You don’t really know what you’ll do to protect your child until you are in the throws of a dangerous situation and your child’s safety rests in your hands. Sure, you know you’ll do anything and everything to keep them safe, but you don’t really know how far you’ll go until you are in the middle of a crisis. In my two years with Isla, I’ve never really had to yank her from a growling dog, step in front of a car to grab her or done anything that would require putting myself in harms way to save her. That is until last Saturday night during bowling at Latitude 30.
I can probably count on my hands how many times I went bowling pre-Isla. But since I’ve had her, I’ve managed to hit the lanes three times. I blame it on Latitude 30. It’s just so much fun! If you’ve never been it’s similar to Dave and Buster’s except fancier. With an arcade, restaurant, bowling lanes and even a mini-movie theater, this Mandarin hotspot has something for every one, except for maybe a two-year-old.
I’m not stupid. I knew the risk I was running bringing an almost 2-year-old to a bowling alley. But let’s face it, Isla can find the danger in any situation so it doesn’t really matter if I’m making sure she doesn’t run into the road at Lillie’s in Atlantic Beach or pulling her hands away from the collecting bowling balls at Latitude 30. Toddlers can be a bit of a challenge no matter where you are. Enter last Saturday night.
On our way to Latitude 30 Isla had fallen asleep. She only awoke about 10 minutes after settling into our lane so she was still a bit groggy for the first few minutes of our bowling adventure. But about 20 minutes into it she was her full alert, wanting-to-explore-everything self, and Paul and I immediately went to work chasing her, keeping her fingers safe from the bowling balls in the tray and trying our hardest to distract her with chips and salsa. A few times she would run after me when it was my turn to bowl and twice I held her hand and did my best to knock down a few pins. Despite her curiosity it was turning out to be a manageable night, until she started running in front of our neighbor’s lane.
As most children are, Isla is quick. Couple that with the fun of bowling, a few beers and an all around good time and it’s easy to look up a second to late to find her darting for the neighbors bowling lane. She did this twice and both times I grabbed her arm before she became a human bowling ball. But the third time neither one of us was so lucky. There I was chatting with somebody in our party and I looked up only to see Isla cutting in front of our neighbors and heading straight towards their lane. I darted after her grabbing her arm just as she stepped over that forbidden black line on the lane (you know the one that gives you a foul if you step over it). For a split second I was semi-proud of how fast I got to her and that nobody’s game was ruined during her escape run.
That proud mama moment quickly vanished as my feet began to slip and slide beneath me desperately trying to grasp the ground as my arms flailed about trying to find balance. The more I attempted to steady myself the more I’d waiver back and forth and eventually I fell onto the lane landing hard on my hip and shoulder. I can only imagine what I looked like. Red hair whipping wildly up into the air, legs flying over my head, my face twisted in shock. As I landed I realized I was still holding onto Isla’s wrist and that in my attempt to save her from falling I had actually brought her down with me. But it didn’t end there.
As we lay there trying to catch our bearings, my nephew came barreling down the lane towards us in his own attempt to save Isla. But just like us, the slick surface was not so kind to him either and he collapsed down beside us. There we were lying in a mangled heap in front of the entire bowling alley. I’m not sure if I heard laughter, gasps or silence coming from the bowlers but when I looked up dozens of eyes were staring back at us. Still completely bewildered I got up and did a little curtsey to ease the sting of embarrassment, but not before one final slip for good measure.
Where’s America’s Funniest Videos when you need them (Paul actually was video taping that night but had put down the flip camera during our tumble)? We had to have looked like Mo, Larry and Curly as one after another felt the lane’s slippery wrath. Surprisingly Isla wasn’t crying and I wasn’t break-out-into-tears embarrassed, although still quite humiliated. Five years ago this incident may have colored me a bright shade of red and sent me to the bathroom in tears, but this time I just laughed it off because I had to save my daughter! And I couldn’t help but feel like I had just endured a mother’s rite of passage.
How have you hurt/embarrassed yourself trying to keep your child out of harm’s way?
This is so hilarious!!