Skiing With Triplets

From hard work to a glorious sunset run

What do you do if you love skiing, and then you have triplets? You learn how to ski with them.

Doing anything with triplets poses the challenges of big numbers.

For example, what do you do if you need to fly with three lap babies? You need a third adult.

What do you do when you need to ride a chairlift with three tots and you only have two parents? You ask random strangers or spread your arms wide and yell a lot.

I’m writing this because we succeeded. Our triplets ski with confidence, follow the alpine code rules and wipe their own skis. My message here is that it can be done.

Now, the effort required is a different story.

I’m typing this in the car.

It’s dark outside.

The dawn cannot break through the heavy snow clouds.

It’s been snowing overnight, and the winter road advisory is on, but we are going skiing.

It’s been a month since we had our first ski run of the season. It was raining and unseasonably warm, then it was a holiday concert period, closely followed by the exam period.

This is the first Sunday when all the stars align — projects are done, the semester is over, nobody is sick — and there is fresh snow. We must go.

We get up at 5:30 am to get to the hill by 9. The kitchen counter is already lined up with thermoses and containers, ready to be filled and packed. Sandwiches are wrapped and stacked in the fridge. I do as much as possible the night before — even 5:30 wake time is close to my limit.

I get a feeling of déjà vu. I’ve done this so many times.

When our little darlings were six, we signed them up for a snow school at the same ski hill.

Eight weeks in a row, I got up so early that I don’t even want to remember.

We packed breakfast, lunch, helmets, goggles, gloves, spare gloves, spare socks and even extra jackets for the drive home.

I filled my pockets with snacks and hankies. We hauled six sets of gear in and out.

We drove there in any weather so that someone else did the hard job of teaching them to ski.

As we stumbled back into the house every Sunday night, there was a pile of things to dry, clean and get ready for the next round.

This was the third year of their skiing lessons and our road to freedom.

Strategy #1 — delegate teaching to the professionals.

Of course, it looks cute when you see daddy holding hands with a tiny tike on a ski hill, while mommy is on standby and snapping pictures. Doesn’t work with three.

We started when they were four years old, booking them into their first lessons while we stayed at a local ski resort over the holidays.

The snow school was 5 minutes away, but we still had to get up at dawn. Just getting them ready in the morning was enough of a challenge.

I remember being sweaty all over and clenching my teeth by the time we were depositing them at the drop-off point.

We checked the helmets and gloves while ducking away from their skis poking into our faces.

We persuaded them that their boots are not too tight — they are meant to be this way.

We spent ages adjusting the goggles over our daughter’s glasses, but they fogged again.

We reminded them that they just went to the bathroom.

By the time professionals took our would-be skiers off our hands, we were ready to collapse. But there was no time to rest — we only had two hours to ski without them.

Too soon, we returned to retrieve three exhausted and hungry bundles.

Then there was lunch, hanging wet clothes all over our apartment, and we took turns skiing with our twelve-year-old or staying in charge of cooking, sharpening pencils, and switching DVDs.

We did it for four days. In the end, they learned basic skills, and we snatched a few hours of skiing here and there, knowing that our kids are in good hands.

Next year, we found a snow school with an afternoon program that included lunch, clowns and crafts — it was so worth the money!

Strategy #2 — find a ski resort with the most generous snow school.

In the third year, we switched the strategy and drove to a local ski hill every Sunday. After a three-hour lesson and lunch, we would ski for another hour together before heading home.

It was our turn to learn how to ski with a bunch of kids — one adult in front, one closing up the rear, picking them up and trying not to lose anybody. How do those ski instructors do it anyway? I’m still in awe.

We had to learn how to go on a chairlift with three kids without losing skis and poles. Thankfully, the lift attendants know when to slow down the chair.

We had to deal with many accidents.

We lost one ski in mid-air that luckily did not hit anyone below.

We had to pick ourselves up from a heap at the top of the lift when kids undercut us, forgetting the “go straight” rule. They would get up easily while we, tired grown-ups, struggled tangled in our skis and poles.

We repeated the rules of the alpine ski code over and over, explaining the reason behind it.

See that guy tumbling down? He was going too fast to stop.

Here, this is what happens when you hit others on the helmet with your poles.

See that ski between the rocks? Whoever dropped it had to buy new skis. I guess this is what happens when you wave your feet in the air too much.

We persevered for the sake of the big goal — to be able to enjoy skiing again.

Strategy #3 — invest early in teaching them the skills and the rules.

Skiing with children is a lot of work. It also costs money.

They grow out of equipment quickly. We would review our gear in the fall to be ready to snap the best deals at ski swaps in October.

The snow schools fill up quickly. We planned in advance and booked early to get three spots together.

Lift tickets are pricey. We researched all the discounts, free discovery passes and early bird tickets we could lay our hands on.

Strategy #4 — advance planning is the best way to save money.

At the end of every winter season, we were gloriously happy it was over. Done. Pat yourself on the back.

Yet every fall, we would start planning again. The itch would come. And the kids started asking — when are we going skiing again?

We varied our plans from season to season.

An evening season pass, a Sunday pass, another ski trip, and a holiday ski camp.

There were more stories: driving through a crazy snowstorm, getting stuck on moguls by accident, and bringing the wrong boots.

We saw all the snow wash away from our hill after a winter downpour.

We froze our butts off on an ancient iron chairlift during an agonizingly slow 15-minute ride.

Yet, we had so much fun and our skiing holidays are some of our happiest memories.

Strategy #5 — focus on having fun.

I think I skimmed over a few important points, but we are almost there.

It is no longer dark, but the sky is low, heavy and dark white. The road is barely visible.

Our muscles are itching. Our lungs are ready for the crisp fresh air.

Our teenagers are chatting happily in the back seat.

We are going skiing.

I am so grateful we can do it.

I am grateful for fresh snow.

I am so glad we didn’t give up. All that work paid off. Now it’s like skiing with your buddies, and it feels amazing.

If you have small children and wonder whether you will ever ski unburdened — I want to tell you that it’s possible. We’ve done it. I will write down a few more tips on our drive home. Now, it’s time to ski.

I write about mid-life, raising triplets, food, travelling with family, and anything else that distracts my brain from the mundane. If you are not a Medium yet, sign up with my referral link to read stories from thousands of writers.