» exceeding expectations
I've forgotten what recently prompted me to start asking Bjorn if he was a "tough guy" but I was always skeptical of his quick and unequivical "yes" reply, sometimes uttered through tears caused by having to put his winter boots on. As we headed "up north" for Bjorn's first winter vacation, we had low expectations about his ability to be happy outside for more than 5 minutes, let alone with awkward skis strapped to his feet, zooming down a hill with cold wind in his face.

On this vacation, he must have been on a mission to prove his manliness because he spent a lot of time outside and gave no indication that the cold bothered him at all, even the unrelenting wind coming off Lake Michigan on a snowy winter day.

When we arrived up north there was fresh snow stuck to everything and lots of deer in the woods (must have seen at least 50).

We didn't have much daylight left after we drove up so we just checked out the Point Betsie Lighthouse.

This was Bjorn's first encounter with a cold, snowy, and windy Lake Michigan beach and he did not seem the least bit phased by it.

Really, his only problem was that he had to wear mittens which meant he could not pick up rocks to throw into the lake.

That night, Bjorn was pretty happy to be in a new place watching his new favorite movie (Rio).

The next morning we hiked to Empire Bluffs. Bjorn rode in a sled until I let him get a little out of control going down hill and he face planted in the snow.

Then he decided walking was preferable.

Even in the snow drifts.

At the bluffs.

Megan & Bjorn at the final viewpoint.

Jumping on the benches.

We ran into a nice older couple who took our picture and said they took their kids on this hike when they were younger. Bjorn had exchanged car horn honks with them in the parking lot when he made his way up to the driver's seat while we were getting ready.

Heading back.

Bjorn and Megan far below.

Rolling in the snow.

Still going.

He eventually reached a state where he didn't want to walk or be pulled in the sled so we had to carry him, but what well respected Mount Everest climber hasn't been heavily aided by sherpas?

Slipping and sliding.

Two entered the wind strewn beach.

But only one would stay.

Following in my footsteps.

No other beachgoers today? Hmmmm.

Breaking thin ice.

Sliding on the ice.

The grizzled face of a two year old.

We floated sticks down the creek, threw rocks into Lake Michigan, and stomped on ice, but the highlight was this Coast Guard helicopter that flew overhead.

He doesn't have giant hands but these mittens actually stay on.

Beach wandering.

Tuckered out.

While Bjorn napped, I went for a hike to Pyramid Point.

Awake and on his way to try skiing for the first time.

I expected that we would have to strap the boots and skis on his feet as he fought us and cried "don't like it! don't like it!".

Then I would drag his shoulderless, spaghetti-legged body down the hill against his will as his tears started forming icicles on his face. A gust of wind would brush across his cheeks causing his screams elevate even further, instantly summoning a swarm of CPS agents who would carry Bjorn off to a more nurturing foster family.

Wait, he's not crying?

So much for expectations.

This may even have been better than playing with trains.

Our first chairlift ride was actually disasterous because Bjorn's skis would fall off at the slightest touch. We lost one while getting on the lift and the other halfway up the hill. I think everyone must have thought Bjorn was a total show off to be skiing on one ski for his first time down the slope.

Bjorn's feet don't hang down very far, but he is there.

Ready to go, both skis this time.

So one unique thing about Megan's home state is that you can go from surfing at the beach in the morning to skiing in the mountains in the afternoon. In Michigan, you can almost ski right onto the beach. R U jealous California? If so, you're not realizing how cold that beach is.

Skiing into the sunset.

Bjorn wonders if it's a crime to look this good in ski boots.

Practicing for the double black diamonds.

Ready to go again the next day.

He did not want to let go of his skis.

Myself added for scale.

Bjorn was fascinated with all of the machines at the ski hill: chairlifts, rope tows, magic carpets, and snowmobiles.

Do you think Mitt Romney is right that the "trees are just at the right height" in Michigan? Because I often find myself wishing that the state hadn't been clearcut back in the 1800's so the trees would be more gigantic now.

Although, I must admit that historical photos of the lumberjacks are pretty awesome.

Bjorn walks like a robot and skis like someone twice his age.

The back side of the ski hill from Glen Arbor beach as we sat parked at a boat launch, eating a quick breakfast snack before making our trip back home.