Skiing Stories

Porter has been taking skiing lessons this winter. He can actually ski down the hill by himself now, and it's so fun to watch him. He loves it, and it's funny to see how jazzed up he is after the lesson is over.

Last Saturday, he told us that his teacher said he didn't like him. And that it was mean. He really wanted to tell us about this, but he really didn't seem all that worked up about it. Four year olds are not the most reliable of story tellers, so I tried to get more details. The teacher said he didn't like you? Or something you did? Why did he tell you that? I think all I did was confuse him, and I didn't get a good answer.

The mama bear in me wants to go up there and find out why in the hell someone would say that to a FOUR year old. Or send Bryce to do it, as I know he is more than willing. But it seems that the more likely scenario is that Porter misunderstood. And I don't want to be a total ass of a parent, making a big stink out of nothing. I can't even imagine trying to teach a group of three and four year olds how to ski. I'm pretty sure it requires some patience, and I know that can run thin. But it breaks my heart to think about an adult being mean to my son. He's such a happy little guy. So, in the end, I guess there's not a lot we're going to do. But it's hard.

On another note, after writing yesterday about Molly's "remarkable balance," she has fallen off the kitchen table no less than six times. One of them was even this crazy, horizontal, superman-esque thing that I only caught out of the corner of my eye. But every time? She was totally fine.

Also, I have a bunch of grapefruit juice to use up if anyone has any ideas.

I'm Cooking: Chicken and Lentils (thanks Jenn!) and Brown Rice