Today was Babyboy’s third birthday! It was also special as it was one of only a handful of days within the past few months that Hubby and I were both home at the same time, for any amount of time. Except Hubby had to leave early to go to work this evening. So we had a small, family lunchtime birthday party at Nana’s.

We’ve been coaching Babyboy to answer the question, How old are you? But he hasn’t caught on so well. He has, however, caught on very well to the whole cake concept, like a cake with a candle in it and singing Happy Birthday. He had a mini birthday party at his last EI behavioral group session, and we made cupcakes for that. Of course he had one the night before the party, and then the day of the party, and the the day after. We’ve done the cake/ candle/ sing thing about five times now leading up to his actual birthday!

We cook and bake alot in this household; it’s become one of our fun/ bonding activities. Babyboy can go to the pantry and pull all of the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, brownies or cupcakes… So last night he helped me make a batch of cupcakes, in anticipation of today’s REAL birthday.

So we lit the candle and sang Happy Birthday and he was delighted. He (and Babygirl) opened fun gifts and played. And then I gave him a balloon.

It was a blue Mylar star-shaped balloon, and he loved it. I totally should have got one for Babygirl too, because she wanted that thing. They managed to sort of take turns pulling it down and batting it around, Babygirl trying to hug it to her face, and Babyboy experimenting with its levitational strength.

When we went home, I tied it to the handle of a gift bag and made sure I kept it far from the kids while we were outside. So it wouldn’t get lost.

But when we got out of the car at home, and I had several gift bags and my purse plus two kids and it was raining.. somehow I must have stepped on the end of the ribbon and pulled the slip knot… and the blue Mylar star balloon floated up, up, up… and got stuck under the pointy attic eave of our house.

Babyboy and Babygirl both cried out in surprise and sadness as it lifted, and then stood gaping and pointing and exclaiming as it wafted around under the eave.

There was an attic window within reach of that blue ribbon. I calculated.

Could I get the kids (and all the stuff) into the house and get all of us to the third floor and open the window and reach out far enough to grab the ribbon and save the balloon?

I decided. OK, up up up, let’s go! I tallyhooed and up we started.

Just then a breeze curled around and the balloon drifted free, dipping down close to us, then lifting up, up, up and away, down the street, and out of sight.

Of course I had two hysterical kids on the landing.

Okay, okay, balloon all gone, Mommy’s fault, sorry guys, it’ll be okay… I got the door unlocked and shepherded everyone and everything into the house and immediately set about pulling out gifts. Look, the construction Lego set, and this dumptruck! Ooh! And they did get distracted, and all was well again.

Still. I lost the balloon. I last did that as a child. It’s such a sad event, losing the balloon. How often do you get to enjoy a balloon, a real one with helium in it?

I’m still bummed.