What a busy busy week it was last week.

Even though it was a few weeks early, Bergen and I took off to celebrate his thirteenth birthday.

We had to seize our opportunity early because his birthday wish for his adventure was to go skiing. And you just can’t go skiing in the south in April. Shoot, often you can’t go skiing in the south in March. But like a little birthday miracle, not only was the ski slope open for one last week, we actually even had legitimate snow falling all around us. We drove up in the mountains north of Asheville and the snow was falling everywhere, swirling around and piling up and it felt like we had driven back into winter for our own birthday celebration.

That kid is so much fun to hang out with. Everything is a joy to him. Grateful. That’s the right word to describe the way he behaves. Thankful. He’s so happy with what he is given. I had thirteen small presents wrapped that he was allowed to periodically open over the two days we were adventuring. And with every gift, from the simple hacky sack to the silly bubbles, Bergen was always responding with joy and gratitude each time. Who doesn’t enjoy giving gifts to a person like that?

Our adventure threatened to get off to a rocky start when the surprise car rental went south quickly. I had reserved a car with Enterprise (hoping that the second time they’d get their act together after our first poor experience). It was supposed to be a truck or a small SUV. I knew we were heading into snow and mountain roads and I thought those would be good options. I was assured by the Enterprise staff on the phone that our SUV would be waiting for us. We arrived on time, reservation code in hand. After waiting forty-five minutes to even be served, the employee told us that our SUV wasn’t there. “Look, I’m sorry. I know you requested an SUV. I don’t have it,” he said. It took an awful lot of self control for me to not allow this set back at the beginning of our adventure really sour me for the whole time. I mean, what on earth? When he asked, “What can I do to make this right?” I had to laugh a little. “Um. You could have the vehicle you said you would have,” I said. In the end we drove our own car and of course it was fine. And I was grateful to have my giant SUV with its four wheel drive capabilities as we trekked up some back mountain roads for fun. (Of course, the oil sensor on the Yukon died on this trip, resulting in an unbearable beeping noise for parts of the drive. A beeping noise that you can neither silence nor turn down. It was as irritating as you would think it would be. That’s probably Enterprise’s fault too – right?)

We had so much fun together though, despite the rental fiasco. I think there will be a lot of mother son trips in our future – he and Otto are for sure more willing to travel than everyone else in our house. We stopped at whatever road side attraction caught our eye. Bought hot chocolate at Dunkin Donuts. Got out of the car to take pictures in front of a snow covered waterfall and to catch snow on the tips of our tongues. We stopped at Grandfather Mountain only to discover it was closed. Which was a bummer because we both wanted to conquer that frightening mile high suspension bridge. Of course, Berg – chipper as always – says, “Next time, no big deal, we’ll do it next time, Mom.”

We wandered aimlessly into the shops along the snowy streets of Blowing Rock. We trolled around Boone and ate noodles and stopped for donuts at The Local Lion and even hit up the thrift store because surely people in Boone donate cool clothing cast offs. (We didn’t find clothes but we did score about six great novels and a nearly brand new pair of tennis shoes for Berg’s gigantic size 10 feet for four dollars.)

There was a gem mine and neither of us had ever tried our hand at one of those. I was afraid it would be perhaps corny or too young for Berg or a rip off. And maybe for some people or at some gem mines that might be true. I just know the one we visited and it turned out to be a real highlight. We were the only guests there and we bought a big bucket a dirt (yeah, I paid for a bucket of dirt) and we sifted and washed through the bucket and joked and talked as we did and we unearthed a lot of hidden treasures. Our guide was really well versed in rocks and gems (or a swell liar) and Bergen was able to share his own knowledge, which – who knew – was pretty impressive all by itself. We walked away with some rubies and a really great lot of garnets and a lot of conversation about rocks and we traded rocks back at the hotel later that night. (In fact, now we want a rock tumbler. Anyone have suggestions on a good rock tumbler?)

We went to see a movie in the theatre (and I don’t recall when I have ever seen a movie alone with just Bergen). We laughed at the ridiculous film of Peter Rabbit. Yeah, they desecrated Beatrix Potter’s idyllic version of the bunny with a jacket but no pants and I wouldn’t take my toddler (or even my six year old probably) to this movie for sure, but my nearly thirteen year old son? Yes. We have loved Peter and his stories in their time and in their day but we still had a great time chuckling along with the British nonsense on the screen.

At the hotel we cranked up the heat because we could and we dove into our bag of snacks and I watched Berg consume more Swedish Fish than a human should. We caught up on Tree House Masters and did you know there’s a show about a cat whisperer? (Y’all. Some cats have got Problems with a capital “P” apparently.)

We were up and at ’em the next morning to head to Appalachian Ski Mountain. I piled on the layers when I saw the high was just above freezing. Berg and I got our skis and boots and poles and all those thick and cumbersome tools of the trade and made our way to the slopes. The morning was perfect as they were not too many others skiing just then so our collisions with other skiers were less likely.

After many tries and a really great attitude, it became evident that skiing was harder for Bergen than he thought it would be. We kept at it though for several more go rounds. Finally he asked if there was any way we could switch out to snowboarding for him. We went back in to see and the cost to trade out was only $8 so that seemed totally worthwhile to me. I stuck with my skis because I was mostly standing up and flying down the slopes just fine and I truly doubted my ability to remain standing on a snowboard. As soon as we got back to the slopes, we both knew the snowboard choice was the exact right one for Bergen. He had much better control and was able to enjoy himself so much more.

By the end of the day we even tried some trick slopes and a few jumps here and there. Although exhausted, the day spent wth Berg on the slopes was loads of fun. (And loads of cold too, but I survived.) He definitely wants to try again next year.

All the way home we laughed and chatted. I’m not even sure if we turned on the music once. He’s a big fan of Italian food so we tried a totally new to us Italian restaurant in Asheville on the way home. It was the perfect choice to end our adventure.