Ski Patrol & Separation Anxiety
in Giggles on March 11, 2015
So, my sweet hubster is periodically sending me proof of life pictures of the children as they enjoy their time sliding, boarding, and tumbling down the Rockies of Colorado. I know that deep down in his heart of hearts, he is making memories of his week as a single dad trying desperately to parent three kids and successfully keep them all alive…however, this feeling might be buried very, very, very deep down by this point in the week.
Evidently Monday’s mania was not confined to only my day. The pandemonium spread westward into Colorado where it tentacled and surrounded the remaining members of my family. Monday was the kids’ first official and full day on the slopes sans ski school or instructors. Needless to say, they were PUMPED! My husband spent a great deal of time on the mountains of Colorado as a kid, and apparently snow skiing is akin to biking riding, and is a skill that one never truly forgets. The one thing he did forget is the fact that none of our three children had ever SEEN snow, let alone been strapped to a board and sent catapulting down the side of Nature’s death trap at break-neck speeds. Slight oversight.
Throughout the course of a fun-filled afternoon, he managed to lose ALL THREE KIDS. This is not simply, a gee-I-cannot-see-them-all-right-now-this-minute. No. This was frantic phone calls to the other people on the trip pleading for signs of ANY of the Louis kids…closely followed by…Please don’t mention this to my wife. I cannot make this stuff up. Thankfully, while on the phone with our dear friend Lesli, our youngest bumbled his way down the slopes tripping and skidding his way to a stop right in front of her. She reassured hubby that she did, in fact have two out of three of our kids.
That just left one.
It was about that time that Ski Patrol took off from the First Aid station at the base of the slopes in the general direction of the last known location of Ethan. Terrific. Lesli kept the two little ones safe (relatively) and Jeff began to hyperventilate. Ethan had completely wiped out after catching an “edge” left by another snowboarder and was lying in the snow waiting (patiently) for someone to come and rescue him. He wasn’t really hurt–at least not bad hurt–more scared than anything. This was Ethan’s second wipe out for the day. The first, rendered the use of his left arm fairly useless, so naturally as he was flying upside-down through the air for his next spectacular landing feat, he knew he could not land on an already taxed left arm; he therefore twisted in midair to strategically land on his right arm, effectively injuring it worse than the left. He wagered that rather than get up, and try to limp his way down the side of the mountain, he would just lay there in the snow and wait for a daring rescue. Effectively scaring the life out of his father in the process.
Ski Patrol got to him before Jeff did. Jeff found him in the first aid station wearing a new wrist brace and a sling, but otherwise unharmed. Jeff, then needed medical attention for the slight heart attack he experienced.
Not to be outdone on the home front, Ethan’s dog, Faith has been experiencing severe separation anxiety. She’s been following me around the house crying, whining, and moaning. She sits at the base of the stairs, looks forlornly up to the top of the stairs and cries for Ethan. It’s really sort of sad. I thought perhaps she would have a better day with Captain Destructo at doggie daycare rather than being left alone at home. I was wrong. Faith could not go to doggie daycare. She was behind on her vaccinations. I did not find this out until I was en route. So, while Faith sat in the front seat shaking uncontrollably (she too, hates the car), I was pleading with the vet to “doctor” Faith’s record for a one-day only pass–swearing I would bring her in THAT DAY–when the familiar sounds of hacking drifted up to me from the back of the car.
Captain Destructo was throwing up…again.
Faith ended up at school with me for the day. Captain Destructo cleaned up her own mess…she’s a bit like a self-cleaning oven. Then we ALL went to the vet in the afternoon. Ethan sent me pictures of his ghetto brace and sling, with moans and groans from my husband saying, “I thought we all agreed that we weren’t going to tell Mommy until we got home.”
Here’s hoping your day is ANXIETY free!
-Dallas