Some Other Mommy Lady

I thought my last trip to the Botanic Gardens was bad, but our Mother’s Day picnic yesterday takes the cake.

The weather was perfect and the monkeys were happy and energetic despite having skipped their naps. Warren and I remembered most of what we were supposed to bring and made it to the Japanese Gardens with no drama whatsoever. My mother was decked out in her Sunday finest, camera in hand, ready to fill her family calendar with happy images of our celebration. My sister, still heavily medicated and having the use of only one hand, was in as high of spirits as she’s capable of. Her two children were thrilled to be in the great outdoors and were busy running amok. My brother-in-law, the newest dad of all, was a bit cranky after having been forced to take a separate car from his very slow wife and child on top of being assigned “fried chicken duty,” but we’re used to him being a little cranky. My oldest sister was a little cranky too after getting lost in the gardens with her infant for twenty minutes.

When we finally started unpacking the picnic, I noticed that the bubbles I brought for Jiro spilled in my bag and rendered my cell phone useless. Earlier, when I put the bubbles next to my phone, I had a moment of “I probably shouldn’t do this,” but I did it anyway. And even though Warren’s cell phone survived a spin in the washing machine (once it thoroughly dried out) and I figured my phone would one day work again, I was still pissed at myself. I did some grumbling and had a little temper tantrum of my own and I felt a little better.

My mom, in an attempt to cheer me (and everyone else) up, said, “Don’t worry, I’m sure this won’t be the worst thing to happen today.”

And, as usual, she was right.

We all settled in for some fried chicken, fruit salad, Caesar salad, biscuits, and brownies in an attempt to get happy. The kids finished their drumsticks in record time and went off to feed the fish and chase the ducks. Before I could moan about not getting to finish feasting, my brother-in-law set off after the four monkeys to monitor their hijinx. They picked a spot from which to spray the wildlife with small, brown pellets purchased at the front desk, and my BIL sat down on a nearby bench to watch to enjoy the view. I started on my second piece of chicken and poured myself some iced tea.

Before the caffeine could infiltrate my system, I heard wailing coming from the pond. I looked up to see a complete stranger holding Jiro by the arms. He was soaked from head to toe. My BIL was rushing towards him as I tossed my plate aside and rushed over as well. My first thought was Great, now he’s all wet again. (He had waded into the one foot deep “Doggie Pond” the week before at Overton Park.) Then I thought, Dammit all of the backup clothes are in the car.

As I walked my crying baby back to the picnic area, the reality of the situation started to sink in. My baby was completely submerged in water while I was a 100 feet away eating fried chicken! He was clearly fine, just really wet and scared, but I was not. “Get the food off of the blanket,” I barked. “I need to get him dry!”

Once I had him stripped down and wrapped up in my lap, I tried to find out what happened. I asked my BIL. “I don’t know, it was over before I saw anything,” he said. I asked Satchel. He explained, “Jiro fell in the water and the other mommy lady grabbed him.”

The other mommy lady. I looked around trying to locate this nimble woman so I could thank her profusely and get some more details, but she was gone. Everything had happened so fast, I just let her save my baby without a word of thanks!

I felt like the biggest loser mom ever.


By the time Warren came back with fresh clothes, Jiro was happily eating Pringles in my lap and even though I was still mentally beating myself up, I had stopped hyperventilating. “It’s only a couple of feet deep,” Warren reassured me. “He held his breath and he didn’t get any in his lungs. He’s fine.”

I got Jiro dressed and stuck to him like glue for the rest of the afternoon. He seemed to be fine and wasn’t afraid to go near the water. I started to relax and enjoy myself. We blew bubbles, took some family photos, ate more chicken, and just hung out.

At one point, I noticed that my ten-year-old nephew had almost his entire lower body in the pond. “Are your feet touching the bottom?” I asked.

“Nope,” he said.

I started to shake. It was much deeper than I had assumed. I started envisioning Jiro sinking and just couldn’t understand how we had averted disaster. “Warren, get a stick and see how deep this water is,” I pleaded.

He plucked a 5 foot stick off of a tree and began testing the pond. In some spots it was indeed very deep, but in others it wasn’t. Jiro just happened to fall into a shallow part while some other mommy lady was watching.

As I lay in bed last night, I tried to focus on the funny part of the afternoon when we were gathered around the fountains and Satchel whipped out his penis in front of twenty finely dressed strangers and peed on his brother’s pant leg for no apparent reason, but I couldn’t.