Going for a Saucer Sled Land Speed Record

Since we will soon be moving to the swamp, where a single snowflake could shut down the entire state, we decided to take advantage of some fun outdoor winter activities while we still can. 

We had a rough start. Silas was struggling with all of his snow gear. The snow was past his knees so just walking a few feet proved to be a challenge. I think his biggest concern was his thumb. With those huge mittens on he couldn't get to it. We couldn't even get his thumb to go into the thumb hole. I'm pretty sure he spent the first 20 minutes of this adventure falling over and worrying that his thumb was gone forever. 

Before I had kids I loved the thrill of speed, a rollercoaster or anything else. No fear. But something terrible has happened to me. Josh put the boys in the sled and sent them on their merry way down the hill. And I panicked. Apparently, they were sliding down the hill a little faster than my new mom speedometer would allow, so I grabbed the back of the sled to slow them down. Bad idea. It was like yanking the emergency brake on the interstate. The sled stopped. The boys did not. I had hit the toddler eject button. It was their first run down the hill and I ruined it.

After I caused the wipe out, it seemed there was no chance of getting Silas back in a sled. I assumed my punishment would be to sit in the car with Silas for the rest of the afternoon. But I wanted to sled too, dammit! So when we got to the top of the hill and nothing we could say or do would convince Silas to get back into the sled, I scooped him up, plopped him in front of Jackson and gave them a push.

I wish I could have seen the look on his face. I can only assume it started with sheer panic and terror. But by the time they came to a stop at the bottom of the hill they were both beaming with excitement. Over and over they climbed the hill and slid down again. 

Silas took one nasty spill that was rather impressive. The sled went a little off course, they hit a bump that sent Jackson and the sled in one direction and Silas went airborne in the opposite direction. I ran down the hill (ok, maybe I slid and fell down the hill) to his rescue. The snow had scraped his face and he had a bloody fat lip. His face must have been what stopped him from sliding any further because his nose was packed full of snow. I discovered the bloody nose when I squeezed the little snowballs out of his nostrils. He cried for just a minute and then asked if he could go again. Just like his mother...