We rushed out of the apartment like a whirlwind by 6:30am after several unsuccessful attempts to get BB back to sleep; he woke us up at 5:15am by jumping as high and hard as he could inside his rented pack ‘n play, throwing his stuffed buddies and shouting demands of a bottle, despite falling asleep a little later than usual last night. RB and I came to the conclusion that at home that probably happens too but he’s easier to ignore in his room and he eventually gives up and falls back asleep. Here, he snoozes at the foot of our bed in the second bedroom of the apartment my parents rent for the winter in Seminole, Florida. The walls are thin and my parents are no longer used to waking up early or life with an energetic, screaming toddler. (Granny tries to impress the concept of an “inside voice” on BB; he usually looks at her and screeches louder.)
Found a hip breakfast place. Enjoyed eggs Benedict served on crepes until BB began to choke on his French toast. Caught most of the puke in my hands, RB assisted with napkins and cleanup. I was impressed by our calm demeanors and minimal spillage on BB’s clothes/floor, but I think the waitress was too flustered by another table with young business types who requested 5 separate checks. RB was polite and threw out the mess for her. I still finished my breakfast and coffee before we left.