I literally crawled into bed and threw the covers over my head, trying to hide from my husband. We had been up late the night before, and woke up early for church and Sunday school. I was so tired, the last thing I wanted to do was drag a sled up a sled hill. No, wait…I was so tired that the last thing I wanted to do was stuff two little girls into snow pants, boots, hats, coats and gloves, and THEN go drag a sled up a sled hill.
“But I don’t want to go sledding!” I whined.
“I’m tired, too, but if we don’t go now it’ll be too late,” Ed reasoned with me.
And so I groaned and moaned and threw back the covers so I could start stuffing the kids into their snow pants.
The day was clear and sunny, and the sled hill was crowded. The top of the hill teemed with kids, parents, and all kinds of sleds. But when we actually got in line, it didn’t take long. Lily was in seventh heaven, flying down the hill on her own.
My little one, Emmy, is not as daring as her big sister. But after a few times down the sled hill with Daddy, she told him confidently, “I want to go down by myself!”
I started to panic at the thought. My baby, going down the hill with all these big kids, by herself!
I’m not as daring as Lily, either.
With great trepidation, I let go of her sled. She flew down that hill, and although I couldn’t see her face, I imagine she was laughing the whole way down. Then she picked up the sled and ran over to the side, out of the way of the big kids, just the way I had told her to. She went down that sled hill several more times, all by herself.
So, was I glad that I had thrown those covers aside and forced myself up that hill? Was I glad I picked sledding over napping? Absolutely. We had so much fun on that brisk winter day, and we had been waiting for snow. On Monday, it started to rain, and all our beautiful snow turned to ice. Thankfully, we had had our one glorious afternoon of sledding before the rain set in.
