I knew the time would come when Margot surpassed me in ability to do something, but I didn't know it would come so soon. I am truly humbled. It only took her five years. On our recent trip to Jackson, WY, she became a full-fledged skier. She went from this:
(Ski school on the bunny hill with her instructor)
(Getting on a chair lift)
(Riding a chair lift - with Brodie of course - like these kids who I don't know but who asked me to take their photo)
(skiing green runs by herself)
(enjoying hot chocolate at a well-deserved apres ski break)
I couldn't be more proud of her. There isn't much that scares me in this world, but skiing has never been my thing. It leaves me feeling completely out-of-control, which my micro-managing personality just cannot stand. This all started back in high school when I broke my rented skis in half while hurtling down an icy mountain somewhere in Western Massachusetts. I'll face death on any poor transportation system in any developing country (see this post) before I'll go down a black diamond again.
Margot, on the other hand, has fully embraced the wind and the speed. She never stopped smiling while on the slopes.
She said to me, "Don't worry, mommy. It's easy. I'll teach you."
Just like I wish I could get my mother to get on an airplane and explore the world, Margot will have to wish that she could get me to be a competent skier/snowboarder.