I wake up early, fumbling around in the half-light of dawn to turn off my alarm. Stepping over my daughters, who are sleeping on the floor, I pull on my thermals and ski socks, and tiptoe downstairs to start the coffee. My dad is already outside, scraping off the car and loading up our skis in the bitter morning air. When he comes in, we take our steaming cups of coffee to the living room, where we’ll sit in front of the fire, watching the snowfall steadily outside on the mountainside. “It should be good today,” my dad says as he begins to collect his helmet and goggles. My children and their dad come sleepily downstairs as we finish pulling our bulky ski boots on. I promise to meet my girls by the lodge in a few hours, where they’ll rent unbelievably tiny skis and join us for a while …