The Agony of Misplaced Idealism.

It's not easy to travel with teenagers. I have children with a span of 6 years between them, and I find I spend a lot of time figuring out how to satisfy and combine everybody's wants. Of course, at the time when we got them, we didn't know this would be a challenge. We were just happy they were absolutely gorgeous and cute and adorable. Little did we realize they would grow into mindstrong individuals... not to mention: TEENAGERS!
At home we have lots of rooms and doors; when on holiday that is not a priority. After all: we go on holiday to spend quality time together, right?

A few years back we invited our oldest son's friend to join us to the Middle East. It turned out a great success. The two friends were totally content having a peer, with mutual interests and priorities, around as a fellow allied. One of the standout causes they insisted on including to their list of what teens MUST do when on holiday was (and I have to admit this was our biggest challenge) their sleeping habits.
No matter how early or late they went to bed, they slept through the best hours of the day, every day.
We didn't get to go anywhere untill after lunch, which was sometimes very annoying and a stressfactor. By pure luck we stayed at a hotel with a nice pool the first week, and then we stayed for two weeks at a holiday resort with all facilities available. So while the young and the hopeful had their long sleep, we got a tan and learned how to swim.
And yet, when they DID get up: The patience they showed our two youngest sons was admirable.

Once they were up they were ready to go places and explore. Never even asking if we had any plans, they would stand by the door, hand on the handle and ask: "So? Are you not ready yet?" They loved to bargain at the market in old Jerusalem, they enjoyed and played in pools and the ocean, they played cards with the rest of the family and wandered through numerous, ancient ruins as well as experienced the adventures of other typical tourist "traps".
So, I swallowed my annoyance and took pleasure in beautiful, well behaved kid, when we went for another adventure in fascinating Israel.

Before we left home, we totally agreed on no internet. Quality time together, remember? I even deliberately left my laptop at home, bringing only my tablet.
It's all very good, and noone neither argued nor complained about it, except...: I am not very good at sleeping.

I have been thoroughly exposed in that aspect, due to social medias. People can see when I am online, and comment upon it. What they are doing online at those godforsaken hours I never ask, but since I've heard the comments so often, I find it annoying. If you wonder what I am doing online at late hours ask me then and there, don't bring it up three days later after having pondered and wondered and created possible scenarios about it.
Going on holidays, especially in summertime, is really the worst time to pull through my sleepless hours.

Small living units like holiday apartments really aren't suitable for me time. The slightest sound might wake up the rest of the family, and they all are sound sleepers who need their full eight hours, or more.
I have a wonderful tablet, but even with an external keyboard it really isn't a good tool for me when it comes to writing. And writing is more or less what I find appealing doing when I can't go online and I have read all the books I brought, and the book I bought yesterday was read last night.
Candy Crush is captivating for limited time only.

So I tip toe around the flat, wondering what to do. Lurking like a neurotic thief, anxious if I should bump into a light chair (which would cause a deafening noice scraping two inches across the floor) or the squeek of a door.
When we arrive I always listen and learn the sounds of a room: which door squeeks when, which step in the staircase creaks, can I hear water running in the next room?

Going for a walk is always an option, but my family doesn't feel comfortable knowing I am wandering about in the streets alone at dusk. I could lie, of course. Thing is, though: people have dogs, and dogs bark when they hear footsteps not supposed to pass their property... believe me, I have tried, and I still shrink with bad conscience thinking about the light which was turned on in a window upstairs. And what if someone called in an emergency call, stating a delusional, very confused woman is on the loose? You never know, right? And by the way; who would I tell? No wifi and Facebook really isn't an option, not untill we get to a cafe or something, and by then it is too late. The novelty of my soulful "me time" is gone.
Not to mention what my selfie would look like: no make up, no sane hairdo... much like a normal mug-shot. That is what happens when you delay your morning shower because you want to avoid hissing in the pipes this early.

I love silence. It is my favourite sound, and I can listen to the silence for a very long time, but I have discovered it is not so calming and certainly not such a relief, when I am overly aware of how I disturb the universe.
So there I go, the only thing left to do is to sit on the balcony, drink coffee, try to write on my tablet and curse my excellent idea of depriving the kids from the internet, online gaming, streaming movies and chats.