Twinkle, Twinkle litte star…”

If you don’t go to bed I’m going to lose my mind.” Or something like that. Two nights ago we were in Montana, last night we were in Huntsville, and tonight we are at my parent’s lake house on Smith Lake. She’s a bit confusticated.

Confusticate. That’s my new word. The oldest minion gave me The Hobbit for Christmas and this word was in it:

According to the dictionary it’s actually not even a real word. Sooo…awkward. Way to go, Tolkien.

Speaking of awkward…

I like to call this picture: ‘Yellow Snow’. Or maybe ‘When You Gotta Go, You Gotta Go.’ I don’t know. All I know is that three layers of long underwear plus ski pants is a lot for a seven year old. In his defense, there was an outhouse three steps away but a snow drift was blocking it.

Oooh! Speaking of confusticating:

Apparently in Whitefish, Montana businesses sometimes have to close to do full moon ceremonies. Crazy, huh. I hope fry bread was involved. Montanans make some great fry bread.

Fry Bread…

Not confusticating. Not confusticating at all. In fact, it’s flipping brilliant.

Unlike her rendition of Twinkle Twinkle.

Cuddle the Town…

Cuddle the Town…

Welcome to the lovely little town of Whitefish, Montana.

How sweet is this little city? It’s full of great local restaurants and shops and parks and people. And, oh yeah, a big ole mountain to ski on. Now I’ve seen a lot of great ski towns but here is the big difference between Whitefish and other towns. Elevation! Ya know that horrible feeling you have the first few days you are in Colorado? You can’t breathe, you get a headache – just a general crummy malaise.

Welp, in Whitefish there’s no such thing as altitude sickness. Let’s take a little look see at these other elevations of popular ski towns:

Aspen: 7,945 feet

Vail: 8, 150 feet

Breckenridge: 9, 600 feet

Oh, Breck…Your amazing crepes just aren’t worth your headaches. 

Park City: 7,000 feet

Winter Park: 8,800 feet

Snowmass: 8,104 feet

The best place to ski ever but even Snowmass has elevation issues. 


Whitefish, Montana: 3,028

Yep, three thousand twenty eight measly feet. No altitude sickness, no problem. I mean, how cool is it to be able to ski somewhere that doesn’t make you physically ill every time you visit.

 Welcome to Whitefish, indeed.

Here’s the problem though…These incredible snow ghosts that are found on Whitefish Mountain?

They’re caused by near constant fog cover. And if you’ve ever skied in the fog you know it’s not that great. I was hoping that the fog was just a December anomaly but after seeing lots of t-shirts that said things like ‘Ski the Fog’ I’m afraid it might just be there to say. So…not so great.  Oooh! Oooh! Ya know what I saw on the mountain that was great? This dude’s t-shirt:

I mean…this character is probably trying to be crass but something about this t-shirt kind of gets me. 

I would cuddle you so hard…Whitefish, I would cuddle YOU so hard!

Snow Ghosts

Snow Ghosts

Remember when I was all ‘we should move to Montana!’ Oh, how the mighty big talkers have fallen. If being in Montana in December has taught me one thing it’s that I completely lack the ability to live permanently in this state.

Y’all…it’s flippin’ freezing here. And I don’t mean ‘hmmm, it’s a little chilly out today, I should have worn a jacket.’ No, I mean ‘hmmm, it’s a little chilly out today, if I don’t get inside soon I’m going to literally FREEZE TO DEATH.’

These are called snow ghosts:

They are trees layered in snow and frost. The smaller trees curl over at the top and look like candy canes. They look like, well, they look like something you would see in a Dr Seuss book. Or something from a children’s board game.

“And then when you get to the white candy cane cane forest roll the dice and pick a card.”

It’s intensely cold and wonderful and beautiful and harsh. Maybe I’m just not used to skiing in the winter. We are spring skiing kinda people. So all this bundling and binding up is new to us. Ya know what I usually ski in? Jeans. I know it’s redneck but it’s comfortable! Now I have three layers on plus my ski pants.

We went to Glacier the first day we got here and it was lovely. And cold. Have I mentioned the cold yet?

The minions don’t mind it as much as I do. They basically have one goal while we are here and that is to wallow in the snow as much as possible.

The lake at the lodge at Whitefish is about to freeze over.

Apparently, as soon as it does they ice skate and play broom ball on it.

It’s a strange place, Montana. The sun doesn’t come up until around 8:15 each day. Can you imagine dropping kids off at school in the dark? The good news is that this causes all my late sleepers to sleep even later – which is nice on vacation.

Last night we went on a sleigh ride and honestly the less said about it the better. It was cold. And my youngest was nightmarish and the older two were horsing around and broke an expensive table. People…it was bad. Bad, bad, bad. Oooh! Oooh! And as an added bonus both sets of parents are here to watch us parent ineffectively. Well, it keeps us humble, right?

For real, Stella never hit the terrible twos and I was just starting to think that we had managed to avoid that stage. And for some reason she decided to begin acting like a…a…a dang neanderthal on this trip. She grunts, throws tantrums, cries anytime she doesn’t get her way…it’s all very troublesome. And by troublesome I mean it makes me want to pull my hair out.

Stella, age 3:

Serene and sweet

Stella, age three and three months:

True Story.

Well, at least we are in Montana.