Spinning Yellow: We're Back!

It's true. We made it down to Bermuda and back all together and we are fine! My mother's trip, that she planned for a year, turned out pretty much the way I expected.

There was fun in the sand and at the pool. There was a lot of eating and drinking. There was way too much togetherness. There were snippy comments about each other's kids and how we are not parenting correctly. There was lugging stuff around and disorder and chaos. There were adorable sibling and cousin moments. There were funny, good times; wonderful memories made. Details to follow.

But first, the aftermath. When we arrived home on Tuesday late in the day, I knew I wouldn't be able to make it to Running Class. Matt had to mow the lawn and the kids were starving with nothing to eat in the house. Everyone was exhausted and just plain sick of each other. I think we were all pretty happy to be in our own beds and in separate bedrooms again.

Wednesday was spent first running, in an attempt to get back on the wagon after a week of no formal exercise. Then it was laundry, cleaning the car, scrubbing down all items that were used during the trip or touched afterwards before proper hand washing had occurred. Matt asked what put me over the edge when he saw me on my hands and knees dunking items into a soapy wash pail. "Was it the cockroach crawling across the hotel room the last day?" "No, it was the stupid soft pretzels you gave the kids on the ride home that they ate with filthy dirty hands and got salt and crumbs every where." Well, that, and also that their feet were black from something in the grass in Bermuda (goose poop?) that was in their Crocs and just plain gross.

After all that cleaning, I next had to tackle mail, newspapers, bills, e-mails, TiVO'd Sopranos and Entourage (hey, I have my priorities straight), grocery shopping and appointments (my doctor, Scott OT). By Thursday night, I fell into bed promising myself I would get back to the blogging today.

At 3am Scott ran into our bedroom and scared the crap out of Matt and me. I yelled out and then Matt jumped up screaming. Our reaction made Scott panic. Complete chaos. I am a light sleeper and can usually get my act together quick in an emergency, but I was so taken off guard, it took me a long time to calm myself down. And Scott couldn't understand why we reacted so crazily. Well, he's had bad dreams before and come into our room, but something about the way he ran in and how tired and completely asleep we were, just threw us over the edge. Scott asked to stay in our room and I couldn't possibly say no after we had contributed to his horrible night's sleep. Plus, I know from experience with Scott, that a trip like ours, along with trying to get back into the routine at school and the OT that day, he was thoroughly overstimulated. I felt so badly for him. He did tell me, in his mature kid way, that he knows the dreams aren't true, that there aren't any monsters, but that it was still scary.

I NEVER let the kids sleep in our room. But, like I was saying, this time, I had to make an exception. The reason why I don't ordinarily is because no one sleeps. Which is exactly what happened. Matt finally went to sleep in Scott's room so then he didn't hear his alarm go off at 5am, waking me up once again (I never really settled down anyway). So today was just a day of sleep deprived catch up. Finally I am writing, at 10pm.

Scott had a good time today imitating us jumping around and screaming. He said he was sorry for scaring us and would try not to run into our room again. I couldn't really tell him that I was the one who felt sorry. For doing too much with him and pushing him over the edge. It is just the way it is sometimes. I guess the best I can do is help him cope better. I shared some of my favorite nightmare stories with him (good material for another post). Letting him have a good laugh at my expense is the best thing I can do sometimes.

It seemed to do the trick. He is asleep right now.

In our bed.