War wounds in Park City.

We spent a few days in Utah last weekend for a wedding on Tim's side of the family. Since occasion rarely permits visits with his parents and siblings, we enjoyed what little time we had. I also had a few wounds to show for our visit.
Tim challenged me to a race down the alpine slides in Park City. He should know better than to do such a thing to his competitive, pregnant wife. I took him on, of course, each of us carrying one of our children as a passenger. Dumb, dumb, dumb. I floored the sled the entire time, leaving little resistance between it and the cement path we cascaded down.
Sure enough, when we hit a particularly sharp turn, the sled turned slightly on its side, sending Anna and I partially onto the cement, sliding at 20 plus miles per hour on my left side until we recovered and finished the race, bruised and battered. Well, at least I was. Anna emerged without a scratch. Thank heaven for a mother's instinct to put her child first. I must have cradled her completely, suffering the brunt of the damage to my left elbow and knee. Honestly though, at the speeds we reached, the damage could (and should) have been far worse. The best part? After we recovered our positions on the sled, my also-very competitive daughter remarked to me, "Mom, it's okay if we don't win. I don't care anymore." Ha! It's nice to know that our lives are more important to her than winning. Great life lesson, I suppose. Here's what I have to show for it:

As if that wasn't enough, I slammed Lily's thumb in the car door before leaving the ski resort. The sliding door, no less. Yes, I had several brilliant moments that day. I knew it was bad when she immediately screamed, "It's okay, it's okay! It doesn't hurt! It's okay!", all while in complete hysterics. This, from my child who needs a band-aid for a "pretend" owie. Luckily, an x-ray at the doctor's office revealed no damage, just some serious bruising that should heal up in a week or so. Phew.