I usually forget everything I read. I could own only 10 books and I'd probably still be surprised how each one ends. I can barely even recall what happens in Rebecca despite having read it countless times. Which means most of my pre-Louis reading was utterly pointless, and not just because it turns out I'm not such a fan of baby "tips". But one piece of advice did stick in my mind from a book called something silly like the Yummy Mummy handbook (but which turned out to be surprisingly good). It was to avoid taking your new child skiing. At all costs. Apparently all the thrills of a ski trip - the mountain peaks, the sub-zero temperatures, the eye-watering descents - aren't exactly baby friendly.
So we steered clear of the slopes. For at least a year. And this despite being a stone's throw from Colorado's top powder resort last March. But 12 months on and my anti-skiing resolve has weakened. Or, rather, melted. After all, two years ago my stomach was the size of a small mountain so I had to give skiing a miss then too. But now. Now is a different story. Okay, I'm aware that skiing has to be about the least toddler-friendly holiday. And that's if they're old enough to hit the nursery slope; even resorts that start them young balk at 20 months. (Something to do with baby bones still growing. Although surely that applies all through childhood?)
But what to do with Louis? Other parent friends bailed on a joint trip - I had hoped we could take it in turns to babysit - and funnily enough Grandma Penny didn't jump at my ultimate elegant solution: getting her to come too! So instead we're testing out a ski package that bundles a creche into the mix. I have my doubts about whether it will work out. We've never left Louis in any sort of nursery (although watch this space) so I suspect he'll have something to say if we try and abandon him all day. Especially given his low tolerance threshold for group activities: he'd had enough of the local library's storytelling session well before it had finished and started saying 'Luli home, Luli home'.
Still, given our expertise in tag-team parenting, I'm hopeful that DJ and I can at least take it in turn to hit the slopes. And contrary to some parents, my ideal holiday isn't actually one where I never see my toddler. Now all we need is for it to snow where we're going.