Yesterday, the family and I returned from St. George Island. Our extended family vacations there every year. Last year and this year, we were in a house called A Blue Heron (which is not blue):
One of the biggest stories of the week has to do with my adorable 15-month-old niece, Peyton, who was apparently very content each day floating around the pool in her Princess float (Peyton, sadly, went back to Charleston before Tenley and I made it to St. George). So content that everyone had come to assume that, except for occasions when she would list to one side or another, she was “good to go.” That worked out fine until the strap broke between her legs. Fortunately, the strap malfunction occurred when she was right by her dad; she was silent as she began to slip below the water. This story reminded me of Tenley’s 6th birthday party, which was held at Mary’s pool in Thomasville. Because I was so worried about liability and a private pool, I had hired a lifeguard to keep watch on everyone. After the party, the lifeguard was released to get dressed. When I returned to the pool area, I saw my 3 year old son being fished out of the pool by his father! He had been in a floatie, and had tried to reach for a flower/sponge thing that had been one of the favors. He fell out of the float and started sinking while his dad and his aunt were talking a foot away. Hm. So ironic since I had hired a lifeguard! All’s well that ends well in both stories, but Peyton’s experience did make me think about the “Drowning Doesn’t Look Like Drowning” link I have been seeing on many Facebook accounts recently.
Wife of one, Mom of two, Friend of many. My pronouns are she/her/hers.