The Shore: Part 1

We were all so excited to go to the shore.  I couldn't wait to see the kids reactions to the sand and waves. It was the first time Dylan had gone since he was two months old and Ryan's first time back since he was about two and a half.  At that time, Ryan was terrified of the waves and water and spent the entire time in a shady, sandy spot digging near the ocean grass, as far from the ocean as he could get.  

I had a theory that Dylan would be different.  This spunky little guy loves water and sand. I had a feeling I would have to be very very watchful with him.  

Ryan allowed his ankles to get wet but continued to be fearful of the water, just as I had expected he might be.  And as I had theorized, Dylan had no fear.  He enjoyed running into the waves and jumping in the surf.  He enjoyed squishing the sand between his toes, curling and uncurling them.  He enjoyed grabbing handfuls of sand and watching them sift through his fingers. 

Ryan and Dylan were digging a giant hole with Aunt Larissa and filling it with water.  I was standing by the hole, which Dylan was standing in, when my mom approached and began to discuss the dinner and evening plan.   Ryan had been running into the little ankle deep waves to fill his bucket with water and return to dump the water into the hole.  A few minutes into talking about our evening plan, I realized Ryan had not returned to put more water in his hole.  I scanned the crowd of bodies in the water and did not see him.  Mom watched Dylan while I took a few steps along the beach on each side, looking.  No Ryan.  I did find Larissa.  But Ryan was not with her either.  Where was he?? Now I was getting really...really worried.  Perhaps he ran back to our umbrella and towels.  I made my way back, where my dad was sitting at our spot.  He had not seen Ryan either.  Where was Ryan? I was feeling a touch of panic.  It was extremely crowded on the beach....did someone TAKE him? He was JUST there, and then he was gone.  Was he in the water? Did a wave knock him over? Did he panic? Was he drowning right this minute? Would I have to leave that day WITHOUT him? That thought made me feel sick to my stomach.

We were all looking for him and there simply was no sign of him.  Minutes had been ticking by, it was time to report it to the lifeguard.  Feeling like a horrible parent, I told the lifeguard, "I can't find my son." 

The lifeguard had just gotten off of his radio.  "Is his name Ryan?" I exhaled in relief, "YES." 

The lifeguard asked what he was wearing for confirmation.  I told him.  He told me, "I can take you to him. He's down there...." he pointed many yards down the beach to the next lifeguard post standing distant along the shore.  HOW DID HE GET THAT FAR DOWN THE BEACH? I wondered.  AND SO QUICKLY. 

As we walked the lifeguard told me someone saw him wandering around by himself and took him to the lifeguard post.  A concerned mom.  They met us halfway between the posts, this concerned parent who found my son, and a second lifeguard.  Ryan had a look of worry but did not look like he had been crying.  I was able to thank everyone.  

We have talked about what to do if he is lost before or if someone tries to take him. I have always told him to find a mom with kids. That a mom with kids is a safe person to go to.  I am very thankful he was OK.