A Vacation With Small Kids Is No Vacation at All

We spent the past week in North Carolina for my brother's wedding and had a great time. But the trip required us to fly cross-country with two small children (and enough luggage for a passage to India) — something I'm in no hurry to do again.

I think I reached the end of my rope while changing planes in Atlanta. There's nothing like trying to wash and dry a child's poopy underpants in the lavatory of the world's busiest airport  — all while said child wanders around a crowded bathroom with no pants on. An older man (his kids long since grown, I assume) looked over at me and said, "I don't miss that."

The scene was followed by Elliot dropping his suitcase down an escalator, hiding under the seats at the gate and chasing after one of those beeping electric carts.

For much of the time, we rolled Elliot around on his Trunki, which at least kept him moving. Still, he managed to nearly collide with dozens of fellow travelers. It didn't help that many stopped to compliment his matching tiger shoes and luggage.

Alice is always a pretty mellow baby, but she got sick during the trip, which made her more irritable than usual. At one point, Kelly was holding her up to give her a kiss when Alice managed to throw up in Kelly's mouth.

It's become a cliche to say, "I threw up in my mouth a little bit," so I suppose it's refreshing that she threw up in someone else's mouth. No one can say you aren't original, Alice.