As clichéd as
it is, I reckon that one of the many amazing things about parenthood is how
much we learn from our children, mostly when we’re trying to teach them
stuff. Sometimes it’s a gradual feeling
like a fog clearing, other times it’s like being slapped in the face with a wet
flannel, but I know that I’m a much bigger and better person than I was before
I had kids . We recently had a holiday which included a visit to the snow. We had intended to make snowmen, maybe hire a
tobggan, and just generally have a fun hour or two in the snow, with a bonus
being if one or other of us could sneak off for a run or two on the snowboard. Our last visit to the snow had been with a 6
week old baby and a two-year old - I won’t go into it but many hopes were
dashed that day. This visit was quite
different.
On arrival at the mountain our five-year old announced that she would like
to ski, followed of course by an echo from our three-year old that she was
going to ski too. There was no
dissuading them, so lift passes and equipment were obtained. And wouldn’t you know it, away they
went.
Miss Five took a little longer to
warm up due to a technical incident involving her mother cutting the
circulation to her feet by doing the boots up too tight (too many memories of
days as a wanna-be ski racer) and there was a grim period over lunch with an
almost unrecoverable melt-down from Miss Three due to mis-timing of the
provision of food. At this point the
father did comment that it looked as though it would be several years before we
would be doing this again.
However, the
afternoon was magic. They were both
away, which was just amazing to watch, and were so keen on the whole thing that
we went back again the next day. I was
surprised to find myself not in the slightest bit disappointed that the only
contact I had had with my snowboard was to lug it from the car to the snow and
back again - it was just such a buzz to watch and help the girls get the hang
of it. Miss Three did struggle with the
fact that she could not actually do every single possible part of the whole
game on her own. The fact that you
couldn’t actually ski uphill was difficult to accept, and we spent quite some
time sitting adjacent to the lift queue, watching it gradually pass us by,
while she refused all help to actually enter the queue.
This is where some serious self-reflection was
required by me. As a child we lived for
some time near the mountain, and spent a lot of time skiing. In those days it was all about maximising run
time and minimising queue time. It took
all my willpower to actually sit calmly beside the queue, doing nothing for
maybe 20 minutes, until one of my interminttent offers of help was
accepted. And why not? It was a sunny, warm day, not uncomfortable,
quite pleasant in fact. But a huge
challenge to my idea of what skiing was about.
So now I’m thinking more about all those moments when I bite the inside
of my cheek wanting to keep things moving along - maybe it’s more important to
try to relax and enjoy that moment for what it’s really about.
Spinach and Blue Cheese
Pasta
If you like blue cheese try this on your kids -
mine love it and it’s super easy.
Ingredients:
A big bunch
spinach
Chopped garlic
A packet of
pasta
Blue cheese
Light sour
cream
Parmesan
cheese to serve
Directions:
Cook a packet
of pasta according to the directions.
While it’s cooking, melt a cup of light sour cream and 100 g of blue
cheese (if you want in creamier and less strong use more sour cream) in the
microwave. Saute some chopped spinach
and garlic in a frypan. When the pasta’s
cooked mix everything together in a big bowl, then serve topped with grated
parmesan cheese.
