A good friend in the US with ties to France always jokes with me about “ski week”. All French children have 2 weeks off in Feburay during which a portion of the French population descends upon the various ski stations. Since he is childless, and not French, whenever he comes to snowboard in the alps he always checks with me when the famous “ski weeks” are as to not come then.
We pulled Lily out of preschool for a week in the alps (I know, bad parents!).
We spent a lot of time talking about ski school (we signed her up for morning lessons all week), and she was really looking forward to it.
Saturday morning we packed the car, loaded up the girls, the dog, and took off. I knew something was a bit off with the littlest because she was really quiet and docile the whole ride. We made it to the alps, met my brother-in-law and his girlfriend, grocery shopped at the bottom of the mountain, and drove up to the place we rented. We unpacked, ate dinner, put everyone to bed. Sunday, my youngest still wasn’t up to snuff, and by Sunday evening I knew first thing, I was taking her to the Doctor on Monday.
Long story short… We ended up heading down the mountain on Monday evening, in an ambulance, and we spent a rather long 3 days in the hospital while she recovered from what ended up being… pneumonia!
Maman Bonne 