Category Archives: Parenting

All those ski lessons are finally paying off!

When we signed Avery up for ski lessons at Fernie Alpine Resort four years ago, at age three, the day when she could ski with us anywhere on the mountain seemed a long way off. She was so little. Her skis were wee — she couldn’t even put them on by herself. And when she toppled over she was like that old lady from the medical alarm commercial: “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

She fell. A lot. The instructor did a lot of heavy lifting that day.

She fell at age three. A lot. The instructor got a workout from heavy lifting that season.

But my husband and I are avid skiers and we want our kids to get involved in “lifesports” — activities they’ll be able to partake in their whole life and also ones we can do together as a family, such as skiing, hiking and swimming. So we persevered. Every ski trip meant some lessons, rewarded with runs on the bunny hill with Mom and Dad.

Fast forward to the beginning of her fifth ski season and it’s amazing how good Avery has gotten. I just skied with her in Fernie for two full days and can honestly say we had fun (read: we did not do laps on the Deer chair). Certainly, I have had my fill of the blue run Power Trip off of the slow and freezing Elk chair, but she took me on new-to-me runs like Holo Hike, which passes through two tunnels, and I led her down new-to-her runs such as Sun Up and China Wall, two black diamond pitches in Lizard Bowl.

My girl en route to Power Trip. Again.

My girl en route to Power Trip. Again.

In fact, it warmed my heart to watch her follow an 11-year-old boy straight toward the moguls on the south side of China Wall (the middle part had been groomed flat) and then watch her link turns down the bumps without missing a beat. At age seven, kids have no fear. It’s awesome (except when they tuck it down a rather steep and narrow slope and you are the one having heart palpitations). I also felt a glow of pride when skiers riding the chairlift would turn around to watch my pink-helmeted wonder trying to catch air off of little jumps. I am one proud mama.

After skiing, we did what any tired mother-daughter duo would do: hung out by The Griz — the cardboard cut-out version, not the slopeside bar of the same name. Indeed, that’s now the only downside to carving turns with my girl: it limits the apres-ski possibilities.

She is with The Griz!

She is with The Griz!

I resolve to learn “Furbish” in 2013

Every year Christmas morning brings a parade of strange and annoying toys into our home. There are the skinny-creepy Monster High dolls (strange), whose hands and arms come off, and who have fins growing out of their legs; a Mouse Trap board game that evokes memories of childhood and will require my constant help in setting it up (it’s truly complicated = annoying); and a new book for Bennett, The Best Nest, that he will ask me to read to him 1,000 times in a row (annoying).

Meet the Furby.

Meet the Furby.

But the one gift that encompasses both these qualities — strange and annoying — has got to be Avery’s new Furby. What is a Furby, you ask? Let me acquaint you with our new unwelcome houseguest. Our purple Furby is a sort of interactive toy straight from the movie Honey, I Shrunk the Gremlin; that is to say it talks, moves a bit (not too much, thankfully), looks oddly like a gremlin-owl love child, and makes all manner of really loud squeaks and squawks that send Avery running to us to report on.

Meet the Furby's dad.

Meet the Furby’s dad.

Avery: “My Furby just said, ‘Ee-tay!’ Guess what that means.”

Me: “Hmmm … I don’t know. Maybe, ‘I’m all done playing, please put me in the closet for a week?'”

Avery: “Silly Mommy! ‘Ee-tay’ is Furbish for ‘No way!'”

Yes, I know. It's all kinda weird. There's even a Furby app.

Yes, I know. It’s all kinda weird. There’s even a Furby app.

Yes, of course her Furby speaks “Furbish,” a made-up language that sounds like what the Star Wars aliens in the Mos Eisley Cantina on Tatooine spoke before the bounty hunter blew them away: “O0-nye toh-loo wee-tee! Hahaha!” The grating noises make a tired mommy wish she had a phaser she could switch from ‘stun’ to ‘permanently silence,’ though that would make Avery bawl like Chewbacca.

Not long after Avery opened her Furby I received an e-mail from a friend whose daughter Zoe is one of Avery’s besties. The e-mail contained a picture attachment of one of Zoe’s Christmas gifts: a black Furby. By now you’ve guessed where this is going. Yes, Furby playdates will be a reality in 2013. “Ee-tay!” Yes way! Obviously the joke is on me.

Playdates with Zoe's Furby will be a reality in 2013.

Playdates with Zoe’s Furby will be a reality in 2013.

What all this has illustrated rather glaringly is that not only do I not speak Furbish, I no longer speak kid (and also, after four hours, Avery speaks better Furbish than Spanish, the second language she’s been taking for the past four months). I don’t get the appeal of the Furby, the enchanting power it has over seven-year-old girls. The Furby box sums it up nicely: “Who your Furby becomes might surprise you!” it reads. The same can be said about your children.

Consider this our family Christmas card

It’s that time of year when Christmas cards arrive in the mail from loved ones and companies you may have done business with in the past. Sometimes the cards contain a cute write-up, with pictures, detailing what said family has been up to for the past year: the triumphs, the trips and the tedious parts in between (please edit those out of future letters).

Blake and I have never sent Christmas cards (this explains why the number we receive seems to dwindle annually), but I like receiving them, with a caveat: if you’re taking the time to mail me a letter, would it kill you to write a personal note atop the picture of your cute kids? Just sayin’. (But please not too much information, unless you’re going to write the inappropriate bits.)

And now, not only am I going to show you cute photos of my kids, I’m going to write stuff too.

The Kadane-Ford family Christmas card

Lisa, Avery (age seven), Santa (ageless), Blake and Bennett (age five).

Avery (age seven), Lisa, Santa (ageless), Blake and Bennett (age five).

Dear family, friends and followers,

2012 was an interesting and exciting year for our family. We started off on the right note with a ski weekend in Fernie, B.C. that enabled us to dump the children in ski lessons/childcare and carve freshies grow closer as a family while enjoying powder snow and the great outdoors.

The only bandito we saw: don't mess with Hello Kitty!

The only bandito we saw: don’t mess with Hello Kitty!

A trip to Ixtapa, Mexico soon followed, despite warnings from friends and family that there were, possibly, banditos laying in wait to kidnap/execute us upon arrival. Fortunately, the only dangers we encountered were roaming crocodiles, stinging jellyfish, beach salesmen hawking hideous Aztec-patterned area rugs, a  wicked hangover after too many margaritas at the swim-up bar while the children were at Kids Camp, and a rogue wave that almost carried Bennett off to sea.

Hearing my little girl sing her first solo brought a tear to my eye. So proud!

Hearing my little girl sing her first solo brought a tear to my eye. So proud!

Avery, age seven, performed her first choir solo in May, singing a verse from Puff the Magic Dragon. She also enjoyed several summer camps with friends including an art camp at the Calgary Zoo where she learned about tortoises and made, like, 10 paintings of them, which I have since recycled.

It was a year of firsts for Bennett, age five. He achieved potty training success a mere week before he lost his first tooth in June. He also enjoyed his first trip to Texas to attend the Chromosome 18 Registry & Research Society’s annual conference. The highlight? “Eating guacamole.” Finally, Bennett also learned how to ski at Canada Olympic Park. He’s still working on his “pizza” stance and I worry he may plow into small toddlers on the bunny hill at New Years and we’re excited to ski together as a family.

Stopping is over-rated, right?

Stopping is over-rated, right?

We made it!

We made it!

Blake and Lisa spent the summer hiking in preparation for climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania in September to raise money for Bennett’s special needs school, Renfrew Educational Services. The climb and following safari was a life-highlight and we are currently scheming ways to escape the children in 2013 we look forward to another African adventure sometime in the future.

Finally, it was been a year of growth for all of us. Avery is reading chapter books and doing math problems, Bennett is singing Christmas carols and sounding out letters, and Blake and I have become more patient parents — it must be all those cocktails Lisa keeps mixing up for her columns!. We love our kids dearly, but are going stir-crazy trapped indoors with them so far this holiday and love being around them this time of year when they are so excited about Christmas. If we could ask Santa for anything this year it would be continued good health, lots of travel, another record snow year in Fernie and a new Christmas tree box for the kids to play in — the old one is busted. Merry Christmas and all the best in 2013!

Boxes still make the best toys.

Boxes still make the best toys.