Could A Beach Family Be A Ski Family? One Mom's Dream

  Cold is not our thing; ask anyone sick of seeing my yearly Christmas card featuring ten feet stuck firmly into 80- degree sand while gorgeous Caribbean blue water washes over our tanned toes. To challenge ourselves and diversify, we visit different islands, but make no mistake, we like warmth.  I'll take a margarita over a Baileys hot chocolate any day.  But here's the thing, I've always had a romantic vision of all of us at a ski lodge dressed in coordinating gear, swooshing down slopes and then doing the whole apres ski thing where I look rosy cheeked and incredibly fit, chic and sexy in my snow bunny outfit by the roaring fire.  In my vision we are all accomplished on the slopes, athletic, beautiful and familiar in this environment.Recently, as our kids have gotten older, we have decided to stop buying all the Christmas presents and add a family vacation over the holidays instead.  Luckily our kids (25, 22 and 18) still want to go with us, because dad is paying and we didn't raise any idiots. We don't tell them we are definitely going and we don't tell them where, but on Christmas morning, stockings filled with little hints are opened and off we go a few days later.  Last year, we went to Quebec City, a truly magical little piece of what feels like Europe but didn't ski, so this year, my plan was to head to Stowe Mountain Lodge where I was determined to bring my romantic vision to life.Christmas Morning:  "Are we making going to somewhere cold a tradition?"  "I am not going to ski and risk getting hurt."  "Wow, I was sure it was going to be the Bahamas."  "I left my boots at school."  Admittedly, these were not the comments I was hoping for when I had carefully wrapped up my little hints for their stockings.  My husband's flat out refusal to ski was the real annoyance though, as he knew full well where we were going and what I had planned.  He got the very evil eye. Already my vision of the perfect family trip was unraveling and I was still standing in my pajamas with wrapping paper covering the floor.  As for the rest of them what I really wanted to say was, "what a group of ungrateful little bastards."  Instead, I said, "Let's just get there and play it by ear. I ask for one half day of skiing from everyone and then we can all decide if we want more. We can all stay on the bunny slope."  Then, I showed them the plane tickets.  "7:38 AM.  Mom, are you freaking kidding me?"  I hate them all.We Begin:"Does that say it's going to be -9?"  "Wait, -20 on Friday?  That's not possible, that's like Alaska cold."  "I'm not leaving the lodge."  "There aren't enough layers of clothes on the planet that will keep me warm in that."  Suffice it to say that the forecast was not in my favor, but never one to give up, I purchased an entire duffle bag full of extra clothing and hauled it onto that plane with five adults, one snowboard and 7, yes 7 other bags.  While being de-iced on the runway in Newark at the ungodly hour of 7:15 am, I'll admit, my vision was getting a bit shaky.  It only got worse once we experienced what -9 actually felt like upon arrival in Burlington, when we had to leave the warmth and safety of the terminal to load into our rental Suburban.  We turned on each other within seconds.  Screaming to get the car running, to load the bags faster, to move over, to stop jamming the snowboard into the back of a head, and to locate the seat warmers was really doing some damage to my "comfortable in this environment ski family" image.  We were clearly out of our element.  I was beginning to have thoughts of heading to Miami, pronto.Arrival:Then we got there.  Beautiful.  Fireplaces, ski valets, hot chocolate, concierges, and the spa.  We would survive after all.  Once unpacked, we geared up and headed to pick up our rental equipment and hit the slopes. "It's so hot in here." "These boots are too small, I can't even get my ankle in."  "I need to take off some clothes before I suffocate, literally."  Finally, we are outside dressed with skis on and are technically a ski family.  I want to take a picture to capture my moment but I can't remember in which of the ten pockets in the four layers of tops and bottoms I'm wearing I have left my phone.  "My goggles are fogged up."  "Where are the hand warmers?"  "My snot is frozen."  "Wow, cool, my eyelashes are frozen and I can't feel my face."  "I'm not going on that lift.  I can't get down that slope.  Do you see how steep it is?"  "Don't be such a baby. Look at that kid flying down over there.  He's like five."  "Just get on the lift, it'll be fine once you are up there."  "Damn it, stop yelling at me."  "My ski fell off about a minute after I got on the lift. Tell the lift guy at the top that I dropped my ski."  "What poles?  I didn't bring them, I thought they were yours."  "Where's your ski ticket?" "I have to pee." "I don't understand how you get on the gondola with the skis."  "We look like idiots."  "I'm snowboarding over on the other side of the mountain.  I'll meet you for dinner.  Later."  Ah...my vision was blowing up in my chapped, frozen face.Apres Ski:  Ha, Ha, HaI look like a raging alcoholic; the tip of my nose is so red.  My lips are cracked and splitting.  I can't get warm.  My hair is standing up in unlikely places and matted to my head in others.  I opt to keep the hat on.  Then I get so hot, I start stripping layers, none of which are the least bit sexy or chic.  Chic and sexy gets tossed aside when it's -9.  I don't give a rat's ass what I look like so long as I'm not a Popsicle.   My socks are four inches thick and if I take them off for even a second I fear amputation due to frostbite. I assume that the dresses and heels I brought for dinners out are completely out of the question.  Haute couture up here is a wool cap, Sorel boots and a very thick jacket. But then someone says it,  "today was pretty fun. I think I want to ski some more tomorrow."  "Me too.  We figured it all out and that Toll Road run was awesome."  "Now that all the gear is set up and we know what we are doing, I'll ski again too." "It's supposed to be +20 tomorrow; downright balmy.  I'm in to ski again."  Oh my gosh I think to myself.  I've done it.  We are a ski family.  Tomorrow I must get that picture.  I'll have to put the phone in an outside pocket to have it readily available to capture the moments.  After dinner, we all played Candy Land in front of the fire.  Magic.Post Script:We skied two more days and loved it.  No one froze to death, lost any limbs or got injured in any way.  We are officially a ski family.  We even went out to dinner in that Suburban one night in -21 degrees and had a great time. I even got a few pictures.  Unfortunately, I'd have more if my phone hadn't shut down, FROZEN...But what can I say?  It's cold out there.  Next year's Christmas card?  A perfect little ski family, of course.