Sage Signs For More

Speaking of which, those gorgeous blue eyes of hers are here to stay! Her mousy blond hair is past her shoulders and although I clipped her some bangs to keep the strands from getting glued to her snot nose in the mornings, they have grown past her nose again. She can point to most all the parts of her body, she still loves baths and when we watch “So You Think You Can Dance,” she actually drops to the floor and tried to breakdance. I promise to video this soon so you can all chuckle with us. It’s too cute. She’s also learning to jump up and down. She does great in her crib but only gets one foot off at a time when she’s on the ground. She occasionally gets them both airborn but when she lands, she falls. Tomorrow I bet she gets it. Her words are coming along and it sure helps that she knows sign. Otherwise, it would be hard to figure out whether she wanted the book or the ball, juice or shoes, cracker, cookie or cheese. It’s so much easier to communicate with her. But I forget how important it is to teach everyone else the signs too. My mom whined when she spent the day with her in Mammoth. She laughed and scolded me because Sage signed to her all day long and she couldn’t understand a single word or figure out what Sage wanted. Oh the poor things!

So now at 21 months, Sage can say (and sign) More, Ball, Book, Please, Cheese, Da-EE, Mama, Juice, Food, Shoes. She can sign- shirt, pants, bath, hug, baby, boy, yes, thank you, diaper, poop, toes, dirty, water, cracker, cookie, dog, sleep, pacifier, milk, up, down, and I’m sure there are some I missed.
When we read Goodnight Moon, she points to the pictures in the book as I say them- Goodnight Cow jumping over the moon, goodnight brush, goodnight stars. I ask her where the balloon is and she puts her finger on the image. I have no idea if she’s smarter than the average toddler but it’s so thrilling to see what was once a lump, interacting and responding like a little human being.
Tenaya is her protector. If she’s not sleeping at the side of my bed, she’s curled up at the baby’s door. Must be those scraps she snags from the highchair at mealtime. Only takes a few snips of bacon to know who your best friend should be.
Well, I best hit the hay if I want to have any energy for the slushfest tomorrow. The forecast stated 60 degrees and sunny in the mountains! Toodles.

Sage is seven weeks old. Boy, time flies when you’re changing diapers and nursing. Everyone has asked me that universal question: How are you doing? I’m fine …and probably better than most new moms from what those who have seen me say.
I don’t feel quite rested 24/7 but I do get some sleep and although my tummy is too soft for my liking, I don’t feel fat.
Knowing that I was never a kid person and lived quite the selfish life, you’ll be pleased to know that I still get around, still go to movies and out to dinner, still have tons of fun and Sage is a dream child 80 percent of the time. Yes, there is the occasional hour or night when she’s a female Damian but for the most part I couldn’t be luckier or happier. She sleeps long enough for me to get 30 minutes in on my stairstepper, to do laundry, eat breakfast, respond to email and complete a 12-hour roadtrip to Yosemite. We got back last night from the national park and the poor thing didn’t scream once from being strapped to a carseat for what seemed like an eternity. She wailed only when she wanted my boob and we would either feed her the bottle or make a ‘nurse’ stop.
I’m starting to exercise again. I was such a slacker the last few months. We climbed two days in Yosemite and I have a Stroller Strides class in Salt Lake City tomorrow morning. All I can say is that motherhood isn’t as bad as everyone has made it out to be. It hasn’t changed my life so completely yet that I have any regrets or feel like I’ve “lost myself.” I tell people that having a child is like having 12 puppies. You’re busier than you ever wanted to be but she is so adorable it makes up for any inconvenience. And all I want to do is hold her so I guess it’s my own fault I’m getting nothing else done these days.


Sage’s first campfire






For more photos click :http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/pcskigal/album?.dir=/fc4bscd&.src=ph&.tok=phGFimFBigIPPt7k

I got my wish. The snow fell, and fell, and fell. Finally, we’ve gotten a break and I can start sleeping again. One more hevay snow warning until tomorrow but the sun and hot temps are predicted for the rest of the week. Over the last 2.5 weeks we the Cottonwoods have received about 13 feet of snow bringing base depths to more than 200 inches at most resorts. So why would I leave a perfectly epic powder week in Utah for Jackson Hole where they have half the base we do?

You might think it was all about the pineapple jalapeno margaritas and the après-ski scene at the Mangy Moose. You’d be partly right. The note from Jackson Hole nearly slipped past me as I breezed through my e-mail inbox last week. There it was reporting 21 inches of new snow in 24 hours. Finally, Jackson Hole, Wyo., was getting filled in. Local reports say they’ve had the driest season in five years.
But, hey, at least they’re open- unlike Bogus Basin, Idaho, which recently closed and sent the scheduled U.S. Freestyle Championships back to Park City Mountain Resort and the Utah Olympic Park. So, we leave. Going to Jackson, however, is like running to the store for milk. It’s an easy four and a half hour drive north.
We left late and arrived in time to catch a few needed winks at my favorite ski-in, ski-out lodge, the Best Western Inn at the Village. I love the place because it’s conveniently located in Teton Village and you get parking; the TVs are huge and the sheets silky soft; they allow pets; and their Vertical bar and restaurant serves the only margarita I have ever craved – the spicy, sweet pineapple jalapeno marg. (I hear the restaurant is tops too.)
I have to be honest; we Utah skiers are waaay too spoiled. After three runs, we were complaining about the conditions at Jackson. Had we not gotten the storm that left Utah with more than three feet of untracked, unbumped powder, we would have thought the skiing at Jackson killer. But, by the time we came off Rendezvous Bowl, we had a packed powder, moguly experience. Bumps everywhere. On the bright side, Jackson has an enviable collection of ripping skiers so the bumps are in the right place.
Of course, I made the stupidest mistake you should never make before leaving home. I had someone new tune my skis. I won’t name names but since my boys Matt and Mark at the Sportsden were out for the day and I desperately needed a baseweld from the rock that snuck up and hit me on the Baldy Traverse at Snowbird, I dropped them at a shop in Park City. The problem with tuning your skis and then leaving town is that when they don’t ski right you can’t take them back to be fixed.
My edges were a mess. The shoprats must have put the skis through the grinder after sharpening the edges because I had the grindpattern in the metal. Thank the planners for putting one of the best repair shops around- Bridger Sports- right at the base of the resort. Jason did a quick re-grind and hand file and I was back out loving my Head Mojos. He also recommended a few secret spots that might spice up our Jackson ski experience. So long as you have beacon, shovel, and probe you’re good to go past any of the backcountry gates.
We headed for the Upper Rock Springs gate and were immediately skiing untracked powder. If it weren’t for the 200 or so ski tour operators in town for the SkiTops convention, we might have found a Jackson Hole Mountain Guide to glide with but instead we were on our own, and soon standing above a shot they call Spacewalk. And it has that name for a reason. After about seven turns down a steep couloir through tracked up, fluffy crud, we peered over a 20-foot rock with no way around it. Mandatory air. I looked at Ryan. “You go first,” I said nervously.
It was big for me. Ryan mentioned something about trying to walk through the ice on the side, I said no way, then he backed up a couple of steps and jumped. The soft landing broke his fall and he yelled, “Yeah!” My turn. “Go straight off, feet together, hands in front, steady your balance, look ahead,” I chanted to myself; and jumped. The adrenaline surged as I sailed and landed. It was soft. Wahoo! Our day was made. Time for Moose Brews and hero stories over a giant plate of nachos at the Mangy Moose followed by margs at the Vertical.
The next day we refueled at the Atrium restaurant in the Snow King Resort hotel. Their $9 buffet breakfast with all the staples completely hit the spot and allowed us to go all day without stopping for lunch. If only we had that guide. Jackson is a tremendous mountain but when it’s all skied up, you need a local’s knowledge and eyes. We wasted half our day stopping to figure out where to go to find good snow without falling off a cliff or dying in an avalanche.
We skied mostly trees on the higher runs as the warm temps had turned the lower terrain into mashed potatoes. As the day waned, runs started to fill in but not soon enough. We had a benefit dinner to attend at Nani’s Pasta House in the town of Jackson. The unique event wasn’t like other sit-down dinners. You go in like you would on any other night but the $30 tab for salad, pasta and tiramisu went to help fund The Refuge – a non-profit org that aids at-risk teens. Instead of some tough chicken and frozen veggies on china you got an Old-World plate of al dente spaghetti and veal meatsauce and met some of the kids benefiting from The Refuge as they helped serve and clear the tables.
With a stomach full of noodles, we made a quick stop at The Liquor Store for ‘real’ beer then headed into the storm. The Utah forecast was calling for multiple feet over the next few days.
Jackson’s closed now but the summer’s are even bigger with Yellowstone National Park in their backyard. For lodging and resort information call the Jackson Hole Central Reservations at 888-838-6606 or the Jackson Hole Chamber at (307) 733-3316.