We spent yesterday traveling from sun up to sun down. We were up early to pack our suitcases, and then we hit the road for a five hour drive from Hilton Head to Atlanta. We hit inevitable Atlanta traffic, which put our drive closer to six hours, and nearly broke both my bladder and my spirit.
After an hour of letting Cullen stretch his legs by running around the airport, we all boarded a plane for a torturous five hour flight from Atlanta to Seattle. We arrived home just as the sun was setting. It was brutal. Probably our hardest and longest travel day to date. When we originally planned our trip, all the pieces of our multi-stop journey seemed to make perfect sense. In hindsight, I had only really considered the whole “getting there” part of the trip. I had not considered the fact that we’d have a road trip and a long flight all in one day on the way home. It was ugly.
I will spare you the details of our flight. It was not pretty, and my husband swore we were never leaving Seattle again somewhere over the western plains. We finally arrived home with a dreadfully tired child (who didn’t sleep a wink on the flight), and both of us ragged from travel and time changes. We all passed out in bed around 9pm – early for a normal Saturday night (who am I kidding?), but late for folks who had been on Eastern time for two weeks.
This morning came early – too early. Somehow despite not sleeping all day and going to bed late, Cullen still decided to get up at his “normal” time…in a different time zone. Which meant 5am talking and whining in the crib, ready to start his day in still-dark Seattle. We coaxed him to sleep til about 6:30am, but it was clearly over after that. So we all got an early start to our Easter morning. Because of the early wakeup, he tried to nap around 11am – several hours earlier than normal. We tried to get him to push it later, but it wasn’t happening.
And because of the early nap time, he didn’t sleep as long as he usually would. He was up too early and in a wretched mood. He refused to be put down, and insisted on being held by me for the first several hours that he was up. I knew he needed more sleep, but I also knew he wasn’t going to allow for any. So we cuddled, read, and made the best of it.
We were all pretty drained by early evening, so we made a super early family dinner and called it a day. Cullen ended up in bed around 7pm, only about half an hour earlier than usual. I’m crossing my fingers that he slowly transitioned back to Pacific time over the course of today, and we’ll all get a few extra much needed zzzzzz’s tomorrow morning.
We love traveling and don’t plan to stop any time soon, but man is the time change rough. Previous trips have gone better than this one, so I’m not sure what has changed. I don’t know if it was just a particularly long, hard day of travel, or if Cullen is getting older and less able to adapt to something as drastic as a three-hour time difference. Time will tell (no pun intended). Here’s hoping he wakes up on the right side of the crib tomorrow!