Probably the highlight of my work week was a ski trip to Trollhaugen with the 5th and 6th graders at the school. Getting ready for the trip, I was a little bit nervous. I haven't been skiing in almost 20 years, but I wasn't really nervous for myself. There were a couple of students I was a little bit concerned about, for a variety of reasons, and I was just keeping my fingers crossed that everything would go okay. It's such an independent field trip set-up, and the kids have a lot of freedom, which can be both positive and negative, so I was a little bit of a worry-wart, but excited at the same time. Anyway, Friday morning, I put on about 8 layers of clothes, stopped at Target on my way to work to pick up some snacks and an extra pair of gloves, and headed to school where buses would be boarding at 8:15. Some students were already at the school when I pulled in, and there was a degree of excitement in the air. I bundled myself up, helped get the kids loaded on the buses, and prepared myself for a long day.
When we pulled into Trollhaugen, the kids could hardly contain themselves. We all filed into the chalet, picked up our rental boots and skis, and headed out to the slopes. Considering how challenging it was for me to shove my feet into the boots, I was impressed at how quickly my students were outside, taking their required ski class. The instructors were fantastic. Every child was involved, even the ones who needed one-on-one help, and I was pleased. It took me awhile to adjust to being on skis, but once the kids got out of their class and actually got to start skiing on their own, I went with them, and that's when it really became fun for me. One of my students who avoids most things physical, and isn't terribly coordinated, came up to me and said, "Where have you been, Ms. P? I've been looking everywhere for you! Do you want to go down the hill with me?" So, I followed him to the line for the chair lift, and off we went. I've never seen myself as one to be afraid of heights, but I definitely had forgotten about how high the chair lift is, and how there aren't any bars or anything to keep me from falling off. Again, I was fairly confident in my own security, and ability to survive the chairlift without falling to my face, but I was nervous for a couple of my students who could easily be distracted by a squirrel running by, and plummet to the ground. It didn't help that the student I was riding the chairlift with found it necessary to demonstrate how to get off the chairlift, leaning forward while we were at least 20 feet above the ground. Anyway, I survived the chairlift and had a fantastic time hitting the slopes with the kids I work with every day. It was such a wonderful experience, for the students, and for me. It went better than I could've expected, and as we rode the bus home, I was exhausted but content. My kids had done so well, and I was thrilled for them. We got back to the school just in time for the students to pick up their things, and catch their buses home. When they left, I started thinking about my weekend, and what I had in store...
One of my friends had texted me at some point during the day, and we started talking about Valentine's Day. Clearly, I'm single, and quite frankly Valentine's Day has never really been my thing. I remember when I was 19 and dating someone for the first time on Valentine's Day, and I was hoping for something special that evening. I was disappointed when he went out of town with his friends, instead of celebrating with me. The next year, my boyfriend at the time came over to my place for dinner, which I was excited about, but before we even ate, he got violently ill, and had to go home. ***He passed that illness on to me, a few days later, and it was miserable. Not the best of memories for me. The following year, I was on my way back from picking up the Valentine's Day gift I'd bought, and I got into a car accident. Again...not the best memory. I think that was the day that I just said, "Forget Valentine's Day. Let's just do something on a different day every year." Ha! Honestly, I think my issue with Valentine's Day is that there are so many expectations, when you're dating someone. For guys, I imagine there's pressure to get the right gift, or make a grand romantic gesture. For me...and potentially other women... there's an external expectation that a significant other will MAKE that romantic gesture, and the day will be filled with flowers, candy, gifts, romantic meals, and PDAs. And for me...that's never really been what I wanted on Valentine's Day. Yes, it would be nice to have someone do something special for me, but for me, something special could be as simple as a card or a message telling me how they feel about me. Little things mean more to me than anything else. I'd be as happy with an evening in, a bottle of wine, and some small gesture to indicate that a man put thought into something I might like, as a night on the town, a bouquet of roses, and a fancy meal. With all of that said, though, as I talked to my friend, I realized that even though I didn't have Valentine's Day plans, that I could make some...with Charley.
I left the school after the ski trip (exhausted, and with noticeable hat hair...), and went straight to the store. I got Charley a new dress, tights, and some fancy new boots. I picked her up from school, and told her I had a surprise for her. I took her home, pulled out her new dress, and told her we were going to get ready for a fancy Mommy-Charley date. I fixed both of our hair, put on some make-up (lip gloss for Charley), and we put on fancy dresses. I stood there, looking at the two of us in the mirror, convinced that I would never forget that moment. We'd spent time together, being completely girly, and we looked like a million bucks. I slipped on a pair of high-heeled boots I'd purchased in Italy nearly a decade ago, and we headed out to dinner. After a day in ski boots, I'm not certain the heels were a great idea, but it really was fun to get all fancied up and go OUT. Dinner was great. We even ordered dessert (which we NEVER do), and then we walked around the mall for a bit. As Charley ran ahead, I watched her, smiling. As she ran back to me, after getting several yards ahead, an older man stopped me and said, "She is just adorable. I've got 4 girls, and she is just the cutest girl I've seen in years." It was very sweet. Naturally, I think she's the most adorable girl in the world, but I think what made her stand out last night was the fact that she was all dressed up and SO happy. She was glowing. I was drained by the time we got home, but it was totally worth it and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. 
No comments:
Post a Comment