S'no Problems

Greetings from the Great White North! G’day, eh!

If you are a little taken aback in an am-I-reading-the-right-blog? kind of way, don’t be worried. Yes, I am chipper for once. And relaxed. Still sleep-deprived, of course, because I have a TWO YEAR OLD WHO WAKES UP AT 5 AM. Ass. But yes, I am at my parents’ house, so that means I am well-fed (did not cook the meal), have coffee (did not pay for it), and someone else is playing with the cute but irritating little person. I also have someone kiss ME good-night and tell me to have a good sleep, which sounds goofy but is really, really nice.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ll be happy to be back at my cold dirty house this weekend. I miss watching ‘Hoarders’ while eating chips (gross, I know), and I miss my car and I miss, uh, that’s about it. The Ta is on that list, definitely, especially for Jelly, and maybe plentiful underpants, but there really isn’t a whole lot I’m missing out on. Not watching hours of garbage TV means I’ve read two books (‘The Hunger Games’ YA series, check it out, it’s awesome) and gone to bed earlier. And not snacked because I’ve had a filling, hot, balanced dinner. Sleeping in the icy dark basement means I lay in one position, dreamless and weighted down under piles of sleeping bags and comforters, safe and sound and snug. Did I mention my mum is doing our laundry right now?

There’s nothing quite like having a demanding oblivious needy person to make you appreciate everything your parents do. The first time I came downstairs after giving Jelly a bath, and realized the dinner dishes had been done, I felt like I’d won some sort of contest. Relief, a little guilt, and thankfulness is largely what I’m feeling here this week. It makes me want to try harder to be a better hostess when they visit me, for this gift of a nice, quiet, peaceful week. There are precious few times I really truly feel off-duty, largely a result of help from either The Ta or Miss D. Despite the fact that this week is still a work week, the evenings are slower-paced. I don’t have to rush and pick up Jellybean, hurry to make dinner, fight with her because we’re both tired and want attention, feel a need to have a few hours to unwind before doing it all again. JR has different toys to play with (my mum kept all the classic Fisher Price sets; she is going to have some serious Sesame Street Little People withdrawal when we leave) and a different routine (lunch with mama! Playdough with Nana!), and it’s interesting when she and I are together in a room, and she startles because there are sounds upstairs. Two people alone together in a house don’t get that much, I realized.

The trip here was gross, but such is air travel in January. With a toddler. A toddler who was woken up at 3:30 am to get to the airport. Fingers crossed the trip home will be easier, mostly because I can check the @#$% car seat all the way through. Don’t worry, it’s the spare, I don’t care if they break it into a hundred zillion pieces. Stupid 876 lb. Britax. Now if only I had some sort of electronic handheld device loaded with movies and games to keep us both entertained... no, wait, I left that in the @#$% American Airlines seat pocket. A Sony Playstation Portable, gone. 10 years I've been flying for work and have never once left something on a plane, undone by a tantrum-y toddler who made me hiss, 'I am going to call Santa RIGHT NOW if you don't stop that this instant!' Ugh.

As much as family can sometimes stress me out, I knew I’d made the right choice yesterday when I watched Jenny holler, ‘Nana!’ and dive onto her lap for snuggles. My parents are knocking themselves out to be awesome, and it’s working. The Move-to-Canada propaganda doesn’t affect me because I’m totally sold. It’s just a matter of when. And how to convince The Ta to move with us.