We're still on our holiday vacation, but I finally got a chance to check in and say "This is the worst trip EVER." Ever, ever, ever. Really. Imagine travelling with a baby. On a plane. For 21 hours. And then spending two weeks with 36 different, scary, new, way-too-enthusiastic relatives who all want to hug, kiss, and generally terrify your very shy baby.
And then the baby gets a cold. And then you get a cold. And then your husband gets a cold.
And then the baby decides that this is the best possible time to get her first tooth, and spends six days in screaming agony as it cuts its razor-sharp way through her tiny gums.
That has been my vacation so far. I'll check in again when I have gotten more than three consecutive hours of sleep and my brain starts functioning again.