This past week, we attended Isabelle's 3rd grade graduation ceremony:
It was a big day as we said our good-byes to elementary school. Next stop: 4th grade!
I am a big baby when it comes to milestones like births, graduations, the beginning and the end of the school year, etc. I used to go out of my way to mark these occasions for the kids. I wanted to make these moments stand out and become wonderful memories of growing up.
I used to take the last day of school off and pick the kids up at dismissal time. We would drive right to the toy store and stock up on summer necessities: Hoola hoops, big plastic bouncy balls and squirt guns. Not rinky dink little guns that spit out a few drops. No - we went all out. We bought the super deluxe power soakers. These are the guns with a second reserve in case you run out of H2O in mid-battle. We'd stock up and then head home to engage the neighborhood.
Well, after a few summers of this, I realized I had to shift gears. Walking out my front door at the wrong moment meant I could end up as the unwitting participant in an impromptu wet T-shirt contest. At best, I'd spend the rest of the day wiping mascara off my face and explaining to the mail man that I didn't pee my pants - really - it is just my kids idea of funny.
One year, I showed up on the last day with a balloon bouquet. Each of the kids would take a balloon and make a wish. Their friends would gather around and watch the balloons float off into the distance. The kids liked it, I stayed nice & dry all summer. It was one of those win-win deals and it became a tradition every year.
Then there was that one year. The year that will go down in the memory hall of fame. The kids laugh and I cringe at the very mention of it. That year, I didn't take the day off. I was running late and had to pick up the balloons and get to school all within a 30 minute window. Luckily, the schools were right next to each other separated by a wide gully.
I got to school late, running with my balloon bouquet in tow. I could see Izzy in the distance waiting at the door. I knew I needed to get her, but Gigi was getting dismissed in just a minute or two. I was forced to make one of those split second mom decisions. Go for the youngest first, grab her and then run over to the middle school to meet up with Gigi. We could launch the balloons once we were all together. Right. Sounds good.
I decided the fastest way to reach Izzy was to cut across the gully. The fact it had rained the night before escaped me. I was like a mother bear focused on her cub. I had balloons and it was the end of the school year. We were going to make some memories gosh darn it. And I took off down the hill. There I was running down the grassy slope, waving to Izzy, bright pink and purple helium balloons bobbing in the air above my head. It was like I had a great big neon arrow over my head saying "Here I am - Izzy's Mom."
Yes and now that I had called enough attention to myself, I took that last fateful step. It was one of those slow motion moments where you know something bad is about to happen and you are praying its just nothing too huge. My moment went something like this: slippery wet grass, losing my footing completely, both feet go out from under me at at a 90 degree angle, and I try to break my fall with my hands. I scream just to ensure I have caught the attention of every parent or child within a 2 miles radius. And I land. A hard, deliberate, gravity acknowledging thud to the ground. Instinctively, my hands move in to cushion my fall.
"POP, POP, POP, POP." This is the sound of your butt landing on a combination of wet grass and 3/4 of a balloon bouquet.
It took me a moment to process the scene. Oh- wow- this is embarrassing. I just wiped out in front of two heavily populated schools...Bummer.... Oh who cares - I am here to make memories. It's about the kids and the end of the school year. And I have 2 balloons left!.
I pulled myself up and made my way over to Izzy's school. As we walked back across the gully to the middle school, I heard a bunch of giggles. Then Isabelle herself burst into laughter..."Mom. Mom...MOM you have to stop." "What Honey. What is it?" "Mom, your butt is WET. Soaking WET!".
In my quest to create lasting memories for my children, I failed to notice the extremely wet ground had left its mark. I reached behind to gauge the size & scope of the damage. While I was weighing out how big of a deal this really was, Izzy educated me:
"Mom - you can not go over there."
"Well, how will I get Gigi? How will I give her a balloon?"
"I don't know but you CAN'T go over there. "
Well, okay I was pretty wet. We needed a plan. Izzy would walk ahead of me. As soon as we got close enough, I would lean up against the far side of the building. Izzy would walk over, get Genevieve and bring her to me. We would stay put until everyone left, launch our balloons and be on our way. Perfect. We could do this.
All went fine up until the part where Izzy gets Genevieve and brings her over. Things played out like this:
Genevieve: "Mom- what are you doing over there? Bring my balloons over here so everyone can watch."
I wave her over. Smile sweetly and wave again.
Genevieve: Mom- C'mon. Did Izzy leave a pink balloon for me?"
Izzy then tugged at Genevieve's sleeve, got her to bend down and whispered into her ear.
Genevieve's eyes got really wide. She started to giggle and then began laughing quite loudly.
Genevieve: "You guys. Check it out. Look at my mom's butt! She is soaking WET. Yeah and she crushed the balloons on her way down. Popped them right on the hill! Mom- turn around. Let's SEE!!!"
So as memories go, that was a winning year. All I have to do is mention the words balloon bouquet and the laughter immediately follows~"Yeah and remember how wet her rear end was? And she fell down the hill popping the balloons with her butt. I think like a million people saw her. Yeah and those poor balloons ...they just didn't have a chance!"
