The Day We Bounced Through a Downpour (and Definitely Peed Our Pants)

There are moments in parenting that feel like a slow clap for your soul. Moments where you know—you just know—you got something right. Recently, that moment found me soaking wet, laughing hysterically, and probably a little bit pee-soaked…on a trampoline…in a rainstorm…with my two wild, wonderful “nature kids.”

Our now-sacred after-school routine goes something like this: pick-ups from two schools, a mandatory stop at “Gator Tails” (our nickname for Tailgators gas station), and a winding drive home where both kids remind me that they are, in fact, outdoor people.

So naturally, we ended up on the trampoline—the holy grail of backyard bonding. It’s our unofficial therapy center. A bounce-and-boo-hoo recovery zone. A place where scraped knees, big feelings, and random shrieking can all coexist peacefully…ish.

But that day? That day was magic.

It started with a sprinkle. The kind where you pull your hood up and pretend it’s no big deal. My calves were already screaming from the relentless “Jump with us, Mom!” when the skies opened up and dumped what can only be described as apocalyptic joy upon us.

Did we run inside?

Nope.

We did what any unbothered, questionably sane family would do: We kept bouncing.

We bounced and slipped and shrieked and slid. We high-fived because, as a team, we decided the rain counted as our nightly bath. (Soapless? Sure. Spirit-cleansing? 100%.)

Meanwhile, our doggo lost his ever-loving mind. Apparently, my daughter’s high-pitched squeal is the canine equivalent of a siren, and every time she giggled mid-jump, he responded like he was on backup vocals. Soothing? Not quite. Hilarious? Absolutely.

And then, the golden moment.

Soaked to our socks, pants sagging with puddles, my son beamed and shouted, “This is my favorite memory ever!”

Cue the slow-mo mom-heart explosion.

Because, yeah. We were drenched. We were probably all a little pee-soaked (hard to say, really—it was raining that hard and we were jumping A LOT). But we were also connected. Laughing. Moving. Playing. Together. No side-eyes. No tattling. Just full-body joy and some seriously questionable air quality thanks to the infamous “fart jump” (a family original—don’t ask, just bounce).

In that moment, I silently high-fived myself and then the universe. For the reminder that this—this—is what matters. Not the laundry. Not the schedule. Not even the impending bedtime negotiation.

And for my husband, who once suggested buying that trampoline even though he knew he'd be dragging it across the yard like a giant metal turtle every week to mow—thank you. You gave us a memory that will outlast any grass pattern.

At Girl Scouts, we had a saying: There’s no such thing as bad weather. Just inappropriate clothing.

So here’s to showing up in whatever clothes the moment requires. To playing in the rain.To laughter that makes the dog howl. To making space for “favorite memories ever.”

Even if it means you smell like a wet fart-jump afterward.

If you’ve got a trampoline, use it. If you’ve got a backyard, dance in it. And if you’ve got kids, let them see you play. The mess is temporary. The joy sticks.

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Mini-Message:

The mess is temporary. The joy sticks. When you show up for the wild, soaked, goofy moments—you’re making space for connection.

Munchies:

Backyard Banana Boats

Halve a banana lengthwise, spread a thin layer of nut-butter (peanut/almond), sprinkle with crushed granola and mini chocolate chips, then wrap in foil and heat briefly (oven or grill) until warm and gooey.

Movement Exercise:

“Puddle-Splash Jump Flow”

Stand with feet hip-width apart.

Inhale & jump up tall, arms reaching.

Exhale & land soft, knees bent, then raise arms out wide as if embracing the rain.

Do 5 jumps. Then repeat 3 sets.

Afterwards, take a slow, big step forward, reach both arms overhead and sigh out the exhale.

Music Reco:

“Here Comes the Sun” by The Beatles — because after the storm, after the splash, that moment of sun-break feels just like hope, play, connection.

Mind-Bender:

Pick a moment this week where you felt “soaked,” uncomfortable, or stretched (literally or emotionally). Now flip the story—what if you chose to hold that moment, to lean into it as a memory-maker instead of running from it? Now, finish this sentence: “What that moment really taught me is…”

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Snack-sized sentiments, full-sized feelings. Follow @MoveMakerMedia for more everyday chaos and emotional clarity.