A bɔra kɛnɛ kan: 25.09.2017
Usually, it's easy for me to put the past few hours on paper and the words just flow out. Today, the words in my head are more like popcorn: tons shoot into my brain, but as soon as I start to write, the thought is gone. I have no idea how to summarize this catastrophic day, but now that it's coming to an end, we both feel a deep gratitude for being parents; at least we can enjoy being awake before sunrise and enjoying the early hours of the day even on vacation. A completely pock-marked back, leaden tiredness, rain and humid heat were the conditions - sweetened with 'I don't want to!', 'leave me alone!' and eardrum-shattering screams. Just everything that drives tired parents insane.
In general, I'm a big fan of the morning hours. The day is still young, the batteries are still charged, and there are many ideas that want to be realized. But on vacation, I can do without being awake before the birds, especially when I have spent most of the night hunting mosquitoes. Lars' back is completely bitten. Quietly, a certain satisfaction arises in me that I haven't received a single bite after being laughed at in Frankfurt for wanting to pack Fenistil gel in case we have to deal with mosquitoes. Now the tube is safe in Germany, waiting for the next summer.
The last mosquito was caught in the dawn, and we finally closed our eyes, when two brown button eyes opened in the next room: 'I'm done sleeping!' After only eight hours of sleep at 5:00 in the morning, and no pleading or begging from us could convince Ida to go back to the land of dreams.
So what do you do with an overtired child on a rainy day on an island? You struggle through breakfast (here we notice a not insignificant disadvantage of AI: fixed meal times don't always fit with the child's rhythm), convince the little stubborn head to sit in the stroller, and try a city stroll.
Unfortunately, there's not much to see apart from two small supermarkets that the stroller doesn't fit through, a pub, and a ceramics shop (both not recommended terrain for a toddler).
The bay of Milna would have been nice, but we were worried that our defiant little monster would end up in the harbor basin. Shooting to the moon would be ok and desirable, but going swimming involuntarily was a step too far for us.
After several sets of spare clothes that fell victim to the mud puddles, we finished our coffee and put Ida back in the stroller to walk back to the hotel. Away from the main road, she was allowed to walk on her own again, which resulted in two scraped knees.
Since our daughter takes after me in this respect, the injuries led to bilateral paralysis of the lower extremities, and she had to be carried the last stretch. Walking alone was definitely over, and the focus could turn to the empty child's stomach. Great stuff, because it was definitely too early for lunch.
To distract ourselves, we walked to the hotel's own access to the sea. There's no sandy beach, but a steep gravel path leads past small terraces with sun loungers to the water. You can reach a floating bathing jetty over rocks. There's also a water trampoline and two slides. Really well done, and the water didn't feel cold at all. We definitely want to try that tomorrow.
Before lunch, the sun came out again. We let it shine on us while Ida watched fascinated as two cats played together. She then imitated them several times. The nap worked wonders, so the meal went smoothly, and Ida came up with a few wise words: 'Daddy, but you can't only eat cake!', 'It means 'excuse me!' People always say 'hmmmm?'', (towards the neighboring table), and 'I do eat vegetables; like cheese for example!'