After the first bum drop I should have known. I wasn’t ten years old anymore and my wrists couldn’t take the pressure despite landing on a stretchy pad with tons of give.  Something about jumping on that trampoline transported me back to a time when hours flew by as I flopped and flew in the air, a time before canned tuna was the enemy and Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time rocked my world.

I attempted two front flips, suffered a minor case of whiplash and welcome back shin-splints, it’s been a while. I questioned how I could have jumped for more than three seconds without filling my pants as a child let alone an entire Saturday.  Maybe it was birthing three children but the joy of bouncing had definitely passed. I actually considered the possibility that the bouncing might actually cause another one to fall out.

Things had shifted, mostly lowered. I became very aware of my bra and that I too fall into the 99% of women wearing the wrong size category. An unfortunate time for discovery.

On the car ride home, I asked the girls what their favourite part of the day was but not before Hanna asked me how a hen could have a baby everyday if she wasn’t married.

Hanna: Playing with my cousins.

Ellie (age four): The best part was watching Chloe Mom. She really had the time of her life. She’s such a wonderful human bean.