I can use another two weeks. Not to relax. I was, in fact, totally fine getting back to work on Friday. But it would be nice to have more time to settle back in at home. For me, my wife, and the little one. She's probably finding it most difficult adjusting back to MST. That's Megan Standard Time.
Think about it. We plucked her out of the only place, the only home, she knows, and set up shop in another place, another home, for two weeks. That's not a long time to you and me, but to a baby, to this baby, that is one eighth of her life. 12.5 % of her existence has now been spent on Long Beach Island. Not a bad gig if you can it. But she's ungrateful. Miserable. Cranky. Surly. And she's very good at voicing her displeasure.
We had her on a nice eating, sleeping, playing schedule. The routine worked for us, worked for her. Now it's blown to bits. Ripped up like a floundering game plan at halftime. Because when we were on vacation, she was on vacation. It didn't matter what time she woke up, "she's on vacation." It didn't matter how long she ate for and at what time. "She's on vacation." It didn't matter when she took her crucial 2 hour afternoon nap. C'mon, say it with me now, "she's on vacation."
Well, the credit card bill from that sweet trip, those relaxing two weeks, just came in the mail. It's long, it's itemized, and it's costly. And mommy and daddy are going to be paying dearly.
Take today, for instance. Monday. Our Monday. Daddy daughter day. Yay! No. Booo. Call it manic Monday. I wish it were Sunday. At least then my wife would be here to lend a boob. Penelope is so sleepy and generally pissed off, you can't play with her. She's even skipped feedings to sleep. My daughter's now a narcoleptic. But she's not a pleasant narcoleptic. She signals her need for a nap by throwing a fit that would make Veruca Salt blush. "But daddy I want an Oompa Loompa now!" OK, honey, bed time!
Maybe it was all of the people coming in and out of the house, and ultimately, being in her face. Maybe it was our late nights, or our beach excursions. Our social schedule when we down there. The parties, the dinners out. She wasn't crazy about the beach for the most part, especially when it was windy. But you know what? What fun would it have been otherwise?
We saw the warning signs. She wasn't happy about being off schedule when we were down there. But we only have a schedule because it suits us and her. And we're the grown ups. So we win. But now, sadly, we lose.
The laundry, the food shopping, the unpacking, the miscellaneous other crap, all needs to get done on top of getting Penelope back on track. Hopefully by next week, we all will be have reestablished ourselves. For now, it's time to pay the bills.