The problem with being pregnant and being in a wedding is that you really can't get a dress until, practically, the day before the wedding, as you have no idea what size to buy. Some wonderful friends in Louisville were kind enough to lend me a plethora of little black dresses to choose from (the dress code was black dress and red shoes). So I settled on a dress (Thanks, Annie) that was forgiving and would even allow for a little Alaskan growth, if need be. Here's the final result:
On one of the four flights I experienced an interesting phenomenon, known as "having absolutely no compassion for cute children." This was an entirely new experience for me, who usually finds children in all shapes, sizes and moods to be adorable and sweet and incapable of anything but utter perfection. But apparently I am transitioning into a new phase known as, "My child is leaps and bounds more superior and important and (inevitably) cuter than you could ever hope to be, so don't mess with her/him" And by "her/him", in this case, I mean, me. It started when I boarded and there was a child who had the AUDACITY to be sitting in my window seat. Excuse me if I had the foresight to plan ahead and reserve that seat ahead of time, as I knew I would want to sleep, and someone's mother didn't seem to remember to do this for her child, which is not my problem. So, when the flight attendant asked me if I would mind sitting in the middle seat, so this little boy could sit by the window, I smiled and said, "Yes, I do mind." Sorry, kid. He was slightly disgruntled, which would have pulled on my heart strings in days past, but not anymore. Whatever, my kid (and by "kid", I mean, me) wanted the best seat and my kid wins over your kid. Hands down.
So I settled in to sleep, only to be repeatedly woken up by the incessant kicking of the back of my seat of a 5 year old. I tried several times to shift dramatically in my seat and sigh loudly, which is the international symbol for "please stop annoying me." But someone's mother and father (both were on the plane) neglected to teach their darling hellion these simple social cues. So, after several more minutes of this, I then tried glaring at the mother, at which point I realized was wrangling, not one, but FOUR sons on this cross continental flight. Sweet Jesus. I decided to let this one slide. The distraction of iPods and Nintendo DS's were useless, except to bring on questions such as, "Mom! Why do you have a cover on your iPod? Mom!!! Why do you have a cover on your iPod? MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why do you have a cover on your iPod?" I almost turned around and and said, "Mom! Answer your damn child, for the sake of all those on board!" But then he switched to, "Mom! I can see the wing!!!" Clearly Mom was taking the "ignoring approach" to parenting. Note to self: Don't use this one a packed plane when others are wearing sleeping masks.
4 plane rides later I arrived in Alaska and was not shocked at all when I came down a cold, because that's what happens on vacation. All in all though, annoying kids aside, I had a lovely time, and held some very cute children, which redeemed my view in children once again.
I ended my relaxing vacation in sunny San Diego for a long weekend with my mom, where I presented at a conference for the American Psychological Association and stayed with my high school friend, Heather and her fiance' David, who were wonderful hosts. One of my best friends, Britt, drove down from LA and spent the day with Mom and I in La Jolla, and all was very lovely, except for the killer sunburn. But what vacation is complete without a cold AND a sunburn? Good times.
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