How has a woman, a grown up of 29 years who enjoys travel and adventure NEVER been to the snow before? I’ve been having harsh words with myself for years about it and yet I still haven’t gotten my snow boots on. Not until last week anyway. I received a phone call from old friends who were visiting from interstate. From sunny QLD in fact. They invited my little family on a snowy adventure with them. I said yes, in a heartbeat. I then had to consider how I was going to do it with a newborn after that fact. I mean, how many layers do I need to put on him exactly?? Is it even safe? Am I going to give my 8 week old baby frostbite just because the little girl in me wants to finally experience the snow? Then I reminded myself that children are actually born in the snow. People have to actually live in the snow. The snow isn’t really a theme park. It’s some parents reality.
One word. Jumpsuits. Even if the hire store does only have ones a little oversized and your baby resembles the Michelin man. There is nothing cuter than a wicked little snow onesie.
I needed one for myself in hindsight. Dressing my post baby state was quite a moment. I borrowed my snow get-up although I’m not sure how I thought I would fit into and wear my besties size 8, teeny tiny wasted, snug as, snow pants comfortably. I had to use all my muscle power to get them across my waist whilst Mr Vick zipped me in. It wasn’t a one person job and admittedly it took a good 10 minutes to achieve but I didn’t mind how they looked once I had actually sewn myself in. They made my legs look a bit of alright and then I scanned upwards and found a gawd aweful muffin top falling disgracefully over the top of my ski pants. Seems I had been channelling a bit of Kath & Kim. Mr Vick seeing my face reminded me that I had just had a baby and to lay off the self harm. I promptly put my bulky snow jacket on to cover up my muffin top state and didn’t let it see the light of day again. However I am very happy to show off my brand new ear muffs.
Then of course, I had no sooner put my 6 layers of thermals and various jackets on when I was presented with the conundrum, how am I going to breast feed exactly? I got the feeling a strip show was imminent. Meh. I decided to get my snow on and deal with it when the kid was up for it.
We visited the rather unknown Mt Stirling. For those Australian snowy types, you may know it from when you’ve been to Mt Bulla. At the base you probably passed the sign to turn off to Mt Stirling. It’s the laid back, non commercial ski mountain. Not a chalet in sight (although there is some rustic looking snow camping available for the brave). Just National Park with tracks for the keen cross country skier and one small, Nanna styled café for those ski-tards like me who occasionally need to breastfeed.
Fortunately there had been a 10cm downfall the night before we arrived otherwise there would possibly have been a disappointing no show on behalf of the snow. Mt Stirling really is perfect for a young little family who don’t desire to be bowled over by zoomy skiers and who don’t want to have to dodge the other couple of hundred visitors to build a snow man. We were one of maybe 20 visitors there for the day meaning at large the snow looked untouched. Pristine.
I was never going to attempt skiing on this occasion. Not after my last lousy efforts at ice skating. However Mr Vick was all over it and gone within 20 minutes of arrival. I was happy for him to take both our share of bruises. I was ready to try something new however. Something to share with Little Vick and something guaranteed to be more oh yeah! than ouch!
Oh the fun we had. I’m pretty sure I have missed my calling in this life. Could I still make money from being a tobogganist?!?!
And whilst Mr Vick zoomed off (ok wobbled off) on his skies, he left me behind with this alternative. Snow shoes. Awkward kinda things. Although they make you grit into the snow good and sturdy they’re darn hard work. My thighs got a good going over and I managed to look entirely ridiculous.
For a moment I left the kids behind and explored some of Mt Stirlings trails with Rose, my Mummy friend. Without the little people we were able to breath, enjoy some silence and notice some little things that would have gone otherwise unnoticed. Oh it was gooooood!
And when the day was nearly over and the snow was turning all sludgy and dirty we remembered we hadn’t made a snowman with Little Vick. The one thing he’d wanted to do. I know, I know how could we not have made a snowman….? So we got out our carrot stick and gumnuts and Mr Vick and I started showing off our skills like we were the snowman making champions. Little Vick was content to believe it.
It was the best way to end our snowy day. Although no sooner did we walk away from Mr Snowman and his head toppled off and smashed. A devastating moment for Little Vick who whaled the entire way down the mountain about the death of Mr Snow. But it wouldn’t be an outing with a toddler without tears right?
Now you’re probably asking, how did the newborn go? Where was he in all of this? This is how Baby Vick saw our day at the snow:
It’s safe to say the snow won us all over and I will surely be back next year to practise my tobogganing skills….
Today I am linking up with Essentially Jess over at her IBOT link up party!