paranoia

Lake Powell is a beautiful and amazing place and oodles of fun. But there is no denying that it can be a dangerous place, if you're not careful. Especially for little kids. You hear about the tragic stories and your heart always breaks while you file the story away for future paranoia. But a couple of years before Tagg was born, we witnessed it first hand.

We were cleaning up our boat, Liquid Courage, in the slips on a sunny Sunday morning in October after a quiet, perfect, romantic weekend celebrating his birthday with just the two of us. All of a sudden people were running down the docks screaming "Kamberlie", asking if we had seen a 3-year-old little girl with blonde hair. We hadn't. The first time they ran by, we went back to cleaning and packing. But after the second fly-by, when the tension in their voices had ratcheted up and we figured that she maybe hadn't been wearing a life-jacket, the panic in the air was palpable and we joined the search, even jumping in the water and diving below the docks following little trails of bubbles. After 45 minutes or so of futile searching, the docks went eerily silent. Like the countryside in the mid-West before a tornado. Unnerving.

I will never forget looking across the slips to the houseboat where her family was. It was kaddy-corner from us, the boat was still pulled about half-way out of the slip so volunteer searchers could swim around the edges and under the boat. There was a young blonde man on the top deck, head in his hands, staring bleakly at the water below. It's a picture that I will never, ever forget. The traumatic certainty. The indescribable despair. The unspeakable guilt. They all twined together to form a perfectly tragic tableau that I am certain that young man and his family did not deserve. Scott and I ran away. Fast. We did not want to be there for the inevitable. Hope had rushed from those docks so quickly that she pulled the very air you breathe with her and left only an unquestionable vacuum of tragedy in her place. As we race to our car, they gave us a lost child flyer and then searched our car as we left the park. The divers found her body a week later. Like the picture of that man on the top of the houseboat, Kamberlie's name and smiling blonde mischievous face is etched in my memory for all time.

So, needless to say, the thought of taking our precious 1- and 3-year-old babies to the lake was nothing short of terrifying. How do you keep them safe for a whole week with all of the water which is hundreds of feet deep in places, the engines with their carbon monoxide fumes, the heat, the bugs (you remember the Arachnophobia story, right?), the slides, the cliffs, the sun...so many hidden dangers for a paranoid mom! Heck, our nephew found out the hard way a few years ago that he had a pretty sever peanut allergy. One stray peanut M and M, 3 hours from medical help and we were dousing him with Benadryl and hoping we wouldn't be summoning LifeFlight. You just never know.

So we debated not even bringing the kids, but it's a family trip and we are all family. So that's when it's time to kick in it into parenting overdrive. So we got geared up...the more shit you have, in my opinion, the safer you will be, so we:

• ...bought two little Pea Pod sleeping tents from One Step Ahead so the kids would be confined at night - no sleep-walking out the back door and into the water. We'll deal with the therapy for fear of confined spaces later. The tents were awesome! The kids actually had a ball playing in them before and after night time. And they fold up to the size of an over-sized Frisbee. Highly recommended!
• ...brought carrying-slash-containment devices...the Maya wrap and a Baby Bjorn backpack. Perfect for Sloane. I would face her out from my chest in the backpack so she could see what was going on and still have my hands free to help put stuff away or grab Tagg's hand. And the Maya sling is great if you want to put the baby on your hip but still have use of your hands. And sometimes your sad little biceps just get tired of holding 25 pound babies on your hips.
• ...invested in some Toddler Tethers. I only say "invested" because much like the stock market, sometimes you put money in expecting a great value and you don't get much out of it. The little wrist strap was okay for Sloane who just couldn't wear her lifejacket 24x7 (believe me, I tried. it's just mean), hates holding hands because she's so independent and loves to run...straight for the water. The tethers gave her a little freedom for our evening walk on the sandstone to throw rocks and gave me a head-start if she bolted for the water with no officially-sanctioned flotation device. Which she did. 
  
  For Tagg, we had heard that people strap one end from kid-ankle to adult-ankle...just in case. But between the tent and the fact that he was utterly exhausted every single night, we never needed to worry about more confinements for him. Frankly, I wouldn't buy these again. Not easy to clip on to a life jacket and you don't seem to get much more value than if you just tied a rope to your kid or hooked them up to a dog leash. 
• ...overpacked sunscreen, bug spray and 1st aid kits. Plus a book about how to deal with emergency toddler medical issues. Shut up. I didn't have cell service so no access to Google and WebMD, which usually help me function as my own cheap physician. We did find out that the foaming Coppertone Waterbabies sunscreen is a huge hit with the kids. They will put this stuff on, by themselves, all day long. Tagg still begs for it. Mwahahaha! Evil plans at work.

So we had plenty of safety gear but frankly, I think it's mostly just having our paranoid-parent antenna up and at high alert all day and all night long, all the time. Your radar is constantly scoping the surrounding area for potential danger - they could fall off that, eat that, go underwater there, skin's looking a little too pink, where's the hat, when did you last drink water or juice. You screech "NO," "STOP," "CAREFUL," and holler cautions all the live-long day. Diversionary tactics are key. Leave the death-trap, sweetie, and come play with some cottonballs. Wait. Dammit. Those are bad too, if you put them in your mouth!

The parental relay was in high-efficiency mode. Me: You have Tagg? I have Sloane. Scott: Yes. I have Tagg. You have Sloane? Me: Yes." And then you're on duty till the next hand-off.

I'm a pretty paranoid person on a good day, but this was like Olympic-quality baby patrolling. But the good news is that we made in through the trip without one sunburn, one band-aid...not even a diaper rash. Very happy about that!

So we got back from the Lake and we were both exhausted! I wonder how soon we will be able to wind down and get back to normal. Or maybe this is the new normal.