“Mommy poop!”

I was really surprised with our flight from Seattle to Los Angeles.  Hannah confined on my lap for 2.5 hours, not being allowed to walk up and down the aisle like we do on the long haul flight….  I was having nightmares just thinking about it.  Our LA to Seattle flight was after the long flight from Sydney, so she just slept, buggered from sleeping only 2 hours the whole flight.  This time though, the flight was at 5:30pm.  Not time for sleep yet, just time for play.

Luckily, a lovely lady from my women’s bible study group suggested I bring Play-Doh.  I hadn’t actually considered bringing Play-Doh before that, but I went out and bought some the day before we left on our big trip.  As soon as we reached cruising altitude and the seat belt sign was switched off, I got out that lovely little jar of blue Play-Doh.  Hannah sat on my lap, poking, prodding, and squishing the Play-Doh on the tray table.   She played with it for an entire hour.  I don’t think one single thing has grasped her attention for one whole hour ever, in her entire life.  Apart from sleep of course.  And rough-housing with Daddy.

When we got to L.A.  I had to…um…go….  What can I say, when you are going to be travelling for 24 hours door to door, you are bound to have to poop sometime.  Ugh.  I hate pooping in public.  When I was little, we’d go camping and I couldn’t poop the entire trip.  An entire week.  I’ve gotten much better since then, but still I have issues pooping in public.  Having Hannah makes it easier of course.  If there is a smell, no one knows it was me, people assume it was her.  It’s one of the many benefits of being a parent.  If I accidentally break wind in public, loud or not, I can blame Hannah, and no one will ever know.  And being a pregnant woman, by the third trimester, I’m sure this will not be an unusual event…

I do prefer to get one of the one room only toilets so there aren’t a million people waiting in line, knowing how long you’ve been in there, possibly hearing the plop, knowing what I am doing in there.  No.  Thank.  You.  I found a parents room.  A one room, one door, lock when you go in, parents room.  It was occupied.  Humph.  We waited.  And waited.  No one was coming out.  Maybe they had a public poop phobia too (yay, I’m not the only one!).  I waited some more.  Nothing.  I waited for almost 10 minutes.  Hannah kept saying very loudly “someone in there!  Someone in there!”

I gave up.  We went to the normal, a million stall, way too many people waiting in line, knowing how long you’ve been in there, women’s bathroom.  We took the disabled stall, the only one I could fit in with the pram.  All was well, it was loud in there, toilets flushing every 2 seconds, hand dryers and water taps running all the time.  No one could hear anything.  I still didn’t feel too comfortable, but you know, it wasn’t as bad as those 3 stall toilets where you can hear the person next to you breathing.

“Mommy pee.”  Hannah said.

“Yeah, mommy’s peeing sweetie.”

But then I was still sitting there.  Going in public makes it harder to actually…go.

“Mommy poop!”  Hannah exclaimed loudly.

Oh. My. Gosh.  I nearly died.

“Mommy going poo-poo!”  She wouldn’t stop.  She seemed super-excited that she knew what I was doing and that she could vocalise it for all to hear.

“Shhh…”  I said to Hannah to no avail.

I couldn’t do it.  How could I possibly poop in public when my cheeky little daughter was actually announcing that fact to the world?  Sigh.  I was about to have a toddler sleeping on me for many hours on a long flight, not to mention a little boy baby who enjoys kicking my insides.  Add to this a full intestine, and I was going to have a very uncomfortable flight.  Humph.
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Toddler in a new time zone

I’m so glad I read up on how to help toddlers adjust to new time zones.  I googled it and found this awesome blog.  I read all about flying with a toddler, adjusting with one, what to pack, pretty much everything I could find really.  If I hadn’t, I think I would have gone a little batty when Hannah decided to wake up at 9pm for some food and a play.

The first night we got here, I was buggered and falling asleep on the couch by 8:30.  Fine, more like 8.  I got ready for bed and was about to go in when Hannah started crying.  And then screaming.  I left her for a while to see if she’d go back to sleep.  She didn’t.  Instead, she got louder and more insistent.

Fine, I’ll get you up. I really wanted to go to sleep…. sigh….  I got her up and she was like a new toddler.  Ok, not new, but back to her old self.  Not cranky, whingy, or irritated.  I don’t know how that happened with only 2 hours of sleep, but whatever, I was going to go with it.

“Dinner.”  She looked at me completely seriously, like it was normal for a toddler to have dinner at 10pm.  I suppose it was normal, back home it was 5pm.  Sigh, I made her some dinner.  She didn’t eat the dinner I tried to give her before I put her to bed.  She ate.  And ate.  And then ate some more.  She played.  She giggled.  She made lots of noise and kept my dad (who has to get up at 2:30 in the morning to go to work) up.

11pm.  Sigh.  I REALLY needed to sleep.  I hadn’t slept since that broken two hours of sleep on the airplane many, many hours before.  I gave her some more milk (in hopes she’d drink it and fall asleep) and put her back to bed.

She cried.  And cried.  And cried.

Finally, 12:30 rolled around, and she fell asleep.  12:30 huh?  Well what do you know? 12:30am here is 7:30pm back home.  Guess what 7:30 is?  Yep, Hannah’s bed time.  She’s not silly.

It didn’t help, of course, that daylight savings started (or ended, what ever) that very night.  12:30 became 1:30.  SIGH.

The next night, Hannah woke at 9:30pm (new daylight savings time that is).  I let her cry for a while.  She didn’t go back to sleep.  Humph.  I gave her some milk and laid her down again.  She was quiet for a while.  Drinking the milk, I assume.  Then she cried.  And cried.  And cried.  I got her up.  She ate. And ate. And ate.  She played.  That night, she particularly enjoyed pointing at the large Australian Shepherd dog that my parents have and excitedly saying “DOGGIE!” as she giggled.  She did this at least 200 times that night.  At least that was so incredibly adorable and the look on her face made me so warm and fuzzy inside that staying up late again was pretty much worth it.  Pretty much.

This time, I patted her belly for a while so she wouldn’t scream bloody murder when I put her back to bed. I didn’t really want my dad to miss out on too much sleep and then crash on the way to work because Hannah was crying half the night.  It worked, she calmed right down, got really tired and then went to sleep on her own without crying.  Pat on the back to me for my mommy skills.

The next morning, Hannah actually ate breakfast.  It kinda surprised me since that was the first day since our arrival that she actually ate breakfast.  I don’t blame her really, I was trying to feed her at like 8am, which was 2am Sydney time.  I wouldn’t want to eat then either.  I got really excited.  Maybe that means she is getting used to the new time….

That night, 9pm rolled around.  Hannah started crying.  Sigh….  I turned her sleepy music on (remotely, it’s through the baby monitor.  I know, one day I will have to wean her from it.  I don’t want to think about it….).  A few minutes passed.  Silence.  Relief sigh.  But now I was used to staying up until way too late.  I wasn’t tired.

10pm.  Hannah started crying.  Cringe.  I thought this getting up thing was over.  Plus, if she got up now, what time would she go back to sleep.  Sigh sigh sigh.  I turned on the sleepy music.  Silence.  Phew.  She went back to sleep.  She slept all night that night.  I slept all night that night.  I didn’t even have to get up to pee.  Thank you pregnancy bladder for being kind.

Last night, Hannah didn’t get up either.  She ate all her meals during the day, had a good nap, and went to bed just fine.  But she woke up many, many times.  Not because she was still getting used to the time difference, but because she now has a cold.  I could hear her snuffling in her sleep, the snot clearly blocking her nasal passages.  Then she’d wake up, cry for a bit, and go back to sleep.  She must have woken about 10 times last night.  Oh, and did I mention we are in the same room?  I could put her in my brother’s old room, but there is too much stuff she could reach from her cot that is dangerous, so I put her with me instead (in her cot).

Today, I bought a vaporiser.  I have one for her at home, and it works wonders.  If she has a cold, I put the vaporiser on, and she doesn’t wake up throughout the night at all, or if she does, it’s once, twice at the most.  That down from like 10 times each night.  It’s so worth it, for both of us.  I bought the one at home for like 40 bucks, but here, I got the same brand for 14 dollars.  Yeah, that’s right, 14 dollars.  Definitely worth it for a good nights sleep.

In more cheerful news, Hannah and I have been having a good time (when she’s not sleepy, then she gets grumpy and says “home.”).  Hannah went for a horsey ride on my mom’s horse.  She played outside and especially enjoyed frolicking in the riding arena, going over the bridge and digging in the sand.  We went to Walmart, where she found lots of dollies to play with in the toy aisle and refused to pick a dress for Grandma Lois to buy her.  Grandma Lois ended up buying about 4 since Hannah wouldn’t decide and she couldn’t either.

We are really glad for google video chat though, otherwise we wouldn’t be able to see Aaron while we are here.  Hannah gets all excited, pointing at the computer screen and happily exclaiming “Daddy!” and giggling.

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Gold Coast – Part 4: Use the lounge

I’m so glad I noticed the little ad for the Jetstar lounge on my e-ticket.  We were so tired from the events of the previous evening.  Not to mention Hannah woke up at 2am screaming for water.  I gave her a cup full of water which she ravenously gulped down in less than a minute (complete with slurping sounds).  We were not in the mood, nor did we have the energy to be chasing Hannah all around a crowded airport.   Plus, I didn’t want to have to carry her around everywhere as I had already carried her 1.2 kms (with one arm, while pushing the pram with the other) from McDonald’s to our accommodation because she was crying in the pram and I felt bad because she was sick.

Hannah in the kids area of the Jetstar lounge

Honestly, I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want to go to the Jetstar lounge at the Coolangatta (Gold Coast) airport.  It’s not one that you need to be a member of, you don’t have to fly in business class to get in, they have a kids area, food is included in the price, there is wi-fi, showers if you want one, tv, etc.  And, it’s only $15 each (kids under 12 free).  When you compare that to buying a meal each from one of the airport fast food places, it doesn’t seem too bad.  You’d pay at least $10 for some crappy fast food meal, and you don’t get the nice lounges to sit on, nor can you go back for seconds, thirds, or even, if you’re particularly hungry, fourths.  There was sushi, pasta, wraps, bread rolls with fillings to put on if you want, desert, pancakes (made by a really cool machine at the touch of a button), coffee, tea, hot chocolate, beer and/or wine, crackers, and fruit.  What’s not to like??

Hannah asleep on the plane

Another angle of the uncomfortable airplane sleep

Asleep on the train

Poor Hannah was not herself that day.  She fell asleep on the plane with her bum on me, and her head held up by Aaron’s hand, body over the arm rest.  It looked so incredibly uncomfortable!!!

She fell asleep on me on the train, and then nearly fell asleep on the bus too.

That night, Hannah got a fever of 39.3 celsius. I freaked out a little and called the after hours doctor (the hospital said to come back if she started vomiting again, or if she got a fever), who came remarkably fast.  He checked her chest and ears and all of that, said she’d be fine, she had a virus, and told me to give her electrolyte pops the next day.

She was super clingy and lacked energy for a few days, but then she bounced back to her old happy, cheeky, rambunctious self.