All in a mother's days work

SINCE we've lived in Australia, I've been in the sea how many times? Let me recall.... ermmm... twice.

The first was when I was under the influence and didn't care that I was fully dressed and soaked to the skin. The second time was to save my youngest son's life.

The latter, I realise, sounds melodramatic but that's exactly how it is. We went down to the sea for some bank holiday beach fun and took advantage of the dry weather before the forecast storms headed down.

The boys and their dad were out quite far as I watched from the comfort of my recliner but it was shallow. They were far out but I could see that they had no problem standing up and enjoying the water.

So as I chatted on the shore, I spotted youngest son leaving the flock and heading back. The clouds, I noticed, had suddenly gotten blacker and the waves a tad higher. And stronger.

As he swam towards the sand, I could see him trying to swim but his efforts were getting him nowhere as he bobbed around among the waves.
I called to husband to keep an eye on him, but then something inside my head told me I had to kick off my shoes and just get in there to him. Fast.

At this point, husband realised something was wrong from the fact that I had actually got into the water, in my clothes, and was swimming for my life towards the little fella.

For every two strokes forward, the waves slammed me back one but I shouted out to him that I was nearly there and that he just had to wait a bit for me. I plucked him from the water and carried him back to shore - wishing that the clothes I'd opted to put on this day, weren't quite so transparent when drenched!

So, a little shocked, we bundled our things together and threw them in the boot of the car and headed home for a hot tea with four sugars.... followed by a beer to chill the nerves.

The dangers of swimming have now shown their true colours to this family. I'm glad this has happened if only to show the children how easy it is for life to be taken away. With one parent in the water and one on dry land, this time we all lived to tell the tale. But it could have so easily been a whole different story.

But the laugh is on me for the time being. Before my hair had even had chance to dry, I'd been dubbed Baywatch, Bondi Mandi and even Pamela M-anderson.

One to tell the grandchildren though I suppose...