Survivor- Mommy Island

My pulse quickened as the hour approached. My two daughters, Lily 5, and Layla 3, were anxiously awaiting the imminent birthday party that was lurking just an hour away. It was a dual birthday party for two sisters; one turning 6, one turning 3. I did not know the family very well, nor the facility at which the event was to occur, but I knew it meant a lot to my girls to attend, and so I prepared. The presents were perfectly wrapped, topped off with a little gummy sucker for that added touch. The girls finished their hand-made cards just in time to be affixed prior to jumping in the car and starting the adventure.

With everyone well buckled in, we journeyed towards a place that was filled with various inflatable and bouncy contraptions. Layla fell asleep on the drive. This was to be expected since the party was scheduled right in the middle of typical nap time. I did not see this as a bad thing. If she stayed asleep, it would give me one less child to worry about in the room of bounce and mayhem.

We opened the doors and the staff seemed somewhat disinterested. No big deal, I had dealt successfully with this in the past and I could overcome this first hurdle. The girls’ hands were stamped with black ink that I was sure would smudge off on their clothes, but I had prepared for that by dressing them in multicolored play clothes. Hurdle number one was conquered.

We were pointed in the direction of the back of the building. Nothing specific, so we used our birthday party tracking instincts to find the right room. Once we arrived, Lily quickly discarded her shoes and took on the behavior of the primitive natives running through the over plasticized play area. She regained her civility enough to asked me nicely if she could go play, and with my smile and nod, she was on her way into the jungle that was this birthday party. For an instant, I thought this might go much more smoothly than I had feared. I was sitting with Layla on my lap and all was calm. Then it happened. The rush of older and more destructive kids entered the room. They tore from one contraption to the next like a ravished swarm of locusts, not caring who or what was in their way. Layla woke up. Remember, she was 3, she was tired, and she wanted her sister. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Lily” she said, “I want Lily.” My heart was warmed by her desire to be with her big sister, but fearful knowing that the calm of sitting and watching was about to end.

Lily ran over to me and hugged Layla. She took her hand and led her little sister, my baby, off into the bouncy wilderness and barbaric screeches. They headed to the structure I called the mountains of doom. It was a long structure with three hills. Two hills were small, the third was big, with a slide on the other side. I saw Lily and Layla enter through the small round holes. I watched with anticipation. Just as I started to relax, I saw Lily race out with a look of utter fear on her face. “Mommy, mommy!” she said. “Layla needs you! She’s screaming!” My mommy velociraptor instincts kicked in and I was ready to kill or be killed to defend my youngling (well, ok, scold or be scolded…) I dropped everything and dove head first into the circle of death opening into the mountains of doom. I found her at the first valley, tears filling her eyes. She could not tell me why she was crying, but I knew something had scared her terribly. She did not want to go back through the entrance (who could blame her). She wanted to finish what she began. I respected this and wanted to nurture her adventuresome spirit, but I was fearful of what lay ahead. But as a good, encouraging mother, we forged forward. Her little legs worked hard to scale the walls, and I did my best to balance on the tremulous structure concocted by deranged human hands. I felt like I was walking on the disrupted stomach of a great and angry beast. But I was determined to win the scrimmage with the beast. She dove through the tunnel that brought us to the 2nd valley and I followed suit. We both stopped to catch our breath and embrace in celebration for success over the first hill. We then heard a loud rumble. A stampede of crazed children, the same ravenous locusts from before, were rushing the structure and heading right for us. I grabbed her and held her close to me as we huddled in a corner of the valley. Even though huddled, we still had a few random children barrel over us as if we weren’t there. We stayed put until the last of the swarm was gone, then cautiously headed towards the 3rd and highest hill. We both stared at the hill and took in a deep breath. Layla looked at me with bravery in her eyes, and began the climb. I stayed close behind her to guard her from any stragglers from the swarm. Because she was using the tiny foot and hand ledges to climb, I only had a few for my feet and the side rope to pull me up. I was barely hanging on and could easily fall back down into the valley, leaving my baby up there alone. My heart trembled. It was precarious, but I made it. Once at the top, we slid down and quickly exited the mountains of doom. We were exhausted, but proud of the feat we had just accomplished. Lily stood there at our finish line, waiting for us and cheering us on. We made it. But Layla had been bit by the excitement of the swarm and she wanted more. My baby who had been crying for escape was turning – she was becoming one of them.

Her eyes focused on the incredibly large inflatable slide. This was the very same slide that another parent warned me about. “It’s not for adults! It took everything I had to get to the top. I didn’t think I’d make it!” she said. I attempted to get Layla to go sit down, but she was determined. Again, not wanting to squelch the determination in her, I agreed and we headed towards the slide. Lily started up the flimsy “staircase’. It was a sectioned off part of the slide with tiny ¼ inch bars across it to help you climb. And of course, ropes on the side. Lily had no problem with the stairs and quickly ascended. Layla, on the other hand, was quite slow. After only about an 1/8th of the way, she decided she wanted up. No, not up to the top, though she did want that. She wanted me to carry her up. Here I am, the swarm quickly approaching up the “ladder”, and my baby girl not wanting to move. I had to make a decision. I could see her mood. She wanted to go up there. She wanted to be with Lily. And if I took her down, she’d let out screams to put a banshee to shame. This would not be over until we successfully climbed this slide. My decision making process was cut short as the swarm ran up behind us. We had nowhere to go but up. I grabbed her tightly and put her on my hip. I took a deep breath, grabbed the rope with my free hand, and scaled the slide – 3 year old in toe, crazy swarm behind pushing me. Did I mention I had just come from work so to top it off, I was wearing a skirt?

“One hand after the other” I said to myself, while the echo of the other parent who struggled to the top, was running through my head. But I would not be defeated. Determination grew to its height in me and I went for it. With speed and agility that came from God knows where, Layla and I made our way to the top. I balanced on the tiny steps and used all the strength available in my non-child carrying arm to pull us up the rope! We made it!!! I now knew how my co-worker must have felt when she climbed Half Dome at Yosemite (and no, the comparison isn’t a bad one! Did she have a child on her hip?) Once we reached the top, we were rewarded by a big smile on Lily’s face as she sat patiently waiting for us to slide down with her. I looked at Layla and asked her if she was ready. Her eyes scanned the room from way up on top of the mountain we just climbed. They then looked down the slide, and then at her sister. She looked me right in the eyes and nodded “yes”. We sat down next to Lily, took a deep breath, and the three of us slid with all our might down to the bottom where we rolled to a stumbled, but proud stop. We walked, well, slid, down the ramp and were again on solid ground. “Let’s do it again!” Said Lily. “Yeah!” said Layla. This time, she climbed by herself.

The mayhem continued for about another half hour. The girls and I knew we had won our immunity award, and could not get kicked off the island. The rest of the day faded into surrealism. We watched as other children bounced and fell, bashed heads then got up and bounced some more… we listened to the continued sound of crying and wailing. My mind wondered what the motivation was to have such a birthday party. Was the reward of the large wheelbarrow of presents worth it?

Suddenly, a voice came over the loud speaker saying it was time to exit the bounce room and head towards the party room. Again, no directions were given, but our party tracking senses were still in high gear. Once we entered, the children were all sat at long tables with empty plates in front of them. I was not sure what this challenge would be, but it soon became clear. There was a stack of pizza boxes sitting on the counter, with no designated person handing slices out. A decision was needed quickly – do I get up and start serving the hungry and increasingly restless children, taking the risk of offending the host or going out of her sequence, or do I stay put and wait for the obvious cues on when to take action? Fortunately, another mother got up and started handing the slices out (parents of the birthday children nowhere in sight). I then saw other parents starting to pass out drinks. This was the real challenge, for I saw in their hands, bottles of caffeine laden soda. I knew my children did not drink soda, and I didn’t really want them to start, but how was I to get myself across the room to make sure they knew they shouldn’t have it? I found a way to politely excuse myself from the discussion I was in, and slyly meandered through the crowd of lingering parents and wandering children, over to Lily and Layla. “Lily, when they ask you what you’d like to drink, please chose water or milk.” I was happy with the success of this because I went unnoticed. However, the mistake was then obvious. Her glass was already full. I looked cautiously into the class as I heard her say “I already did mom”, then saw the wonderful white of milk in her cup. I praised her for making good choices, and knew she’d be fine from this point on, on her own.


When we left, the girls were awarded with their reward; little bags filled with goodies and plastic jewelry. I asked the girls to not open their bags until we arrived home, and they listened. Once home, the bags were opened. We noticed a little thing inside, and we could not decipher its purpose. I took it in my hands. It felt like wax. I continued to feel it, and the top suddenly broke. I looked inside and it looked like it had little candies inside. I handed it to Layla and then went about doing a little tidying up. I came back and to my dismay there were little bits of colored paper all over the family room. The little thing did not have candy inside… it had confetti! Lily and Layla had both opened the evil thing and had spilled the confetti everywhere! The last challenge and I did not even know it was occurring!! But again, I was prepared. I grabbed my most powerful vacuum (yes, I have a few) and sucked that darned confetti back to the eternal darkness from whence it came! I was not going to be defeated!

This last challenge left us all very exhausted. We all cuddled up in bed, watching their favorite cartoon, mystery solving pup, and in no time, they were asleep. I turned off the t.v. and listened to the light rain that had just started. I held the girls close, took a deep breath and smiled. We battled through some major challenges that afternoon, and we made it. Not only that, but Lily and Layla exhibited wonderful sportsmanship, and compassion. They were surrounded by packs of crazed children, and they remained energized, but calm. They played and ran, but watched out to make sure they didn’t hurt anyone else. To see that was worth any challenge that could have been thrown at us. So who won Survivor – Mommy Island? Aw, come on, would I be writing this if it wasn’t us?!