Have you ever experienced one of those slow-motion moments? Your brain knows what is happening, but your body does not respond at the same lightspeed rate.
I was sitting across the picnic table from my teenage son eating birthday cake. My daughter Liv, not a fan of cake, was the sole jumper in the bounce house. I knew it was windy because the cake was blowing off the plates and the presents' tissue papers were taking flight. But sometimes I am simply stupid and did not make the connection between windy day and the event that would unfold.
The bounce house came unstaked and immediately took flight, flipping through the air twice before I could get my hands on it and pull with 200% of my strength. I was screaming, "Olivia! Olivia!" My voice must have triggered my son's teenage brain: "Sister inside flying object. Must dive in after her."
And this was the moment I knew everything would be ok. Not merely because I could hear Liv's little voice, but my teenager who claims he can't stand his sister, instinctually went to her rescue. This boy, the source of so much stress and heartache, became my hero. The hero.
In that post-adrenalin plummet, I knew I had a promise that I will cling to when the winds of life feel like they make blow me over.
Lessons learned: my son can't stand his sister, but ultimately loves her; don't let your child play in a bounce house on a windy day.
