Recovery

Having jet lag in the US is fine. We have an entire horde of grandparents, friends, and family at our disposal and whose main goals seem to be to feed, dress, change, play with, cuddle, and love our kids, while also providing three hot meals a day and housekeeping.

Recovering from jet lag in Switzerland is sort of like this:
I'm so tired that I am attempting to conserve energy by only opening one eye at a time. The contents of three 50 pound suitcases has been strewn wildly about an apartment that, let's face it, wasn't that tidy to begin with. Children are hungry. The freezer contains 7 Ikea meatballs, peas, and pureed carrots. Just enough to feed the youngsters. Frederic is off at the ariport picking up our remaining suitcases (We came home with more than we could carry on the train and metro) and hopefully, buying us some food. Once fed, these crazy kids want to play. I lay down across the living room floor and become a human jungle gym. And finally, they are ready for naps. And now they are both asleep. And I'm wide awake. Right about the time they wake up, I am back to rotating eyes.