Phew. I feel as if I'm coming out of some sort of physically painful and mind numbing fog, that horrible fog known as jet lag. A jet lag made worse by the company of a toddler's jet lag. Which has been made more difficult by the fact that Dan is far away, and I'm lone she-wolf for the next week and a half.
That's right folks, for those of you who follow along on the ole Instagram account, Les Duggans made the trip across the ocean about five days ago: Dan to work at the lab in Chicago, and Oswin and I to visit my parent's at the beach in Southern New Jersey. We were really excited to make the trip, but there were moments at the beginning where I had just wished we had remained back in SwitzerFrance, to be completely honest. Despite the fact that I have my parent's to help me out here, there are times where Oswin only wants Mama, and other times where she is very definitely missing her Papa. She did a great job during the 9 hour flight, no crying, no fussing, and was a trooper for the two hour ride that followed from the airport, but this kind of travel can be hard when running the show solo. I honestly do not know how you single parent's do it, you amaze me and you are my heros.
But now the day is seeming brighter, mostly because I think Oswin and I are through the worst of the jet lag. We're actually going to leave the house today to walk down to the beach and see the ocean, and I'm even thinking about going for a run today or tomorrow on the boardwalk, which means I'm beginning to feel a little more like myself. We're missing the hell out of Dan, but this trip is flying past, so I know we'll see him soon.
On that note, let me tell you a story. On Oswin's first trip to the United States, about a year ago when she was a wee 5 month old, Dan spent the majority of our trip working in North Jersey, and Oswin and I were with my parent's in South Jersey. The trip was beyond exhausting and I spent half of it in tears, between dealing with my own jet lag, the jet lag of my infant, and dealing with the rigours of keeping my nursing supply up to the level it needed to be. Dan had planned to come down and spend the weekend at my parent's house after those first five days of work, and I welcomed the idea with desperately open arms. I needed a break. I needed a hug. I needed some time to eat a meal and drink a cup of coffee without interruption. Dan pulled up in his rental car and we were all eagerly anticipating how excited Oswin would be to see her Papa, whom had never spent 5 days away from our little dragon. Dan walked in the door, Oswin took one look at him and WAILED. Wailed like a freaking banshee. She was so angry at him, you could almost hear her screaming the words "You bastard! Where have you been?!" through her infant screams. Anytime he came near her or held her she screamed at him, but if she was handed off to me she immediately stopped, and commenced scowling at him. Girlfriend was pissed. This continued for two solid hours. My mom cried, because she felt so bad for Dan.
The following morning all was well and forgotten, and she was back to cooing and loving on her Papa like nothing had happened. Philadelphia is obviously very much in her blood: we need to yell, we need to get it out, we need you to know that we are pissed at you and here are all the reasons, and then we're cool. But man oh man, hell hath no fury like little Smaug's scorn.
Which leads me to this interesting tidbit: when we meet up with Dan at the airport, we will not have seen him in two weeks. TWO WEEKS. We won't see him until the terminal. May God have mercy on his soul (and the souls of all those waiting to board our flight and hear our potentially screaming and pissed off toddler).
But that's worry for a week from now. Instead I'm going to concentrate on heading down to the beach with my little dragon, and finding some really great shells to collect. Maybe we can offer them as a peace offering to Dan once the yelling has subsided.
A la prochaine friends...