Miraculously, our children were born good sleepers. Give them a square area, a blanket, and enough time, and they will sleep soundly through a hurricane. They get this from me, I believe, I once slept through an earthquake. It was an earthquake in New York City, but still fault line, earth shook, I slept.

When Thane was a baby and we ourselves were new parents, I was ecstatic that he slept through the dog’s barking and our not so quiet home. Then one day the dog barked really loudly right in his room and he slept on. Being the paranoid woman and mother that I am, I looked to be sure he was still breathing (check!) then proceeded to make as much noise as I could to see if he could hear (check!).

Mara has also been blessed with this gift of sleep. Apparently the new teacher at school asked, “Is she okay?” when she slept for four hours straight a few weeks ago. The response, “Oh yeah, this is normal for them.”

Now for the bad side…This gift of sleep has made me very intolerant of not sleeping. My fabulous almost two year old son has now decided that sleeping in other people’s homes is just not for him. If we are somewhere else, clearly there is other stuff going on and why sleep when we can be awake and having fun?!?!? Marry this with the newfound ability to turn doorknobs and we have a sleepless child that won’t stay in a bedroom when we are on vacation.

While in Canada, our nighttime routine was excruciating. It took two hours some nights and several sippy cups of milk to get him to sleep. Naps were not as bad, but still painful. The consensus was that after a few nights he would adjust and get back into the routine of sleeping at a new place. No. Not even close.

On an extremely bad night, when I really do think more than two hours had passed, we resorted to what I consider classifies us as either geniuses or worst parents of the year. When bedtime came, we suited him up in his pj’s, left the baby with the grandparents and headed to the car. Following his mother’s footsteps again, put Thane in a car and moments later he is in dreamland. That was halfway through the week. From then on, each and every night it worked and each every night we did it.

I am happy to report that we did not create a Frankenstein that could not sleep without the motions of a car, as I had feared. The very first night we arrived home, he slept like his normal self, like a log.

1 toddler
1 15 week old
1 woman about to turn 90
2 great-grandparents
1 house
1 bathroom
1 lost luggage
9 days

Mix it all up, bake at 3 degrees Celsius and you don’t exactly get a carefree week. We were pampered and….hallelujah….got some sleep. Thane and Mara slept upstairs with Gia and Pappou while Jay and I slept in the basement. The basement was cold. Too cold for the kids but perfect for us. The bed had this amazing comforter. We would slide into bed, feeling like we had a lead weight on us but in the crisp night it was perfect and let us slumber in this very refreshing sleep…until 8 am every morning.

The trip did not start out well but I tried to maintain a very cheerful and perky attitude. We awoke at 3:30 am to get to the airport around 2 hours later. Once there we checked in and made our way to some breakfast. Being the thoughtful passengers we are, we ordered some corned beef hash, creating a wonderfully wafting aroma for a small, recirculating air airplane. At 7 am they announced we were delayed. Our Detroit layover was only 30 minutes so we were hopeless to make it. They switched our airline (no not flight, entire airline) and our layover city (now Toronto) and we waited around for 3 more hours. Imagine being in the airport for 5 hours. Now add a 3 month old. Now add a toddler.

We survived the trip, made our connection, and arrived in Ottawa, sans 1 piece of luggage. One piece of luggage that had my breast pump. There was no sign of it either and it had been 12 hours since I last pumped when we arrived. I was hurting and Mara won’t nurse anymore. Four hours later we spent $400 Cdn and bought a new one. Five uses later my luggage arrived.

The week was spent with family, cousins and grandparents, neighbors and aunts. We missed the snow fall but were there for the thaw. We visited the Farm again. Thane had a blast. Mara, who had been close to rolling over the week before the trip, was not out of anyone’s arms long enough to try again. She was cuddled all week long. Gia watched Thane and Mara or just Mara several times, giving Jay and I some time to be out together.

Aunt Sue’s 90th birthday unfortunately saw her with a cold so we celebrated quietly at home.

Julie, the quintessential super-mom, thought Thane was old enough to be potty trained, and I, always eager to move to the next milestone agreed. Jay disagreed but humored me. Have you every tried to potty train a child in a house with one bathroom? That is not your house? Where there is no dryer to wash wet pants? Where there are two elderly people who have a touch of the flu? We tried it the next day at Julie’s house with the boys. Jay summed it up very well…at least Dimitri is not old enough to remember his American cousin with the wet pants.

All in all, it was a good trip. I am thrilled the kids got to spend so much time with their family and Jay and I got a bit of a break (thanks gia!).

The trip home was as relaxing as the trip there.

As we were checking in, Delta realized we did not have a passport for Mara. Apparently this is an issue. Apparently we should never have been allowed to leave the country. They are looking at me like they are about to turn us out when I state that we got in their country this way, what are they going to, stop us from going back to ours? (Really, I said that). They thought about it for a few minutes, called ahead, risked facing a fine and sent us on our merry way.

Well, our merry way ended at the border crossing down the hall. Whereas we had breezed through customs just over a week earlier, we were now scoffed at for not having a passport for her (did I mention I did not get her passport because I was waiting for her revised birth certificate with the Danaë spelled correctly?). Only they did not scoff. They looked, scanned our passports, snorted, then furiously started typing. They got up, walked away, came back, asked us to follow. They led us into a room and told us to sit. Talked to someone. Walked away. Walked back. Nothing said. I finally asked if it was because she did not have a passport and was answered with a gruff “yes.” Minutes ticked by and started to eat into our 90 minute window before our flight left. When we were finally addressed, I pleaded ignorance in not having her passport for Canadian travel. The guard walked from access door to desk to access door, apparently to some man behind the screen supervisor. She finally returned and looked ready to read us our Miranda rights but instead handed us back our paperwork with a promise to get a passport. I don’t have the stomach for a life of crime.

And yes, LM, lesson learned, get Mara a passport.

She was very close for a long time, rolling half way over and getting tripped up on her arm. Then we went to Canada for nearly 2 weeks and she was not out of anyone’s arms long enough to even give it a try. Sure enough, her first day back at school, Mara became mobile and rolled. I have seen her go from her back to her tummy but apparently she can go from tummy to back as well. Way to go, Mara!!!