Sledding is dangerous.

I mean, they go FLYING down that hill. So fast. I swear they can't even breathe. It scares me, but they're in those bucket-like sleds and it helps them stay a little safer.

But who knew sledding would be dangerous for me? Especially when I don't even ride a sled. When we decided to leave, I walked across the cement pavilion and tripped over a metal hook that stuck up from the ground and fell straight onto my knees and hands. I was holding Lillie's hand and she biffed it as well. Her eskimo jacket narrowly saved her from injury.

I sustained traumatic emotional wounds. Including but not limited to falling when I'm pregnant (scary, risky, scary), and smashing the front of my 50mm lens which was attached to the camera hanging from my neck. It doesn't focus now. I was (am) heartbroken. Now I have to shoot everything in F/4 for the time being. Super duper lame.

On a lighter note, after an overwhelmingly exhausting week, we went to the Visitor's Center on Temple Square and happened to watch a wonderful video presentation upstairs on the values of family. I learned that the most important things to teach our babies, our children, is that they're loved. And that they're a Child of God. How simple is that?

That I can do.