Sledding

We were going to spend last weekend in Illinois. The plan was to leave early on Friday and arrive back home on Sunday. I was looking forward to helping with my future sister-in-law's bridal shower on Saturday. Upon arriving home Thursday night after a rare evening out with friends I was put on high alert.  Another snowstorm would be arriving in our area and the weather team on the local news alluded to the fact that the end of the world was near. 

I then did what I do best.  I fretted and worried and did a lot of hand wringing trying to decide if we should make the trip or not.  I made a hundred or so phone calls to get opinions from everyone but the pope. In the end, we decided to err on the side of caution and stayed put. 

The boys were bummed all weekend that they didn't get to see their cousins. I stayed in my pajamas for a few days to display my disappointment .  To who?  To the man.  The weather man.  (It made much more sense then I promise.)

Imagine my dismay when the snow storm skipped by us completely.  Not a single flake fell-let alone accumulated.  The roads were no worse than they were before.  Normally I would be delighted because I HATE SNOW but I was pretty peeved that the weather guy got it all wrong and thwarted my plans.

Now that I got that out there I can tell you what we did on Friday.  Jeremy and I took the boys over to the subdivision lake to go sledding with our neighbors.  We quickly realized that we are ill prepared for these types of activities. 

Ben lost a boot in the snow.  They are hand me downs from Jimmy that might be too big.

I only have one pair of water resistant gloves for the kids.  Owen had to make do with mittens. 

And Jeremy does not have a pair of boots. 

It was our lack of equipment that kept us from staying very long. The fact that I was afraid that I would slip and go rolling down the hill had nothing to do with it.