she’ll take her jacket off at the ski area and forget where she left it. When that happens we’ll still hopefully get the jacket back because there’s a specific tag inside where we can write her name, and our phone number.
Don’t get me wrong. Even when all is well and she’s bundled and the goldfish are flowing, Lulu still only lasts for an hour or so on my back. She eventually wants to get down and explore the world on her own terms, which is great too. Or, we run up against naptime and cruise home. Toddlers will be toddlers. The plan later this winter is to get her on her own skis. I know we’ll never last a full hour when she’s out trying to figure out how to stand up and slide on these weird things attached to her feet. But I hope that with some practice, and lots of patience on my end, she’ll take to it. And then we can shred together for years to come.
