The plan was to take you sledding while papa and I took turns skiing. At the ski rental store you explored the poles, the boots, told me to get the red ones. They had only black for my size. The parental guilt of doing something fun that yo can't share weighed heavy on us. But you were too little... or so we thought, until we asked if they had equipment for your size. The clerk said yes! The next morning three sets of skis and boots were ready to face the mountain. "The Magic Carpet" kids lift was inconveniently located at the far end of the facility, accessed through a long uphill battle. We marched on, sweating under the weight of skis, poles, coats and the little you.
We were concerned that we might turn you off of skiing, by introducing the activity too early, but you surprised us with your enthusiasm. "Let's do it again." Let's do it again." So up and down we went.
At the end of the day, as we were heading back to the car, you refused to walk, threw yourself on the ground, and ran back to the ski area.
On the way home, we stopped by a Japanese restaurant for dinner where you went to potty with papa. when you came back to the table, you told us what happened:
"I pooped in the potty. You are so proud of me. It makes you very happy. The poop came out, it fell in the water. Plop." Turning to papa, "you were so excited!" It was so big, like papa's." Your hands, showing the size of a big poop, your voice loud and excited, in a Japanese restaurant. We listened, happy.
On another subject, while putting on your socks, I pointed at your right foot, I said, "Zoe give me your right foot." Shaking your left foot you asked "is this my wrong foot?"
I love you, my moon light.
Kiss,
Mommy
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