Field Hockey Is Comin’ ‘Round Again…

FieldHockey_IMG_1600 copy cMany, many, many, many (well, you get the point) years ago, I played field hockey. It was a new sport to me and all of my teammates in high school. At the time, my high school was a new one. In fact, my senior class would be the first four-year graduating class of the school. That was back in 1980.

I discovered field hockey in my Freshman year. I had just been cut from the junior varsity softball team and I was bummed…and relieved at the same time. I mean, the only reason I tried out and played at all was because my best friend and several other friends played. I knew I wasn’t good at it. I hated it when it was my turn at bat. I had visions of being hit by a wild pitch every time I stepped up to the plate. On defense, I always chose the outfield. I hoped and prayed the ball would never come near me. And when it did? I’d start praying even harder and asking myself, what the heck am I doing here?

So, the cut was a blessing in disguise. As I walked away from the softball field and headed to the upper field, I spied several girls holding sticks and balls in the distance. I was curious. I stopped to watch a little and the coach approached me. She asked if I wanted to try it out. Since I had nothing else to do, I said, “Sure.” She showed me a few basics and I was off and running. Literally. She said I was a natural. I didn’t believe her. I thought she was just saying that to be encouraging…but it did motivate me.

I had so much fun playing field hockey that year. And the very next year, I made the all-CIF sectional First Team (all stars). It was an honorary thing and an awesome feeling. I learned a lot from being part of a team, competing together, striving to be the best. Losing games motivated us; winning games fueled us. Eventually, we won the CIF section title in my senior year – the biggest championship for our sport back then. Playing field hockey was such a major part of my high school life. It helped define my place as an athlete during those uncertain young adult years. When I graduated and hung up my stick and cleats, field hockey  would be a fond memory from my high school years.

But then there was college. My high school coach played at San Diego State University. She knew that many schools offered athletic scholarships. She made phone calls and made sure coaches came to watch our team play, including the Stanford coach. Coach Barb had already given out her scholarships for the coming Freshman year but she encouraged me to walk on and she would see what she could do. Guess field hockey wasn’t over for me as I’d originally thought.

Playing a sport in college is hard, particularly without an athletic scholarship. Balancing time between studies, classes, practices, and traveling for games was a struggle for me. I worked part-time as part of my financial aid package and I was ready to quit field hockey in my sophomore year, though I’d made the Varsity team that year. I was very sad but it would be a relief. I convinced myself I was done playing. I could focus all of my time on studying. Getting my degree was the reason I was there anyway. But my coach didn’t agree. She offered me a scholarship for my final two years there. I wouldn’t have to work anymore. Oh. Hmm. Guess I wasn’t done playing just yet.

By the time my senior year rolled around, I was definitely done. I was tired. During the last game of my college career, I was hobbling on the field. I’d hurt my back and developed shin splints in the previous game. The trainer could find nothing wrong with my back but we treated it, along with my shin splints. I was not 100% by the next and final game. I was in pain. Mentally and physically, I was done. I never wanted to pick up another field hockey stick again. And I didn’t…until now. Or more accurately, last December…28 years later.

Last December, I got it into my head that I’d like to show my daughters the sport that I used to play. They’re 9 years old and have been playing soccer, tennis, volleyball, street hockey (in school), and lots of other sports. My daughters have been curious about “Mommy’s sport.” I haven’t been physically active since they were born largely because of the pain I developed from hip dysplasia. Most of the learning and playing of sports has been with my husband. Two years ago, I had both of my hips replaced. Last year, I had arthroscopic surgery on my knee. Finally, I’m ready to get back to my once athletic self…and show my girls a few things.

They thought it was fun but they needed more instruction to really get into it…and probably just as importantly, friends that played. I found a couple of local field hockey camps this past summer. One daughter was able to attend both. The other had time for only one. They LOVED it! They met several other girls that play and/or were learning to play. They were the youngest. Most were middle school and high school ages. But since my girls are tall for their age, they weren’t small at all. And their natural athleticism kept them right in the mix with the bigger, older kids.

Once again, field hockey has become a part of my life. I admit that the reason I’m engaging in it again is mainly because of my daughters. While one has found that soccer is her sport (she plays competitive soccer and is quite good at it), the other has announced that she believes that field hockey just may be her sport. [I should add that AL has confided in me in the past, that she was feeling a bit down because she felt like everyone in our family had a sport (e.g., Pappa has tennis and basketball, her sister has soccer, I had field hockey and tennis) and she had yet to figure out her own sport that she loved to play…and was really good at.] And since she has decided that field hockey is that sport, I will do everything I can to make sure she has a chance to play. At 9 years old, it’s not as easy as signing her up for a class through the local town recreational organizations.

FieldHockey_CollageSo I find myself volunteering to see if I can get field hockey into my daughters’ school’s SPARK P.E. program. I’m working with a local high school coach to see if I can obtain field hockey sticks for the program. I’m inviting her friends to try out field hockey when they can at any practices that come up. I got both of my girls memberships in the USA Field Hockey Association, and signed them up for the new Fall field hockey season spearheaded by the local Stryker field hockey club (for which they are members of as well). And at some point, I’m going to have to bone up on the rules of the game since I played back in the 80’s.

I have to laugh at myself, though. I truly thought that field hockey was a thing of my past. Fondly remembered but over and done. And…I guess not.

Original post to It’s Never Easy But It’s Always Fun blog by Mommytwingirls.

Here I Go Again…Kickstart With A Triathlon

Seem kinda drastic? Yea, it probably does. Kinda crazy? Yea, that too, probably. But I knew it was the only thing that could motivate me right back into the pool…more than once a month. And it has…just like it did over 15 years ago when I registered for a sprint triathlon.

In my younger, single days, just before I met my husband, I did a couple of sprint triathlons. It was the beginning of a bucket list of sorts. There were things I wanted to try simply because they were there…and I hadn’t tried them yet. Besides, I knew that when it came to running and biking, my interest span was very, very short. I used to love biking. Did a couple of centuries, in fact. And learned to not enjoy biking as much as I did. I always hated running – the means to an end. That is, I ran because I had to get in shape for this or that sport. But running for the sake of running? Nope, not me. Though I knew that I wanted to run a marathon someday (and I did so, many years later), I didn’t have that inner love of running that “real” runners seem to have. Running has always and continues to be a means to an end for me. And now with my new hips…I have a medical reason not to (yea!). And swimming? Well, I’m getting to that….

So, the sprint triathlons. I really, really enjoyed them 15 years ago. Except for the swims. My youthful mentality said, how hard could swimming 1/2 mile really be? I knew how to swim. I just needed to build yardage. So, I bought a book on doing triathlons. I followed the workouts outlined in there. I did as the book said I would – I survived the swim. Survived being the operative word, of course. I was very slow and I knew it. I just wanted to finish it and get on with the legs I knew how to do. Later, someone suggested taking a masters swimming class – I was too intimidated. So, I bought a book on swimming techniques and worked on some of the drills in there. While the book helped my confidence, it didn’t really help my technique largely because I didn’t understand most of what they were saying. Catch up drill? Fingertip drag? Huh? Swimming has its own lingo and it’s one of those sports that requires someone to watch and teach you. But before I could really get into swimming, my interest in triathlons died away. It was a new thing then. I tried it. I had fun. But I had no desire to continue. The time required to train for a triathlon was waaaaaaaaaaaaay too much in my opinion. But it did one big thing for me then…it got me going again. Physically.

As much as I hated running, I was motivated to do some 5k’s and 10k’s. Just to do them. I was even motivated to do some duathlons, though I never did. But I did enjoy biking again and went on long rides. And swimming? Well, it stayed in the back of my mind as something I needed to really learn how to do. Several years later, my curiosity had gotten the best of me – what if I took a swim class and had someone critique and change my technique to swim more efficiently? Hmmm… So, I swallowed my fear and my pride and joined a Masters swim class.  I was happy to find out that the Masters swim coach was amazing – friendly, supportive and an ex-nationally ranked swimmer. He broke down my stroke, changed my technique, gave me some drills, pushed me to complete the masters swim workouts and completely changed my attitude about swimming. Yes, I could indeed do a 3,500 yard swim workout…and survive…and enjoy it.

So, this is where I find myself today. Last year, I replaced both of my hips. Now, I’m ready to challenge myself again. To pick up where my active mentality left off. With a little help from a couple of friends of mine who are going to do the run and bike portions, I signed up for the Silicon Valley Sprint Triathlon on June 23rd. Pounding on my hips and plantar fasciitis prevent me from doing the run part of this upcoming sprint triathlon (or any other triathlon) and I can’t say that I’m bummed about that. Likewise, my interest in doing this triathlon was really focused on getting back in the pool. So, I’m happy to have another friend do the bike route.

Just like 15 years ago, I may or may not get hooked on triathlons. But I’ve already accomplished what signing up for this triathlon was meant to do. I’m back in the pool (even in the rain) at least twice per week (if not more), taking yoga once (or twice) a week. Embarrassment or the prospect of drowning have proven far better motivators for me than the ever present need to lose weight or be healthier goals. Those goals will be attained as I train to swim in this triathlon. And that is a pretty good deal.

An original post to It’s Never Easy But It’s Always Fun blog.

More Snow Fun…

As promised…a few more photos playing in the snow (and ice!) during our winter vacation. Starting with the three little hams…enjoy!

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Did I mention how much my nephew’s skiing has improved in such a short time?

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In case you can’t read the sign:

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As we waited at Squaw Creek Lodge for our ride back to the cabin, we happened upon this gingerbread village constructed to mark the 50th anniversary of the Olympics at Squaw Valley:

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An original It’s Never Easy But It’s Always Fun blog post.

Big Breakthroughs In Swimming

Breakthroughsswimming_2Oh, we are so proud! Thanks to “T”‘s determination and recognition of the fact that “L” was simply afraid to sink…she is now a water-safe little swimmer, just like her sister. We always knew that physically, “K” and “L” are both capable of doing everything the swim instructor showed them. “K”, as usual, is just mentally a bit bolder at the prospect of any physical endeavor. Diving in [pun intended] is exactly what she does when she gets a chance. Show her once and she’ll try it out. “L”, on the other hand, adds a think-about-it phase before joining her. Sometimes, this thinking phase takes a little longer. Boldness and caution. Generally, not a bad combo to have between twin sisters but Mommy and Pappa really want the girls to be water-safe and learn how to swim.

“T” worked with “L” over a couple after-swim-school sessions (he’s such a great pappa) and as before, something finally clicked in “L”‘s mind. She realized that it really wasn’t bad to sink because – she knew how to swim underwater! And this is what “T” worked on with her (swimming underwater), making it really fun (because that’s how he always does things). He dove underwater with her just a little bit at a time…going deeper each dive…until finally, she was picking up the rings from the bottom of the pool floor. He did this several times until she was screaming to “Do it again, Pappa!”

Then, she figured out that if she followed what the instructor said, she could swim above the water. If she sank, well, that’s OK because then, she would get to swim underwater again!

Poor “K”. I saw that she was beginning to feel a bit jealous and left out. Sure, we applauded her and encouraged her just as much when she first caught on to the whole swimming and diving thing while “L” floated with a noodle (or any other flotation device). Now it was “L”‘s turn and “K” wanted to know why we weren’t clapping for her – which we were still but she was getting a little sensitive to the exuberance we showed for “L”.

It didn’t matter that I reminded her of how much we applauded her when she first started swimming and diving…or that we were still excited about how well she had improved her swimming and diving. Nope, she just noticed her sister getting a bunch of attention when previously, it was mostly on her.  [heavy sigh] She got over it, though, when “L” wanted to jump off the side of the pool and dive underwater with her…and somehow, all was well again. Whew!

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Original It’s Never Easy But It’s Always Fun blog post by MommyTwinGirls.

First Soccer (Football) Class!

Firstsoccer_3 4 years old and it’s time. Soccer (or football as T would say) is the world’s most popular sport (for kids especially) and we’ve been anticipating their introduction to the sport. So far, they’ve had three Saturday classes and they’ve had a ball (no pun intended). Screaming, laughing, running, kicking – they’re totally into everything about this class. Whew!

And I gotta say…it’s all about the coach (or coaches). Coach Scott is awesome! We couldn’t have asked for a better first coach for our girls. Encouraging, energetic, firm and just an all-around funny guy, the girls follow his every word. We *love* it – and so do our girls!

At the very first meeting, he talked about fun and the philosophy behind kidslovesoccer.com. At this age, it’s about making sure the kids want to play and want to come back for more. It’s about no pressure, just fun. And he totally meant it. T and I were cracking up listening to him talk to the kids…and us. We had a lot of fun watching their first soccer class…and doubly impressed when L was sent off the field for a few minutes.

Fun is great but you can still go too far in the joking around department. It’s just one of those things we’re teaching our kids at this age – when the playing around has stopped and it’s time to settle down and listen. In this instant, all the kids had just finished racing to the huddle. Giggling, L threw her ball at the coach while he was talking. I could see that he admonished her for doing so while he was trying to teach the kids the next drill. The very next second, however, she picked up the ball that belonged to the kid standing next to her and threw it away. That got coach’s attention immediately and he gestured to the opposite side of the field. L trudged to where he pointed, alone.

My immediate reaction was Yes! I saw her throw the kid’s ball away and I wanted to run over there to tell her, “No! You don’t just grab someone else’s ball and throw it away. That’s mean.” Actually, I first wanted to run over there and reprimand her for throwing her ball at the coach when he was trying to speak. But I was too far away. And I was somewhat relieved and thoroughly impressed that the coach handled it quickly and with little fuss. An assistant coach walked over to L while she sat alone and spoke with her. After a few more seconds, she was allowed to join the group again. Her lesson learned, she jumped right into the next footrace, heeding the coach’s instructions.

And this is our new Saturday routine – 30 minutes of soccer in the afternoon, a little playtime at the playground and ice cream – a 4-year-old’s perfect ending to a thoroughly entertaining afternoon. (BTW, L has red socks and K has pink socks – thanks to T’s foresight, we’re able to tell who is who from across the field.)

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Original It’s Never Easy But It’s Always Fun blog post by MommyTwinGirls.

Week 2 – First Swim Lessons

Week2swim In case you’re wondering (after reading my last post on this subject)…yesterday was another proud day for Pappa and me at our girls’ swim lesson. What a difference a weekend could make! I was so worried about L not wanting to get into the pool for week 2 of her swim session. We really want our girls to want to learn to swim.

On the drive over to the club from preschool, both girls seemed excited to go swimming. I got them ready to hop into the pool a good 10 minutes before class so they requested a little playtime in the wading pool. I let them, hoping any fear would be worked out before the teacher showed up. When it was time for class, both eagerly ran (Ugh! I keep telling them not to do that!) to the big pool.

K is starting to frighten me. Now that she is comfortable in the deeper water, her lack of fear is tempting her to jump right in without anyone to catch her. L was just as eager and quickly moved next to the pool as well. There was no hesitation on K’s part to push off the underwater platform into a prone position, kicking her legs, head skimming the surface of the water. L tried as well but didn’t quite get her feet out from underneath her torso. Each looked over to me for encouragement and validation after every “move.” I was quite effusive in my applause for all the “tricks” they accomplished.

Then, the moment of truth arrived. L had to go potty. They had been in the pool for 5 minutes. This was the chance she’d taken in the previous two classes to plead her way out of the rest of the lesson. I led her to the restroom while K continued with the lesson. L mumbled something about not wanting to go back into the pool.

“But Mommy has been so proud of you swimming in the water. You are learning to swim so well,” I replied. “Mommy loves watching you swim, babygirl.”
“Oh, OK, Mommy,” L said.

I left it at that while she finished. I didn’t push it. I didn’t want to say anything that might make her change her mind. She didn’t. As soon as I got her suit back on, she ran (ugh, that running again!) back to the pool. Yay!!

Pappa showed up a couple minutes later. A broad grin spread across his face as he saw both our girls in the pool. Of course, L and K noticed and stopped what they were doing and waved. They certainly love their Pappa. I mentioned to him that I had just taken L to the potty and back to the pool. He was thoroughly impressed…and relieved. We laughed and applauded. A proud Mommy and Pappa for sure.  [Crossing our fingers for the rest of the week.]

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Original It’s Never Easy But It’s Always Fun blog post by MommyTwinGirls.

First Swim Lessons

Firstswimlessons Turning 4 years old has kinda opened the floodgates, as the saying goes. In T’s and my minds, they’re old enough to start certain sports this Summer (oh, I guess it’s still Spring). This will be their second week of their 2-week MWF swim session and (cross your fingers), it will go better than last week. Not that last week was that bad. In fact, both L and K got into the water each day last week for…uh…varying amounts of time.

I was a little nervous the first day. I’m never sure how the girls are going to react. T and I have gotten them in the deep end of the pool, splashing their heads underwater, several times. But in a class situation with an instructor…well, you just never know.

Let’s just say, it was a very proud day for Mommy and Pappa. L was quite enthusiastic, happily doing everything the instructor asked. She even put her head underwater when the teacher asked. To be honest, I was more worried about L than K because L seems to be more cautious than K at any new physical endeavor. Though L left the pool to hit the potty 5 minutes before the class officially ended, I was relieved and proud. I needn’t have worried.

K was a little more hesitant in putting her head underwater but she did it and the other activities the instructor led. After class, K insisted on going to the smaller wading pool. It was a bit chilly, so I couldn’t believe she wanted to be in the water longer than necessary. But I let her as she was quite persistent.  Turns out she wanted to conquer her fear of putting her head underwater. She sat down in the deepest part of the wading pool and dunked her own head underwater several times. Then, she attempted to stretch her body out like the instructor showed her, while dunking her head. When she decided she was done, she got out of the pool to get dressed. Boy did my heart swell at her determination and success.

On Wednesday, it was a completely different situation. There was a different instructor for Wednesday and Friday. T took the girls to the pool alone as I had another engagement. K excitedly did everything the instructor asked, especially when it came to putting her head underwater. L, on the other hand, decided she was cold and scared of the deep water. Huh? What happened? She stayed in the water and begrudgingly did the exercises the teacher showed her only after extreme coaxing each time. L got out of the pool to hit the potty 5 minutes before class ended. She did everything, though with far less enthusiasm than Monday. Well, we would wait and see what happens on Friday.

Friday was worse – for L. Again, I was not there. K was totally into the entire experience, laughing and giggling. L decided she was cold and scared of the deep water. After only 2 minutes of being in the pool, she hysterically cried and screamed to get out of the pool. She told Pappa she just wanted to watch K. Perplexed would be an understatement. T tried bribery the parental motivation program we instituted this last winter when we wanted her to ice skate (worked beautifully). It didn’t work. He didn’t force the issue. We would figure this out later and take them to the pool during the weekend.

On Saturday, we took them to the pool again, this time just for fun and play. K grabbed several noodles, held them underneath her torso, laid her body straight out, kicked her feet, dipped her head underwater and pretended to swim (as she saw the older kids doing). Eventually, she insisted on doing this in the big pool.

L wanted to play in the wading pool much longer. We let her play without any pushing. Eventually by herself, she sat in the deepest part of the baby pool and dipped her head underwater. She worked herself into a prone position, body straight out, while dipping her head underwater. Finally, she did exactly as K had done with the noodles. After a little coaxing, she joined Pappa and K in the big pool. Her independence asserted itself as she insisted on nobody touching her as she kicked and pretended to swim with several noodles keeping her afloat. Whew! She did all of this in her own time at her own pace.

So, we talked about this afternoon’s swimming lesson this morning at breakfast. Both L and K acted very excited about the prospect. I added a little encouragement by promising apple cake *and* ice cream after dinner if they do well at swimming lessons today. Both screamed at the idea. Here’s hoping.

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Original It’s Never Easy But It’s Always Fun blog post by MommyTwinGirls.

A New Sunday Routine

Sundayroutine_3 Once again, it’s all about the girls. At 9:15 AM on Sunday morning, L and K are already running around the big red mat at The Little Gym. Of course, this means that they *and I* had been up at least an hour earlier, dressing into the usual uniform of gym t-shirts and shorts, grabbing a quick breakfast, brushing our teeth and rushing out the door to make it to class on time. And for the first class this session, we were a whole 10 minutes early! Definitely a first for me and my twin tornadoes.

And this is all me. 8:00 am on a Sunday morning is an unholy hour, as the saying goes, for T. It’s a time that he prefers to be unconscious. I believe it’s physically impossible for him to be awake at that hour on a Sunday morning…unless we’re in the mountains and skiing is the only thing on the agenda for the day. It’s the only time his internal alarm clock ever works.

Luckily for our collective sanity, one of us is an early riser. I hate to imagine what our home would look like if the girls were left to their own devices early weekend mornings. Judging by the amount of energy they expend in that gymnastics class, it’s safe to say that our home would not be the same.

Original It’s Never Easy, But It’s Always Fun blog post by MommyTwinGirls.

Milestone In The Snow

Snowwagon_4 Martin Luther King weekend 2008 – the girls’ first downhill ski lesson at almost 4 years old.

I don’t want to go!” Clinging to our legs, tears streaming down her cheeks, K begged for us to stay. L ran past the counter-high gate but returned just as quickly when she realized her sister wasn’t coming.

Come on, L. You be the big sister and hold K’s hand,” I encouraged L. K pulled her hand away and L looked at us. L didn’t quite know what to do. I know what she was thinking. If we gave into K and let her leave with us, L didn’t want to be left behind.

You know, she’s going to stop crying once we’re out of sight,” T whispered to me. He recognized the crying for what it was. It wasn’t a “I don’t want to ski” cry. It was a “I don’t want you to go” cry.

So I maneuvered my way out of K’s arms. L was already standing by T. I slipped out the double glass doors. T made sure they were both inside the gate before he hurried out as well. The instructors locked the front doors. We stood outside out of sight for a few minutes. L joined K’s cries for a minute and then silence. We knew it. We just had to get out of there. We’ve played this scene out a few times before now (e.g., first days at preschool, first days at Kids Club, etc.).

Snowflakes Ski School at Tahoe Donner Ski Resort has an excellent reputation. They have a large staff trained in working with small children. So, no doubts that the girls would be in good hands. They just had to get over the tearful first dropoff process.

After about ½ hour, we headed over to the little Magic Carpet lift and ski hill. The girls got to ride with the class in a little wagon pulled by a snowmobile up to the hill. Camera ready, camcorder set, we documented this momentous event. We knew they were having fun when they waved at us shouting, “Hi Mommy! Hi Pappa!” then promptly ignored us as they stepped onto the Magic Carpet lift.

L and K did grrrrrrrrrrrreat in their first ever downhill ski lesson [if I do say so myself]. They quickly picked up the pizza technique (aka snowplow for us old timers) but they chose not to practice it much when they realized it slowed them down Ha ha ha  You see, they’ve been cross-country skiing several times and have already encountered hills like this. Pappa taught them to bend their knees and go. To have to point their ski tips inward to slow down didn’t really make sense. I mean, we’d been telling them these lessons would be FUN FUN FUN ‘cause they were going to learn to go FAST FAST FAST. So why were the instructors showing them how to slow down?

After a couple runs, K didn’t bother waiting for the instructors to help her. She pointed her skis straight down the hill and let them run. Giggling and waving at us on the side, she sped down the hill. Soon, L joined K, not waiting for the instructors either, giggling as she took off.

On the side, we applauded their daring. I guess it’s no wonder they didn’t listen to the instructors once they got going. T knew what he was talking about – it was an easier transition from cross-country to downhill skiing. The girls just proved it.

At pickup, the instructors said they’re ready for Level 2 or Level 3 in the school. A proud Pappa and Mommy moment for sure.

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Original It’s Never Easy, But It’s Always Fun blog post by MommyTwinGirls.

“Keepin’ Up With The Olsens”

Keepin_up_with_olsens Sometimes I fear for our little girls. Oftentimes, I am very proud of what they’ve accomplished. Sometimes I doubt whether we should be pushing them to do some of the things they’re doing now. But hey, these are our only children and how the heck are we to know what their limitations are until we push them…just a little…here and there.

What I’m referring to is the fact that at 3 years old, our girls are x-country skiing, ice skating and about to take their first downhill ski lesson. They were a mere 11 months old when they first stood on skis; 21 months old when they took their first steps on skis with a helping hand; 34 months old when we strapped on their x-country skis and they took off without any encouragement or help from us. This is their fourth season on x-country skis and outside of putting their skis on their feet and their poles in hand, they’re on their own.

My husband is Norwegian and his mindset is quite different from mine when it comes to life in wintertime. Snow is a fact of life and playing outside whether it’s freezing or not is the norm. They have a saying, “There is no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes,” meaning if you’re cold, you’re not wearing the right clothes. Moreover, the rationale behind our girls on skis at 11 months old – “If you can stand [in shoes], you can stand on skis. There’s no difference.” I guess that’s true too, if you’re standing still. My husband is a first-generation Norwegian. He is still a citizen and his entire family lives there.

Me? I’m a Filipino who spent most of her life in California, growing up in San Diego. Winter meant rain and well, that’s about it. I spent my formative years in Idaho Falls, Idaho, 3rd thru 8th grades. For my parents though, forget that “bad clothes” idea – what are you doing outside? It’s freezing out there and the only real way to stay warm is to stay inside…with the heater on…and a fire in the fireplace. It shouldn’t surprise you that I didn’t learn how to ski until I was in my 30’s.

As for our girls, my husband’s childhood will serve as our guide in what they’re going to learn and do…in the snow. Additionally, there are 9 cousins in Norway, many around the same age, likely learning the sorts of things my husband learned in his youth. So, if they’re all x-country skiing now, there is no reason our girls shouldn’t be as well. In fact, my husband has pictures of himself skiing to their family cabin in the mountains at the tender age of 2.5 years. His mother confirms the story. This was born out of necessity though. The parking lot for the cabins on that mountain sits 3 Km away from the family cabin. Making their children ski was necessary for my in-laws’ physical well-being, I’m sure.

Though we don’t live in the snow, we’re only a few hours away. Close enough for us to visit whenever we have a free weekend. And often enough, that our girls won’t fall behind their cousins in all things winter-like.

Original It’s Never Easy, But It’s Always Fun blog post by MommyTwinGirls.