Flying with kids - coping with jetlag

We recently had a three week trip back to the UK to visit the grandparents. Having now had a week at home trying to cope with the normal day to day routine whilst suffering serious jet lag, we feel we need a holiday.

A friend questioned why anyone would actually choose to fly for 24 hours with children when there are beautiful holiday spots so close to home. I agree, but when it is our choice to desert our homeland and live thousands of miles from the rest of the family, we have to accept that a regular trip home is part of life.

Somehow, going over, the jet lag was not so bad. In fact for the first week, the children went to bed before 7:30 without a fight or a whinge or even a request for extra stories. Bliss. Coming back to Australia, they are also asleep before 7:30, but wide awake at 2 o'clock in the morning, ready to party. I am falling asleep in their beds reading bed time stories, and have accepted I have no evenings this week. I too am awake in the middle of the night, but for a sleep deprived mother I tell myself to pretend I'm having a lie in, and can quite happily stay there until I eventually fall back to sleep. Only to be woken again at 5am.

It won't last forever, I know, but it does put a damper on the holiday mood. Drugs have been suggested, as they were for the flight, but so far I have resisted. I cannot quite justify it, as I would be drugging my children in order for me to get a good night's sleep. For despite the lack of sleep, the kids still somehow manage to have their usual annoying amount of energy during the day. I was fully prepared to allow Holly home from school early several days this week, picturing my poor child falling asleep at her desk, but no. In fact, 3 days after returning to school she won the student of the week award for her class. She's obviously better in small doses.

PMT or Post Natal Depression

When we got home on Thursday, Holly sat down to take her shoes and socks off. I asked her to keep her socks on, as on cold days, our wooden floor boards are freezing and their feet become little ice packs pretty quickly. Holly ignored me and removed her socks and then removed her brother's as well. Normally, I would be fairly calm about this, I would tell her I asked her to keep her socks on and explain why. I wouldn't force them back on, but I'd tell her to come back if her feet get cold and put them on. She's not one to be in discomfort in any way without complaining! And I would put Mikey's socks back on, as he can't necessarily judge or tell me the condition of his feet.

This Thursday however, was PMT Thursday and I got mad. I yelled. Nothing particularly offensive or constructive, just HOLLY. WHEN I ASK YOU TO DO SOMETHING, YOU SHOULD DO IT. But inside I was seething. This child was completely ignoring me and I could not find the words I needed to express myself. Words that she would listen to. I don't ask her to do something just for the hell of it. There is generally a logical reason and when mummy says to do (or not do) something, mummy should be obeyed. I felt so mad at her, I wanted to squeeze her till she hurt. Instead she went upstairs sockless and Mikey was so shocked at the tone (or volume) of my voice that he came and sat down and his socks went straight back on.

The point is, for maybe 26 days or so of the month, I can be patient, calm, think things through, try to explain and give some leeway, but when the hormones are raging, I feel grumpy and touchy and get annoyed more easily and cannot cope as well with the minor disasters kids throw at you everyday.

It made me think, this is what it was like every day for a year when Michael was about 3 months and Holly was in her terrible 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 phase. So were my hormones all over the place? Was I on permanent PMT or was it Post Natal Depression, or was I just tired all the time? I get tired now and I don't generally want to squeeze my children till they hurt, but in that year, there were regular evenings when I can safely say they pissed me off something chronic. 'Will you just SHUT UP' became the way I'd react. Not meeting my own standards for parenting, but needing in some way to outwardly express my inward anger.

I sought help on a number of occasions, but I'm not very good at asking for it directly, so I wanted people - the midwife, the doctor, my friends, to notice and let me know it was ok. In hindsight, how I can expect these busy people, to notice my frame of mind, I don't know. A fault I've always been guilty of I think. Like the time I went home for a week before I got married, hoping someone would ask me if I was doing the right thing, so I could say 'no', but not having the guts to bring it up myself, as it would be admitting a failure in some way. (I ended up getting married and divorced within a year, but that's another story....)

Anyway, I am not good at admitting I need help, or even knowing that perhaps I should get it. Eventually at Mikey's one year check up, the midwife suggested a visit to Tresillian would be beneficial to get Mikey's sleeping pattern sorted and maybe address some terrible two behaviour. Unfortunately I'd left it a bit late. One place I called didn't take babies over one, another wouldn't take siblings, and leaving Holly at home for a week would have exacerbated the problem, not helped with it. So we didn't get any outside help.

But, when I stopped breastfeeding Michael at about 14 months (he was a real booby baby..) and he finally started sleeping through on a reasonably regular basis, things gradually improved. I got my energy back and a bit more sleep and began enjoying my kids more.

I still think, was that PND, or just tiredness? I have a friend who definitely had post natal depression. She couldn't get out of bed in the morning and felt physically ill with it. Compared with that, this was nothing, but maybe there are different degrees of depression. If there was a next time (which there's not going to be!) then hopefully I would do things differently and get more help.

As it is, on PMT days, a couple of hours alone is a good option. Not always possible, but at least I know why I feel like I feel and that it won't last long...