Adaptive skiing for kids with disabilities: Max hits the slopes!

We've spent the holiday weekend at Keystone Resort in Colorado, a great place for families—especially ones with kids who have special needs, because there is an awesome adaptive skiing program for kids of all abilities. It's run by the Breckenridge Outdoor Education Center, with 25 staff members and about 350 awesome volunteers. They enable everyone to ski, whether independently mobile or not, and have worked with kids with various needs—cerebral palsy, autism, Down syndrome, you name it. 

Max had three lessons, each with the same staffer (thank you, Chris!) and a volunteer. It took him awhile to get into it, but once he did, he was very happy—and very proud of himself. If you've skied, you know how good it feels to get into a groove. For Max, the thrill is extra-awesome because it gives him added confidence about moving his body. By the end of his lessons, he was able to turn his skis and independently walk with them on.  

Check him out! (The wobbly spots are my camera-holding challenges, not Max's.) Then come back tomorrow to see the new sport Max invented. 

There's no business like snow business

Pretty pun-tastic title there, eh?

We had a glorious time in the snow on Sunday, so much so that we booked ourselves a last-minute trip to Vermont for the weekend. We haven't been on a vacation since the Disney Cruise, so we're all really excited.



Max held his own clomping around, I was so proud of him. He's pretty steady when he walks, but the snow can throw him off-balance. Even when he fell, though, he thought it was hysterical.

Sabrina had a meltdown before we left the house; she didn't want to wear the navy blue snow bib I'd gotten for her at Target for the bargain price of $16.99. "It won't make me look beyootiful!!!" she wailed. Yes, tragic, they were out of pink.


After she finished having a tantrum, we baked cookies. Then she realized I wasn't backing off and she agreed to wear the damn snow bib.


For the first time ever, Sabrina went down the hill by herself on a saucer (we got them each a purple one). Max wasn't ready to use his yet, maybe next year.


Max literally squealed when he and Dave flew down on a sled.


Could Max look any happier?

We found a resort that offers adaptive skiing, so we'll be trying Max out on that again. He did OK last year. Sabrina pretty much whined, "I'm coooooold" her entire first time skiing. This kid could win the Olympic gold medal for whining if it were a competitive sport.

All in all, it was a wonderful day, and I can't wait for more snow fun later this week. Not psyched for more whining. Still, it's impossible to truly get upset at either one of my kids. Their cuteness saves them every single time. I'm sure you feel the same about yours!

Monday Confessional: How high are your expectations for your child?

Max, ace skier

We just got back from an amazing weekend at our friends' rural home. Saturday was frigid, around 15 degrees, but Sunday was a virtual heat wave—25 degrees!—so the kids tried skiing. The mountain we visited participates in an adaptive ski program for the disabled, Stride. Joe, a professional instructor, was on hand to give Max a private lesson. He was a total saint. A skiing saint.

On the car ride up to our friends, I started wondering whether Max would tolerate ski boots. They're clunky and heavy for adults—would he be able to handle them? Would he mind the cold? Would he keep his balance on a pair of skis? I decided that if Max would just let us put the boots on him and he stepped around in the snow for a bit, I would be content. I believe this is what's known as a defense mechanism; I set low-ish expectations, so I won't be disappointed or sad if Max doesn't achieve what we'd like him to. I never let it show. I cheer Max on and say "You can do it!" even if I am not so sure inside my head.

Max was freaked by the frenzy inside the ski lodge and wailed. When we walked over to the rental area to get him ski boots, the very sweet teen guy at the counter took a liking to Max and gave him the royal treatment. The dancing snowman perched on the counter also helped relax him (God bless those corny little gadgets). Suddenly, there was Max clomping around in boots, extremely pleased with himself. When we got him onto skis, he was a little scared. Then he started loving the feel of sliding around on the snow and giggling. He was able to keep the skis parallel, a real feat. I was ecstatic! Once again, he amazed me.


Sabrina, who I thought would love skiing, was a real grouch (see Exhibit A, above). She kept complaining the boots hurt and that she was tired, and lasted maybe a half hour. Max was out for a good hour!

In other events this weekend, Sabrina and I had a bedtime stand-off and she announced, "YOU'RE FIRED!" Where the heck did she pick that up from—Donald Trump? We also discovered this weekend that Max is a chocolate-milk fiend, he drank his body weight in it, a good thing since he's so thin and we'd like to beef him up. We're off to get him gallons of the stuff.

Tell me, do you always set the bar high for your children—or do you sometimes do the low-expectations thing?