For the last four years, we have been going to a great little town in western Maryland called Deep Creek Lake. Friends of ours own a lake cabin there, and they rent it out to friends when they are not using it. It just so happens that we’ve gone there for the last four Presidents Day weekends. This weekend usually falls around our wedding anniversary, and it is the last long weekend of the winter. And I just now realized that, interestingly enough, every single one of those four Presidents Day trips included Cole. The very first one—in February 2007—I was already pregnant with Cole, but we simply didn’t know it yet. We don’t have any pictures from that first year, but I have very vivid memories of parts of that trip—the many inches of snow that came down while we were there, taking Jon cross-country skiing and, my favorite memory, going sledding in the evening on the hilly road right near the cabin.
In 2008, it was our first overnight trip as a family of four. Jon and Daddy went snow tubing while Cole and I hung out at the lodge. I remember laying Cole down on the table in the lodge, letting him stretch and coo. It was sunny, so I bought him the littlest sunglasses they had. He was mostly content in the Baby Bjorn inside my coat.
In 2008, it was our first overnight trip as a family of four. Jon and Daddy went snow tubing while Cole and I hung out at the lodge. I remember laying Cole down on the table in the lodge, letting him stretch and coo. It was sunny, so I bought him the littlest sunglasses they had. He was mostly content in the Baby Bjorn inside my coat.
In 2009, we came to DCL with our friends and neighbors.
There was snow tubing, sledding, snowman building and a Valentine’s Day we will never forget. After picking up our cars that were parked at the overflow parking at the top of the mountain, we headed back to the cabin, but the falling wet snow turned to ice when hitting the pavement. Because of you Daddy’s brilliance, we pulled over right before we headed down the hill, and we sat there, watching dozens of cars slowly slide into each other on a steep part of the road. We eventually had to leave the car and hike back to the upper lodge, with Daddy and Jeff trying to close the road in order to stop other cars from heading down the hill. Thankfully, we were all dressed for the weather, and we used the sleds to pull the boys where possible. Eventually, someone gave the moms and the children a ride to the lodge, which was about a mile away. We waited there until the road was treated and crashed cars towed. We then headed home, and right before the turnoff from the main road, there was another ice-related road closure. We sat in the McDonalds parking lot for close to an hour (or more?) until the road was reopened. When we finally reached the neighborhood, we realized that the steep hill going into the neighborhood was too icy to try. Daddy and Jeff flagged a snow plow to ask him to plow and sand the hill. He promised to return within 20 minutes, but didn’t. We finally decided to try the hill on our own, and slowly but surely, we made it to the bottom. Who was behind us? The snow plow. So six hours after we tried to leave the mountain, we were finally home. The story could end here, but it doesn’t. The next day, on our way to dinner, we saw a huge fire in what looked like a barn. No fire trucks were in sight, so we assumed it was a controlled fire. On the way back from dinner, however, the road was once again blocked by the fire engines, so despite being only half a mile away from the main highway, we had to turn around and take a 15-mile detour in the dark.
This year, 2010, was not without adventure, though none as spectacular as in 2009. This year, the snow was a big factor again.
And yet, this year, it didn’t seem quite as much of a special treat because a week before the trip, DC got hit with the record amount of snow. But, boys, you loved it.
The snow was deep, so very deep, and yet Jon pushed through it without complaining.
Cole did get frustrated at times because he could not follow in his brother’s footsteps.
Jon took his very first snow sport lesson—snowboarding. He loved it and was completely fearless.
Cole got his first ski experience—Daddy and I took him cross country skiing, just like we did with Jon three years ago. He, too, was fearless and unfazed by having two wooden planks strapped to his feet. Afterwards, he said “I luuuuff skiing”—but when Daddy asked if he wanted to go again, he quickly said, “No.”
A year from now, both of you, boys, will be able to take skiing or snowboarding classes, and Daddy and I are excited both to see you learn new skills and to have an opportunity for the two of us to do some skiing ourselves.
Perhaps my favorite memory of this weekend was the one-on-one time I spent with you, Jon, in the afternoon of our last full day at DCL. While Cole was napping, we went outside to test out our new sled. We sledded down the same hill we used three years ago. We played hide and seek behind huge snow banks. We built a two-room house, which was really just two circles that we tamped down the snow, with untouched snow serving as high “walls” of the house. It was overcast and bitterly windy most of the day, with snow on and off. As we laid down “to relax” in our snow house, there were still clouds in the sky, and you commented on how fast they were moving. We lay there, looking up, and suddenly, the sky was completely clear. Within a few minutes, there was not a cloud in sight. The sun was heading toward the lake, giving the pure white snow a golden pink glow. It was suddenly so still and so peaceful. I looked at your face, with your hazel eyes and long eyelashes and a few tiny freckles that appeared out of nowhere, and prayed that I would never forget this moment. Everything about that moment was perfect. Being there, in this gorgeous place, with my amazing son, having the comfort of knowing that my other amazing son and my amazing husband were cozy and warm inside a house a few hundred feet away, seeing the clouds disappear and everything become still, I felt completely overcome by emotion—love, happiness, gratefulness. I tried to take a mental snapshot, and I hope it remains with me forever. I probably would have stayed there for an hour if my behind wasn’t so cold from lying in the snow. We played a little longer, and when it started to get dark, we headed back to the cabin, where we ate pancakes for dinner and watched the Olympics.
Cole got his first ski experience—Daddy and I took him cross country skiing, just like we did with Jon three years ago. He, too, was fearless and unfazed by having two wooden planks strapped to his feet. Afterwards, he said “I luuuuff skiing”—but when Daddy asked if he wanted to go again, he quickly said, “No.”A year from now, both of you, boys, will be able to take skiing or snowboarding classes, and Daddy and I are excited both to see you learn new skills and to have an opportunity for the two of us to do some skiing ourselves.
Perhaps my favorite memory of this weekend was the one-on-one time I spent with you, Jon, in the afternoon of our last full day at DCL. While Cole was napping, we went outside to test out our new sled. We sledded down the same hill we used three years ago. We played hide and seek behind huge snow banks. We built a two-room house, which was really just two circles that we tamped down the snow, with untouched snow serving as high “walls” of the house. It was overcast and bitterly windy most of the day, with snow on and off. As we laid down “to relax” in our snow house, there were still clouds in the sky, and you commented on how fast they were moving. We lay there, looking up, and suddenly, the sky was completely clear. Within a few minutes, there was not a cloud in sight. The sun was heading toward the lake, giving the pure white snow a golden pink glow. It was suddenly so still and so peaceful. I looked at your face, with your hazel eyes and long eyelashes and a few tiny freckles that appeared out of nowhere, and prayed that I would never forget this moment. Everything about that moment was perfect. Being there, in this gorgeous place, with my amazing son, having the comfort of knowing that my other amazing son and my amazing husband were cozy and warm inside a house a few hundred feet away, seeing the clouds disappear and everything become still, I felt completely overcome by emotion—love, happiness, gratefulness. I tried to take a mental snapshot, and I hope it remains with me forever. I probably would have stayed there for an hour if my behind wasn’t so cold from lying in the snow. We played a little longer, and when it started to get dark, we headed back to the cabin, where we ate pancakes for dinner and watched the Olympics.
The next morning, the sunrise was almost as spectacular as the sunset, and this time, we had the camera. 
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