Every Parents Worst Nightmare

We decided to go to Alum Creek beach today and have some family fun. And fun it was! Scott manned Zachary while I handled Lilly, and Abby was her big girl self. I had my doubts about how smoothly this experience would go, but I was pleasantly surprised by how nice the beach was and how the kids took right to the water. About forty minutes or so into the fun, Zach decided he wanted to go over to the playground area so I took him over and Abby came along as well. Here's where the whole beach scene turns into a friggin' nightmare.

We're swinging, we're swinging, we're swinging and then he wants to go play with Abby on this big tugboat shaped jungle gym thing. So we go and he's in and out of the boat, up and down the stairs...I peek up over the edge and ask him if he's Popeye the Sailor Man (and of course he'll never know who that is/was.) Then I turn and walk around to talk to Abby, she and I were counting the stairs she had jumped down. A minute passed (seriously. I didn't even turn my back or talk to anyone else...I was fully engaged with my kids here) when I realized I hadn't heard or seen Zachary. So I call for him thinking he was inside the tugboat. No answer. I call again and start circling the tugboat. No answer. *panic mode is at level yellow* ZACHARY!? Where are you!? I start asking the kids if they see him and the lady standing nearby. No one saw him leave the tugboat, so we look inside again and call for him...no answer, no Zachary. As I think back, I'm pretty sure I couldn't hear anything at this point and I remember thinking "this is like a movie and it's not really happening" but it most certainly was. My child was missing. I'm frantically looking this way and that way, across the parking lot, over to our blanket where Scott and Lilly are, searching the crowd for his bright orange swim trunks. ZACHARY!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? Then I looked toward the beach, straight ahead from the tugboat and I spotted his shorts knee deep in the surf - no life jacket. I screamed "Oh F**K!!!", tore of my hat, sunglasses and flip flops and ran like I've never run before. I was like a F-ing gazelle - leaping over blankets and half naked sunbathers screaming my sons name and although it took me a total of fifteen seconds to run the distance it felt like I was running through marshmallow fluff in a dream. Zachary was happy as can be waddling his butt right out to a boat that had docked right at the beach. I got my hand on his arm and I've never been SO overjoyed and seeing red at the same time. I didn't know whether to jerk him around like a whale with a baby seal or to snatch him up into the crook of my neck and never let him go. I actually scooped him up and walked him to the sand, then leaned down to catch my wits and breath while I kept a firm grip on him. He knew he was going to be in trouble too b/c he immediately began chanting "No go home, Mom. No go home!"

I walked him over to the park to retrieve my things and Abby, whom I'd completely left behind in the dust. The mom who had helped me look for Zach said "I really feel for you" in a seriously sweet, sympathetic way that made me burst into an ugly cry. You know the one. That nasty can't stop your lips from curling back over your teeth cry and you heave loud cries that are neither cute nor controllable. I just stood there with my left hand gripping Zachary, my face twisted up in tears and my right hand in the air as if to say "please, I appreciate it, but don't say another word. I'm breaking down here." I was able to compose myself enough to thank her for her comment and concern, and walked back to Scott where I sat in the chair sobbing for joy that I hadn't completely lost my son to a stranger or drowning. And within a minute Lilly began choking on a Cheerio so I had to flip her over and smack her back to get it loose. I've had enough close calls with danger this week - enough for a lifetime. I'm really considering a life as a hermit. I've already got the chin hairs started (yea, it's some post 30 hormonal thing, but thanks to Sally Hansen hair removal treatments I won't have to change my name to Christopher.) I'll just stop waxing and let them grow until I'm too ashamed to be seen in public and have to stay in the house, away from that big, bad world out there.

So - Zachary is safe and not that I didn't know this before, but it's 110% concreted into my mind...when out in public with Zachary, my eyes are not to be taken off of him. This all happened within a minute or two. My son could have drowned within a span of a few minutes and it would have been my fault, and I'm sure that the Lord spared me this suffering. I am SO thankful and will not take the favor for granted.

I need a vacation.


Here are a few pictures of our beach excursion, which despite the emotional trauma was really a fun family thing we intend to do again. :)








The Mostly Immobile Child








The Runaway Kid









The Half Responsible One