How Not to Sled

One of the highlights of our Christmas trip to Chicago was taking Abigail sledding on the same hill that I played on as a child.  Matt, being a Floridian, had never been sledding either, so my excitement was doubled, knowing that I could introduce my precious family to a childhood memory.  I boasted about my sledding ability and even gave tongue-in-cheek tips to Matt about weight placement on the sled. 

Below is shameful evidence that I have forgotten how to sled and am apparently afraid of fast (?) speeds.  For your viewing enjoyment, please follow along with the commentary below the video and try to understand what was going through my mind.



0:01 - "All ready to go here in my orange sled.  Abigail is safely tucked in my lap.  Just sitting here, waiting for the hill to clear at the bottom." 

*** Yes, it took me more than half the video to finally start moving.  Sorry you just wasted 24 seconds of your life watching me contemplate going down the hill.

0:25 - "Here we go!"
0:26 - "Oh no...this is way too fast!  Stick those feet out to brake!  Brake!"
0:29 - "What's that shrill screaming that I hear?  It sounds like Abigail.  (Look down)  Oh my goodness, I'm spraying snow in her face!"
0:31 - "Quick!  Cover her face with my hands so the snow won't get on it!"
0:38 - "Oh no!  I just covered her face with my snow-covered gloves.  It is all over her face, eyes, and in her mouth!"
0:41 - "Brush it off!  Brush it off"
0:43 - "Give her to daddy...I am a failure of a sledder and a terrible mom."

And just in case you missed what happened, here's a still shot.  Yes, that's my 22-month-old daughter in the pink with snow spraying her and her mother's freezing, snow filled gloves smothering her face.

I obviously cropped out my face.  You do not want to see it.  The expression I am making is rather embarrassing.  If this isn't embarrassing enough.  I am never going sledding again.