This is no joke.
For the fourth time, I have left my home-passport country and traveled the grueling 20-something hour flight to this foreign land. Brian always says the flight is going to be "bad or really bad." He's a realist.
This trip wasn't all that bad. Three kids slept an appropriate amount. Everyone's in-flight headphones worked. We had enough diapers, melatonin and snacks. Our lay-over in London put us at a gate next door to a comfy Starbucks! John picked us up for the airport, where we got ALL our bags and enjoyed weather cooler than Atlanta.
We got home Thursday morning, dusted off the forgotten toys, made everyone scrambled eggs and took a recovery 3-hour nap.
7 hours later...we woke up. Hey, no guilt in that. First day is survivor mode. Don't you know, "East is beast, west is best?" And we just traveled significantly east. We ate dinner (lunch?) and went to bed again at 8pm.
Let me not bore you with a detailed timeline of the continued-stubborn-wakefulness and irresistible slumber that plagued the five of us (seemingly at five completely different circadian rhythms) for the next week. Not that I could accurately recount it. But let me say it always involved someone "hung-y", someone singing to her stuffed animals, someone yelling "stop it!" and much ignorance of our doorbell.
On day 4, I went down with a welcome-back stomach bug. (I was wondering how I would lose my American comfort-food happy pounds.) I meekly sipped Gatorade and a battled the bug with a Z-pack. I awoke 24 hours later..... to Brian sleeping beside me and the house quiet. It was 3pm. Where are the kids? I hear a text on my phone and scroll past the many "How are you feeling now?"s to see "Tell Brian I can keep the kids longer. They are doing great!" from
Maggie. Well, (seriously!) praise the Lord! Because I don't think Brian could have actually awoke to get them unless he had a good 2-hour warning.
Spoiler alert: This post has no moral. I'm not doling out advice on jet lag recovery. Simply recounting the "beastliness" of it all. Today, day 8, we are doing almost normal. Ok, Brian took a nap and went to bed at 8:59 (almost made it to 9!). I'm doing great. At least that's what my 2-hour-ago espresso is telling me.
For the fourth time, I have left my home-passport country and traveled the grueling 20-something hour flight to this foreign land. Brian always says the flight is going to be "bad or really bad." He's a realist.
This trip wasn't all that bad. Three kids slept an appropriate amount. Everyone's in-flight headphones worked. We had enough diapers, melatonin and snacks. Our lay-over in London put us at a gate next door to a comfy Starbucks! John picked us up for the airport, where we got ALL our bags and enjoyed weather cooler than Atlanta.
We got home Thursday morning, dusted off the forgotten toys, made everyone scrambled eggs and took a recovery 3-hour nap.
7 hours later...we woke up. Hey, no guilt in that. First day is survivor mode. Don't you know, "East is beast, west is best?" And we just traveled significantly east. We ate dinner (lunch?) and went to bed again at 8pm.
Let me not bore you with a detailed timeline of the continued-stubborn-wakefulness and irresistible slumber that plagued the five of us (seemingly at five completely different circadian rhythms) for the next week. Not that I could accurately recount it. But let me say it always involved someone "hung-y", someone singing to her stuffed animals, someone yelling "stop it!" and much ignorance of our doorbell.On day 4, I went down with a welcome-back stomach bug. (I was wondering how I would lose my American comfort-food happy pounds.) I meekly sipped Gatorade and a battled the bug with a Z-pack. I awoke 24 hours later..... to Brian sleeping beside me and the house quiet. It was 3pm. Where are the kids? I hear a text on my phone and scroll past the many "How are you feeling now?"s to see "Tell Brian I can keep the kids longer. They are doing great!" from
Maggie. Well, (seriously!) praise the Lord! Because I don't think Brian could have actually awoke to get them unless he had a good 2-hour warning.
Spoiler alert: This post has no moral. I'm not doling out advice on jet lag recovery. Simply recounting the "beastliness" of it all. Today, day 8, we are doing almost normal. Ok, Brian took a nap and went to bed at 8:59 (almost made it to 9!). I'm doing great. At least that's what my 2-hour-ago espresso is telling me.
I'm so glad to hear that you are on your feet again, and I don't think you were doling out advice, as you say, I have done the east is beast thing for many years, but only a 3 hour difference, so could really use the advice, for future reference! I've been praying for you all, and it sounds like my prayers have been heard! And for that, I rejoice! So thankful for all you all are doing, and thank you for providing so many great ways to be praying for you. Blessings! Love the girls' fundraising idea, I'm inspired!
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