Ski week, broken wrist, and a sweet song

A few weeks ago we took our annual winter trip to Tahoe with the Chern grandparents during the kids' February break, dubbed ski week around here.

Hesitant Max was not a huge fan of all this but I'm proud of him for keeping at it. 

Grandpa Chern and his new skiing buddy...

Noah and I at the top. As his mother I kept yelling from behind for him to slow down, which largely fell on deaf ears. 

It was freezing this year, but we had a good time skiing until I slipped on ice (walking) the last day and fractured my wrist.  So I am now stuck at home with one working hand for six weeks!

In other news, Max made this sweet song for his big bro the other day...