Today our family had a wonderful day at the park. We played on the swings, took turns going down the slide, played ball and even walked through the forest to find Buckeyes (a common tradition in Ohio.) The sun was shining and it was a perfect lazy Sunday afternoon. Until we got back to the car…
As I am strapping my daughter in the car she asks, “Mommy, where’s my ball?”
“Who dropped the ball?” I asked.
Immediately, I realized that while picking Buckeyes up off the ground she must have put down the ball. I also immediately realized that this was a job for Biz e-Mom! I sprang into action. Before my husband could say, “I’ll go look–” I was in motion back down the path to retrace our steps. I began a broad panoramic scan of the territory while simultaneously replaying the events that had taken place minute-by-minute. Like a military search and rescue mission, I left no stone or leaf unturned as I covered the grid. There were so many leaves. The ground was a mix of dry brown grass, yellow leaves and black dirt. A purple bouncy ball could easily be camouflaged in the terrain. I pressed on.
What kind of mother would I be if I couldn’t find my child’s lost ball?
Finally, I reached the bottom of a grassy hill where we’d first started our Buckeye hunt. I stopped in the middle of the park and turned 360-degrees to get an unobstructed view of the landscape. Then, like a bright, shiny Easter egg the purple bouncy ball was discovered nestled among the grass and fallen leaves. A rush of excitement and accomplishment filled me from within. I hadn’t let my family down. Once again, Biz e-Mom had saved the day. My undefeated record would stand (Biz e-Mom 56 – Biz e-Dad 0 ).
Once the warmth of victory had waned, a couple of thoughts hit me. First, why is it that everyone expects Moms to know where lost things are? “MOMMMMMM where’s my shirt?” “HONEYYYYYY where’s the keys?” It’s like we are supposed to have x-ray vision. My mom always had it. But, is it hereditary? Second, why is it that we have come to expect that of ourselves? If I can’t find something, I begin to obsess over it thinking, “it must be here somewhere.” If I don’t find the lost item, will I be stripped of my super hero cape?
When I finally got back to the car and handed my daughter the purple bouncy ball, the smile on her face answered all of my questions. I do it for them–my daughter, my son, my husband–because their happiness makes me happy. Albeit stressful at times, I enjoy the responsibility and reward that goes along with my title. I may try too hard sometimes but I don’t want to drop the ball for them.