Sledding

It was ten minutes after five. The kids went outside after lunch to play in the snow. My son, Jamie grabbed the sled and staggered up the hill for another turn sliding down the hill. The first few runs were a little bumpy since the recent snowstorm covered up the small rocks and small shrubbery on the yard. Jamie is not a child that accepts defeat though. He wanted to be the fastest to get to the bottom of the little hill because all his friends made it down. So, he lined up his sled at the top of the hill with the flattened path that was already created from the last few runs.

He placed the sled at the top of the crest and prepared to sit down. The sled took off by itself before he was ready, and he tumbled face first into the snow. He brushed it off and attempted to slowly work his way down to retrieve the sled. The soft snow that was exposed to the air became slick and he lost his footing and fell again. Our dog, Charlie, ran back and forth barking at Jamie as he got up, grabbing the rope of the sled. Charlie snatched the rope from his hand and pulled the sled away from him. Jamie yelled at him to drop the rope and Charlie stopped to lay down.

I giggled a little as I watched his relentless attempt to get the sled ready for another ride. I watched from the living room window for a few more minutes before I got bundled up to go outside. I thought maybe I could show him a few tricks I learned from my dad when I was about his age. My daughter, Amy, was at the bottom of the incline waiting for her turn. I walked up behind her to grab her hand, and we stumbled through the slick powder together.

We struggled to reach the top of the incline, but I lost my footing about halfway up the hill. As I slipped, I took Amy down with me. We did a barrel roll back to the bottom where we started. We looked at each other and started laughing uncontrollably. Jamie ran over to see if we were okay with Charlie at his side. He bent over to reach his hand for mine and as he did, I pulled him down with us.

For the next several minutes, we made snow angels and threw little snowballs at each other enjoying the time together. The kids got up and began to chase each other around the yard as I just watched. I remembered the fun my siblings and I had ever snowstorm. My brother and sister and I used to play outside all the time after a fresh coat of snow. Our father would prepare the yard to create tunnels in the snow almost like a bobsled track. We would race each other over and over to see who was the fastest and dad would be at the end of the hill with his whistle and stopwatch.

We were now wet and cold, so it was time to go into the house. Outside the front door, we left our boots, gloves and jackets on the porch. The kids ran to their rooms to change into dry clothes, and I went into the kitchen to make some hot cocoa with tiny little marshmallows. After I set up the mugs and a plate of cookies, I called the children to the table. We sat there for quite a while talking and laughing about the adventures of the day.

I smiled from my heart that moment to be able to be with my children with undivided attention; no cell phones, no laptops, no electronic devices at all. It was ten minutes after five.