There and Back Again

After a week in California, a second week at Aspen Grove in Utah, and a third in lovely Canada, I am now back again in Oregon. You lucky suckers, you, now you get to read all about my three week vacation!

 Except. . . that seems hard. And I've already gone grocery shopping AND unpacked all my crap (including all my gorgeous new maternity wear--I'm fourteen weeks along now, can you believe it? I sure as heck can't!), and I'm too tired to do anything but whine. So, I'm a-gonna talk about airports/airplanes. And how much I hate them.

Reason Numero Uno That I Hate Planes: People annoy me. And it's kind of hard to get away from them on a plane. On our layover flight to Vancouver, there were three boys roughly ten years of age (who looked like siblings, but who knows) sitting next to each other. UNSUPERVISED. If you do not know why this is a problem, you have never been around ten year old boys before. Somehow the one in front of me kept managing to kick my feet (which really shouldn't even have been long enough to reach my little bubble behind him) while sitting sideways to help beat up the boy in the middle. By the fifth time of this, I started kicking him back. And you can judge me if you want, but I am unrepentant, and I had a hard time holding in my snickers as he looked back in surprise to see me innocently reading my biography of Anne Boleyn. Take that, annoying little boy with adorable British accent! I had a reaffirming that McKay is my soul mate when I told him of my misdeeds, and he high-fived me and told me I was awesome.
  At least he knows what he's getting into when it comes to me raising his babies.

Reason Two: There is always one person with a hacking cough that sends off a chain reaction of ickiness that gets recirculated in the air vents of the plane, making it so that that original person might as well have coughed straight into your mouth in the first place.

Reason C: Security. I dislike that they see me in my underwear as I go through their scanner thingymabob. I hate having to stress over whether I remembered to take my lotion out of my purse. And I just really dislike lines in general when I don't get rewarded at the end with a magical Disney ride.

Reason 4: I hate all the waiting. When I drive, at least I feel in control and like I'm constantly making progress. And, yes, yes, flying is infinitely faster. Except when you get delayed. And then have a layover. And then have to go through customs. And then have to wait for a second flight. And then drive home from the airport. In all, it took ten hours yesterday to fly. I really don't think that saved me much time (not that I'm not super grateful, Mom and Dad! Thanks for arranging all that! Eep.)

  I'll try to get to my amazing adventures of the last three weeks soon. I know all of you are quite anxious. Especially considering that 90% of my readers are family members that are still on vacation in Canada and experienced all those things WITH me.