These posts make me a bit sad. I took ds to Italy when he was 16 months old. He had just started walking and was very very difficult to keep still. I had to go as I had some inheritance business to take care of. I went with my elderly and quite disabled ( my mother) parents who were in their early 80s and not able to look after a mobile toddler
I remember arriving at the house in Italy, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but rocky steps up to the house and my farmer neighbours wide open garage/ barn full of (lethal to children) farming equipment next door to our house.
I put DS down in the kitchen and within minutes every cupboard was open with everything being pulled out and examined by ds, with me following and frantically removing anthhing remotely dangerous with sharp edges from him.
To this day, I remember my mother's face turning from adoring grandparent, to shocked worry as she wailed "oh bumbling, I forgot what they are like at this age, what are we going to do!" and we both started laughing
DH had not been able to come due to work and DS had started walking about 2 weeks befoere we left.
The trip was very hard work for me as I had to do so much trailing after DS to keep him safe. I couldnt really let him nap alone as there was no cot and very steep marble stars outside the bedrooms
But we worked out a routine and my parents did all they could to help, cooking , cleaning and sticking religiously to whatever routine worked best for making sure I got a chance to rest when possible.
I do remember how much hard work it was, especially as I was the only one who could drive and DS was on the move from 6am to 2pm and then again from about 4pm to 9pm . I remember hours of following ds around outside to stop him falling down steep steps and to stop him playing with farm equipment. I remember keeping him entertained while we spoke to lawyers and other officials to sort out admin paperwork and I remember being exhausted. I remember being up at night when he cried as he was still breastfeeding
But I also remember taking the 2 hours that he slept to sleep myself every day, with nothing to do but read or sleep as I stayed with DS as my parents did everything. Remember my parents happy proud voices as the showed ds off to everyone, even as ds was running around manically, unable to keep still for more than 5 mins at a time, with me trailingvafter him. I also remember my mother saying to me " this reminds me so much of when you were this age' and although I know it made her very tired, she was also a bit wistful.
That trip was the longest 13 days of my life but I remember it fondly 19 years later now my parents are gone. The thing that helped the most was feeling like a team with my parents and me understanding that ds was my responsibility with regards to keeping him safe, but they helped by doing all the cooking and cleaning etc and by not complaining if I wanted to do something different to how they usually did it.
Anyway not sure what I am saying, except I do know how stressful it is but a bit of love and compromise on both sides goes a long way. Plus it is really not forever