THE bridge

In the Lowcountry, we have the Ravenel Bridge, sometimes called the Cooper River Bridge, but most people just call it THE Bridge.   It has it’s own website.  It’s a pretty bridge; it’s on a lot of Charleston merchandise, second I would say to Rainbow Row.  People run on it – I even saw a woman running the steep incline part while pushing a double stroller, so the bridge obviously has magical powers.  There is the Cooper River Bridge Run with some 40,000 participants (crazies, I say).   We walked on it at 11:00 pm with 12 middle school girls wearing glow jewelry during a lock-in a few weeks ago.   It has some pretty impressive views from the top.  For us, it’s Pops and Grammy’s bridge because it’s the way we get to their house….you know, over the river to grandmother’s house we go.

As we were out and about yesterday, we caught the bridge from several different locations.

The view from Waterfront Park in Charleston

The view from Shem Creek Park in Mt. Pleasant

The view from Memorial Waterfront Park in Mt. Pleasant

The view from the bridge, on our way home after a busy day

time

Today was a great day.  I have come out of the funk I was in and even let go of Taylor’s hand a few times today while we played around Charleston.  Thanks internets for letting me getting it out there – it really did help.  That and some really good quality family time.

Playing in Pineapple Fountain at Waterfront Park

Looking for dolphins and boats on the pier at Waterfront Park

Looking at crabs at the Shem Creek Park

It also helped to know the timing of everything yesterday.  My mom sent me a text last night:

You aren’t going to believe this.  I looked back at my phone calls and times.  I remember putting on my wet watch and telling you it was 20 til 11 after we got back from the tidal pool.  I called Pops at 10:46 to say we couldn’t find Taylor.  That was after 911 was called and after we searched for what I thought was 15 minutes.  I called them back at 10:52 to say she had been found.

Y’all, that’s just crazy.  This means that she was missing for less than 10 minutes, even though it felt like hours.   She was still sitting on the blanket in front of us when my mom told me what time it was.   And several minutes passed from the time we found Taylor until Grammy called Pops back (we were a otherwise preoccupied squeezing the four year-old goodness out of Taylor, crying, and hugging strangers).  For some reason that makes the guilt soften a little.

But poor Pops and Russ.  They were doing some work on Pops and Grammy’s house 15 minutes away when Grammy called.  Russ was on a ladder.  We are glad he didn’t break his legs when he jumped down.  Then they jumped curbs and broke other traffic laws trying to get to us as quickly as possible.   Which, unfortunately was not quick at all, because they got caught by the draw bridge onto the island.  But, fortunately, Grammy had called them before then, so they didn’t get out of the car and swim across.

The memory is starting to feel much less raw now, so that’s good.  And I have a newfound appreciation for my girl and our time together, even when she’s driving me crazy.  It’s all a dreamy gift.

blink of an eye

The four of us are all home, relaxing on a Sunday afternoon.   After the events of yesterday, it feels like a dream.  I’m still not convinced it is real.

Yesterday morning, I packed all of our beach going supplies – beach toys, towels, snacks, and the “get back in the car bag” with a gallon of water and washcloth to rinse of the sand and fresh towels to dry off with, and a change of clothes for everyone – and I got sun screen on the kids and myself – then I sent Taylor in to get Caleb dressed (she does that everyday now – she seemed so grown-up yesterday morning)….I was prepared like a boy scout for our day at the beach…except I wasn’t at all prepared for what our beach day turned out to be.

We had a lovely start.

We played in the sand and four-year-old-knee deep in the water.  Then we went for a walk down to the tidal pool where both kids got a little more adventurous in the calmer waters.   We collected shells, and walked back to our spot to find that some kind soul at Station 22 1/2 moved our chairs, shoes, and towels when the tide came in much faster than we anticipated.  Those people at Station 22 1/2 are my absolute favorite people in the world.

Because shortly after we arrived back at our spot, the sand was blowing on Taylor’s legs and stinging, so I told her to go stand in the water a little so it wouldn’t hurt.  She was no more than 5 feet from us.  I got up to reposition Caleb so the sand wasn’t blowing in his face.  I glanced at Taylor, who was standing ankle deep in the water.  Then I sat back down.  I have no idea how much time had passed, not much though I’m sure…but the next time I glanced at Taylor, she was not standing there 5 feet from us, ankle deep in the water.  I didn’t see her anywhere.  I jumped up and ran toward the water.  My mom jumped up and grabbed Caleb and ran to the water’s edge.  And we both began yelling and screaming Taylor’s name and repeating the phrase, “Have you seen a little girl – I can’t find my daughter – she’s four, has pigtails, and a pink bathing suit – her name is Taylor”  Within seconds there was an army of kind strangers searching for her and asking others and calling 911.

I surveyed the beach from left to right…nothing.

I surveyed the water in front of me….nothing.

I got in the water, tried to rationally judge the current and undertow to discern where she might have been pulled.  My greatest fear.  Had a wave knocked her over?  But she was only ankle deep.  But the waves were getting stronger.  And the tide was coming in quickly.  And the undertow was getting stronger.  There was a storm off the coast afterall.  Was she scared?  Where was she?  Oh, God, where was she?  Oh God, help me….help me…And I made my way up and down the beach in the water trying trying to feel for any sign of her…stopping periodically to ask strangers for help and to scan the crowds and the water.

I couldn’t find her.  I don’t know how long it was, it felt like an eternity.  Maybe 20 minutes at the most….but it was an excruciating 20 minutes.   For the last 10 of those, I was convinced she was gone.  I tried to hold on to hope.  to pray.  But I couldn’t see her.  It had been too long.  I couldn’t see her.  I was running around the beach and in the water like a lunatic with the most horrible thoughts going through my head.  My lungs and heart felt like they were going to explode.

My mom kept asking people for help.  By this point, she would say “I’m looking for a little girl” and they would respond, “so are we”.

The police SUV finally arrived with its blinking lights – then a jeep with jet skies for the water search.  OH, GOD!

I was devastated.  The hope was getting smaller, but the prayers were getting stronger and more desperate.  I was out of the water; stumbling back toward the rescue team… delirious.

Then the most beautiful wonderful man in the world ran up to me and yelled, “They found her….she’s ok….she wasn’t in the water”  And I sprinted those 200 yards back to where the police SUV was and saw her, safe and sound and dry, and I could not run fast enough.  I hugged her; she felt like a dream.

And all of the adrenaline that had been holding back the tears set them free and I lost it.  She kept asking, “mommy, why are you crying?”  I couldn’t speak.  The officer was trying to ask my name and address and phone number.  I couldn’t speak.

Some kind soul came and offered me his towel because I’m sure I looked like a drowned rat from the ocean and the tears.  I said “I’m ok” – he knew I wasn’t and insisted.

After a few minutes, we got up to walk back down the beach together, the missing four year-old with the pigtails and the pink bathing suit with her lunatic mother to make sure that all the people who were looking knew she had been found.  As we walked back so many strangers hugged me.  With utmost genuineness, they told me they were so glad she was ok.  I’m so thankful for them.  They are the ones who found her.   Two young guys in their 20s knew that we were looking and saw her…asked her if she was ok.   She told them she was looking for her mommy, and they said they knew where her mommy was and brought her to where Grammy was waiting.  Heroes, right there on the beach…just relaxing on vacation on a care-free holiday weekend.  Heroes.

We had been looking mostly to the right because that’s the direction the current and wind were going.  But she was found to the left.   She was found.

As I look back, it’s all crazy. Rationally looking back, there was little chance she was in the water because if a wave had knocked her down and she was struggling in the water, there were so many people there, that someone would have seen her and helped her.  But in the moment, I was not so rational.  I was in survival mode.  I wasn’t looking that hard on the beach because if she was on the beach, she would be ok….but if she was in the water….

It doesn’t seem real.  All last night, every time I would wake up (which was often) the images would flash back into my mind and I would think it had been a nightmare…then I would realize it was real, and I would weep.  Still now, I can’t think about it without crying.  And I can’t not think about it.  I’m hoping by getting it all out here that I’ll be able to stop thinking about it….to stop playing the what ifs? in my mind.

Today, I am so thankful….thankful that Taylor is ok.  So thankful for all those strangers at Station 22 1/2.   Thankful for the guys who found her….for the guy who ran to tell me they had found her…thankful for the guy who offered his towel…thankful for the many women, moms themselves, who hugged me tightly…thankful for my mom who held on tightly to Caleb and searched in earnest while I was a lunatic…thankful for Caleb, who must have sensed something was wrong, because he stayed there in my mom’s arms, not trying to get down at all, which is very unlike him.

We are so lucky.  I have heard those news stories of the unlucky ones.  I can’t imagine.  I experience a fraction of the despair for 10 minutes, and it was unbearable.  For those parents who experience the fullness forever, I pray.

context

First of all, the picture could be a stand alone post, because, come on, those are some cute kids – all looking at the camera and looking happy at the same time – a first in their 18M of coexistence.

But I need to tell you the story behind the massive bruise between Taylor’s eyebrows.

It’s massive.

And noticeable.

On Wednesday, her teachers asked her what happened.  She responded “I ran into Daddy’s booty”.  They of course were confused and needed clarification when we arrived to pick her up.   Russ begins the story by saying “I wish”.

Whathadhappenedwas we went to Trader Joe’s on Tuesday night.  Taylor was pushing around one of the kid sized carts and got a little too eager and starting running with the cart.  Russ stopped in the produce section, Taylor followed him, but did not stop.  So she ran the cart into his backside.   The cart stopped, but still she did not.  The momentum caused her head to smack into the handle of the cart.   She starts bawling, and Russ tries to comfort her telling her “It’s ok, I’m not mad – it was an accident.”…thinking she was crying because she felt bad that she hit him, not realizing until a few minutes later that she had a large red knot on her forehead.

So, her story was true, but she left out the cart part, leading people to wonder if her Daddy in fact had rock hard hind parts.

laugher fills this house

Hey, I’m still here, kind of.  If you heard a big sigh of relief yesterday, it was me after my sabbatical was approved for this summer.  Holla!  Blogging more often will be among my sabbatical goals because it helps me keep my sanity partially in tact.  But for now, it’s going to be sporadic city around Better Days parts.  I could not, however, not blog about Taylor’s hilarity this morning.

While I was in the shower, she crawled into bed with Russ.  When I came out of the bathroom and the light shown into Russ’ still asleep eyes, he rolled over and put his arm around Taylor and gave her a big hug….to which she replied, “Uh, you’re disgusting!”

I laughed SO hard.  When she realized that she may have hurt his feelings, she clarified, “But you smell good”  – apparently his arm had landed on her mouth during the hug and she was noting that he tasted disgusting…maybe…or maybe she was just trying to spare his half-asleep feelings.

Then, at breakfast, we were all sitting together, which is a rarity in the morning.

Taylor mused, “You know, black is the darkest of the colors.”

Me:  “Yes, that’s right.  Which is the lightest of the colors?”

Taylor: “Yellow”

Me: “Hmm….what about this (pointing to her white napkin)?”

Taylor: “Oh, white”

Russ: “Actually I think she may be right because white isn’t really a color”

Me:  “True, white is the absence of color…Taylor, you may be right”

Taylor:  “That’s because I know everything.”

LAUGHTER ENSUES

Me:  “Taylor, you are funny”

Taylor:  “I know”

I’m glad she’s a confident girl.

Later on in the meal, she declared, “It’s like we’re in a meeting”.  Funny, smart, confident, and also a PK.

________________________________________________________

In other news, Caleb LOVES syrup:

A LOT

He also enjoys climbing: