Sickikins

Our bodies are betryaing us. Wyatt's had a cough. Elise has had the flu--sick since Tuesday, feverish, achy, moaning on the couch, the whole nine yards. Forrest is all plugged up and has post-nasal drip and is determined to beat the cold by drinking orange juice and standing in hot showers (not simultaneously). Jonas woke up yesterday feverish, too, and has a greenish cast to his complexion (poor kid). Ethan woke up this morning and announced that he was also sick--although he doesn't have a fever and his complexion always looks pasty white--but then I feel guilty because of all my kids I'm always most suspicious that he's faking it.

Sorry, Ethan, if you really are sick and I'm suspicious. I'm sure you really did want to go to church :-).

I don't have the goop, but my body's betraying me in other ways. Besides the omnipresent tailbone pain that serves to remind me of my body's rapid descent into middle age, I now have a skiing injury that I'm quite certain will start acting up whenever the weather's about to change for the rest of my life.

I neglected to mention last week that we took the kids skiing. (Well, we took Elise and Jonas skiing, since Ethan was at school and Wyatt doesn't ski.) I try to be a good sport about snow skiing--I really do. Healthy, active, super-fun people with names like "Pikabo Street" like snow skiing, and I want nothing more than to be healthy, active, and super-fun. Forrest loves snowboarding and I wish I could be one of those hard core outdoorsy chicks who likes to "push it to the limit" and "live dangerously" and "participate in sports of any kind."

Alas, I am not.

Well, okay, I'll waterski. That's kinda fun, sometimes. I also like yoga, but I don't think that counts because although it's technically "active," it's done inside, to introspective instrumental music, and at the end you get to lay on the floor and listen to people say soothing things and meditate.

So I decided to try and be sporting and go skiing with my family. Elise and I spent some time on the bunny hill and actually enjoyed ourselves. Swoosh, swoosh, giggle, giggle, look at the pretty trees! etc. No falling down. No terror. I was having a good time but knew it would be short lived because the bunny hill at Brighton is way too short. Even I was getting bored. (It seems to me the Chickadee at Snow Bird is the perfect bunny hill--just challenging enough, and not over in 90 seconds.) But Jonas and Forrest had been on the "big hill"--and yes, it's probably not even a "big hill" as far as legitimate skiing is concerned, but it's big enough, alright??

Anyway, both Elise and I needed to man up and go join them. So we did and for the first half I was doing okay. Snow plowing, cutting back and forth to reduce speed, looking cooly competent instead of mildly panicked, and so forth. But then we cut around these trees and the powder was really deep and--oh no, oh no, ohnoohnoohno--I started going too fast and the tree was zooming up to meet me and CRASH. I crashed.

The worst part is that not only am I not the best skiier, but I'm an even worse faller. I fell with my knees splayed out in the way little kids to when they're sitting on the floor and the powder was so deep that my skis were completely stuck. No WAY I could move those things. So I had to yell for Forrest to come help me while my knees screamed in pain. He pulled me out and I tried to be tough about it. I even went down the hill one more time. But I knew I'd be paying for it.

So now, a week and a half later, I'm limping up and down the stairs. They feel better today than yesterday (which is weird, since yesterday I was wearing a brace) and my left knee is a lot better than my right, but I still feel like a hobbly old lady.

Dumb bodies.

Hopefully we'll all be healed here soon.

But hey! The Academy Awards are on tonight! So there's that. Do you think Kate Winslet skis? I'd feel lots better about myself if she didn't.