Suri Cruise needs to go to bed earlier. I’m an outspoken member of the head-shaking press pack that questions the wisdom of letting a five-year-old stay up so late. But I’ve let Sprog 2 lead a Suri-style lifestyle on our holiday, and I’m paying the price. On our first night in Singapore, we didn’t get her to bed until 11.30pm Aussie time. Things have gone progressively downhill since we’ve arrived in Spain. The Spanish keep vastly different hours to Aussies. Lunch is between 2 and 4pm. Dinner is a 9pmish affair. Sprog 2 is having trouble keeping up (hey, I’m having trouble keeping up – I had to have a siesta yesterday). Last night, as we drove to a beachside restaurant for paella, she fell asleep in the car. She proceeded to sleep through most of dinner. When she wasn’t asleep she was either cranky or crying. No wonder Suri throws all those late-night tantrums. Five-year-olds aren’t meant to eat dinner at 10pm. It makes them highly emotional during daylight hours too. Yesterday, Sprog 2 had a complete meltdown at the beach because her shoes got wet. No amount of explaining that reef shoes – worn because the beaches are stone rather than sand – are supposed to get wet would console her. And so ended any hopes of her swimming that day. She’s also highly sensitive about about absolutely everything – from Sprog 1 looking at her to a tiny scratch on her toe. Today we’re taking her to a castle that’s been hewn into the side of a mountain, in 30 degree heat after insufficient sleep. I’m a teeny bit nervous. I wonder what Katie would do? Probably get a minder to carry Suri while she sucked her dummy and sulked. Then take her out for a another midnight supper with Tom. Katie, you’re nuts. Me? Definitely loopy, but I’ve admitted defeat on the late-night dining front. We’re skipping dinner tonight in favour of tapas at the kid-friendly hour of 6pm.
LAST NIGHT’S MENU: bread rolls with garlic aioli, fried calamari, paella and gallons (ouch) of vino rosado.
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