Barren Mare

Import duties

I'm sorry for the longish silence; the days of our trip flew past and then it was time to head back. They say the relaxing effects of a holiday wears off within 24 hours of returning home. In this case, I'd estimate it to be something more like 2 hours, 14 minutes and 36 seconds.

We flew across the water from Florida last Friday; unfortunately the trip home was so long and sleep-deprived for all of us that, together with the consequences of jet lag and daylight savings time, it has taken until today to resume some semblance of a normal routine around here.

Before we left, I blithely reassured Knox that the trip home would probably be easier than coming over, because Botany would sleep most of the way. Oh, how the sleep gods smite the smug. On the day of departure, Botany (who up until then had taken to sleeping in until 6am most days) treated us all to a 4.30 am wake up call. Unable to nap very well, she was a grizzly, grumpy mess most of the day. The five hour layover in Newark airport was particularly fun. If you were passing through and spotted a couple taking turns carrying a child up and down the bank of pay phones so she could push all the buttons, for about three hours, that was us.

Knox and I hung on for grim death; by the time we boarded our flight for the last leg back to Scotland, it was just past her bedtime and she was in meltdown. We wrestled her into her jammies and sleeping bag and I produced the inflatable nursing cushion and my best boob. As we took off, she fell asleep. And then, wouldn't you know it, after about an hour they turn on all the lights, serve dinner and generally make about 50 announcements over the PA system, thus waking up the baby (who I had stupidly presumed would sleep through all of that).  She didn't go back to sleep until 1am. Mind you, once she got finished with climbing up and down all over the seat and our laps, she did sit quietly leafing through the in flight magazine in the dark for about an hour while Knox kept an eye on her. I was falling asleep at the wheel tired.

Upon arrival, Botany treated the immigration officials, not to mention the rest of our fellow passengers with a meltdown so spectacular they let us jump the queue. Thank you, kind sirs, we appreciate it.

Since then, it has been a long slog to try to get her back on a normal sleep pattern. Coupled with the kind of uber-clinginess during the day not seen since she was about a year old, for some reason, despite being very tired, she had some sort of nasty regression- for the first couple of nights we experienced the sort of howling for hours on end if left alone in her cot that marked my last encounter with sleep training. Bedtime has now gotten a little easier (although she still stands up and whimpers briefly when I put her down and leave her- oh, how it tears me up when she does it) but naptimes are shot to hell. I can only hope that once she is back at nursery she'll remember how to go to sleep during the day on her own.

Bless her little heart, I'm trying to be patient but everything seems to be such a huge battle right now. Suddenly, my sweet baby has become this wildcat hell beast. She won't have her clothes put on and she won't let me change her nappy without a huge thrashing screaming mess. I can't pee or make dinner or otherwise leave the room for more than two seconds without her calling frantically for me. Everyone else is pushed away with angry little fists. Knox, who thought he had done some good bonding with her over the holiday, is feeling just a little rejected and disappointed. I know it will pass, probably quite soon. But I'm essentially feeling like a frazzled mess and absolutely dreading trying to get her ready for nursery and out the door tomorrow without having my eardrums pierced.

On the bright side, Botany has learned all sorts of interesting new words and phrases that I am sure will come in very handy in day-to-day Scottish life, such as manatee and turtle, along with "go fast! big bump! see boat! sit car! sit buggy! open door! push button!". I reckon with her penchant for speed and marine life, she's destined to be either a race car driver or a marine biologist; or possibly both. That's my girl.

Sunshine on my shoulder

This is a very quick post, as the time is approaching 10pm. Since our arrival in Florida, Botany has reverted to waking at 4.30am. Getting up that early for more than a couple days in row makes me feel as if my head has been slammed in a door, so I need to sleep when I can. On the upside, 4.30 am is a big improvement from waking at 3am, which she insisted upon doing for the first couple days of our stay. Today she was beginning to show the signs of a child who has been burning the candle at both ends for too long and I can only hope that by persisting with some semblence of a regular wake/nap/bedtime routine, we will eventually get back to a more humane waking hour for everyone. 

Oh, and speaking of timers, I had forgotten all the lights in my parent's house are set to go off at ten o'clock. Having just been plunged into darkness(bar the light from the monitor), I shall have to grope my way upstairs in the blackness, trying not to trip over squeaky monkey and the box of toy food.   

But first I will tell you that the flight itself was relatively painless. It's a long trip, to be sure, and we were all quite exhausted at the end of it, but Botany was very well behaved. As I had hoped, the novelty value of being on a plane carried us over the first couple of hours. Ooh, look, mini packs of pretzels! Play with the seatbelt! Big plane, big plane! Then, when she got rammy, it was time to begin doling out the books and new toys on an hourly basis. Thank god for sticker books and the portable DVD player. There was one meltdown, when I got up to go to the bathroom and didn't take Botany, because the fasten seat belt sign was still on, but I confess I didn't have to hear any of it over the THRUM of the jet engines. And when I got back, her tears were soon dried, although I think Knox's ear drums (and those of our fellow passengers) are still recovering. 

Since then- the beach (wheeee!), a trip on my dad's boat (wheeee!), eating lots of fresh strawberries (yummm!), pushing the doll buggy on endless laps around my folks' house (wheee again!). We are unfolding gradually in the sun and show signs of defrosting at last. It is most pleasing.

Trip the light fantastic

You know, I never realised just how many hippos appear in children's books until Botany became completely hippopotamus obsessed. She has a small stuffed hippo which we took along to the zoo one day last week. When she clapped eyes on the live pygmy hippo, you could practically see the synapses firing off in all directions in her brain as she made the connection between the two. There was a lot of pointing to the pygmy hippo and back to the stuffed toy, shouting "HIPPO HIPPO". She then refused to be moved from the hippo enclosure for, oh, approximately nine hours, even when the keeper came out and started cleaning the wallow pit which entailed the spraying of a great deal of water in our general direction, not to mention some unspeakable goo. Upon our return home there was a sudden intense interest in any books or pictures referencing hippos...and I say, there are surprisingly many in our collection.   

Anyway, having just finished moaning about Botany's ongoing sleep issues, she has flummoxed me this past week by waking up at 6.15 am three days running. Then this morning, the alarm actually got me up at 6.30, enabling me to get dressed and start my slapdash wash-and- makeup routine before she stirred. It was fabulous. Delighted as I am, I predict it won't last. I have this vague theory that it has something to do with my pushing the one nap a day regimen, a pattern which was today resoundingly broken by the nursery staff when despite my request, they let her sleep for nearly two hours, starting at 9am, followed by a shorter afternoon snooze. Argh.

Should the early waking hell resume, I am resolved that I will try the light-on-a-timer method. However, I've decided to wait until the end of March for several reasons.

Firstly, on Monday, Botany, Knox and I are boarding a plane to travel to Florida to visit my parents for a couple of weeks. I haven't mentioned this, have I?  No, I thought probably not. I'm very much looking forward to going. I haven't had anything resembling a vacation in a year. That might not normally be that big a deal, but it feels like it when the year in question was for the most part a complete ass kicker. I'm keenly anticipating some sun, the surf between my toes, building a sandcastle with Botany and a couple of nights of grown-up time away with Knox. 

Getting there, though. Ugh. The last time  we traveled to the States, Botany was an absolute angel, but she was a lot younger, more portable and far more easily entertained by, say, a packet of unopened peanuts in a foil wrapper. I've purchased her a seat of her own this time, as the thought of trying to contain her wiggly little body on our laps for the duration was essentially unthinkable, so there ought to be at least a bit of room for us to spread out some toys and books. I'm resigned to a lot of walking up and down the aisle if it comes to that; bearing in mind that the airline on which we are traveling on is notorious for turning on the dreaded "fasten seatbelt sign" and confining you to your veal crate for the duration.  

Anyway, her sleep is bound to be totally screwed up once we get there, and by the time we get over the jet lag, we will be due to come home. We don't start Daylight Savings Time here until the end of the month (in fact, three days after we get back). So the time differential will initially be less of a sharp shock, but a long adjustment over the whole piece, if you see what I mean. Basically, I predict it will suck serious ass for a bit and frankly I reckon there is no point screwing around with blue lights and timers until we are back on the beginnings of an even keel.     

Hippo hippo hippo.