There's airborne, and then there's Airborne.

The two older boys didn't have school on Friday due to Parent Teacher Conferences, so even though Oldest Boy and Toddler Child were "sick" with colds, they rallied to go sledding.  Funny how that happens.

The sky was blue, the air was clean and we headed to a park with a hill big enough for the older boys to enjoy but small enough for Toddler Child to manage.  There's nothing worse than a 40-pound toddler asking to be carried up a hill, when it's hard enough getting your own, old butt to the top.  This hill was every man for himself, and my selection strategy saved my back.  When the older boys needed more excitement, they built a jump.  Which hurt their backs.  Even Toddler Child's.

I refused to go over the little jump which disappointed the boys.  It's not my first rodeo, Kids.

Friday night we went to bed and I woke up at 1:38 a.m.  Oldest Boy's and Toddler Child's cold was now mine.  Frustrating to go to bed feeling perfectly healthy, then be hit with illness, recognizing the exact moment it infiltrates the body.  I'm sick.

As Chris and the older boys left for snowboarding on Saturday morning, and Toddler Child seemed exorcised of his cold, I thought to myself, maybe I should have taken the jump...