Ahhh… How a mom can enjoy a five minutes of peace is quite incredible. Free time has become so precious. Five minutes can seem like a two weeks vacation, maybe even more on a bad day. My son has arrived at the toddler age and although he’s a very good little boy, once in a while he’ll have a very ‘busy’ day. Today was one of those.
We’re day 3 days post travelling through seven time zones, aka major jetlag. AP travels pretty well and adapts fairly well to jetlag as well, although he does follow the rule of thumb of recovering one hour per day per hours of difference, which means this time he should be back to normal after seven days. So, this morning we were up at 3:30am, which is pretty good considering that he was already asleep at 4pm the day before – and we tried EVERYTHING to wake him up in the evening, with no success.
The day started out pretty good and he was quiet enough that he didn’t wake up his dad, who got up at around 5 to go for his run. After that, AP turned into a touch everything-especially what I’m not allowed storm. While I was on the toilet, he came in and grabbed whatever was in the garbage bin and everything went flying in the air, and on the bathroom floor. Including a diaper full of poop that opened and spilled on the floor. Great. At 5am, jetlag or not, I’m not in the mood. Thankfully, other very disgusting things which were also in that bin did not end up on the floor.
By the time I clean up and wash my hands, here he comes again from behind me, and in one motion walks to the toilet and trows my cell case in the water just like he’s dunking a basketball. Score! We’re in a hotel room so the toilet does not have a cover. He seems pretty proud of himself but I’m not happy and he knows it. A few moments later, I go to the toilet again and although hesitant at first, he walks in. While I try to keep him from sitting on the floor, he shakes his water bottle upside down spilling half of it on the floor. Are you kidding me?
I managed to go for breakfast and he was fairly quiet then. We then needed to go shopping for shoes and clothes for him. Ha! Catastrophe. The stroller was like a demon that was going to eat him: he just had to get out at all cost! In the store, he would just disappear to play hide and seek, or reorganize the whole store by taking down all the shoes on display and emptying the boxes. Super.
By 2pm I’m toasted, he’s toasted, and although I don’t want to go inside because it is insanely beautiful out, we have to go put him in bed for a nap. Did he want to go to sleep? Nooooo. So he cried, screamed, threw whatever he had in the crib. After more than an hour, he finally fell asleep. Good grief. Five minutes of peace for me, finally! Worst part is, by the time I finish writing this, I’ll be starting to miss him and look forward for his waking up. Ha!