Vacation slideshow

First stop: Davidsonville, MD (near Annapolis), for my sister's wedding. B was the ringbearer, then was invited to play the maraca in the band, and took both duties very seriously. He did a stellar job at both. He and Z both boogied down after he finished his musical duties. There was a dinner cruise on the West River one night, and lots of aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents around. Plus, they live on a horse farm, so there was plenty to entertain both kids.

Next stop: The Smithsonian Air & Space Museum at Dulles, on the way to Woodbridge, VA, where we spent a night with M's aunt & uncle. B was thrilled to see a real space shuttle, while I was a little disappointed that all we could do was look at it (I'd been hoping we could go inside it). He & I rode a thing that simulates a space shuttle trip to the space station though, and that was a blast. I laughed hysterically through the whole thing. The visit with M's aunt & uncle was fun too -- they're fun people to be around, and have a daughter who's a high school senior and a son who's a college junior. Both are just delightful kids. If our kids someday grow up to be that smart, polite and funny, I'll consider our job well done.

Next: Virginia Beach, VA, to stay with M's mom. She had a big family party our first afternoon there, with a whole crew of cousins for B & Z to play with. We also visited the aquarium, had dinner with M's grandma at her nursing home, and went to the beach. M flew home from VA, since he doesn't have a lot of vacation time at his job.

Next: The kids and I drove to Greenville, NC, to visit M's dad. They have a neighborhood pool that both kids enjoyed, and B got to help mow the lawn. And Uncle Richard, who is almost 16, was a lot of fun to play with. There was also a trip to a toy store, where M's step-mom let each kid pick out a new toy, and a rainy afternoon spent at a bounce house. Can you believe they wouldn't let me bounce too?! I actually got kicked out of a bouncer.

Last leg: We drove back to Baltimore, checked into an airport hotel, and flew home the next morning. The flight was pure hell. Only the kindness of a stranger saved me from flinging myself out the emergency exit at 40,000 feet. This kind stranger was a woman named Margaret. She was on the hotel shuttle to the airport with us, then coincidentally (and luckily, at least for us, if not for her) ended up in the third seat in our row. She held Z at least as much as I did, if not more (this probably set us back at least a month on the attachment process, but hey, it was a crisis situation), read books to B and took him to the restroom while I held Z during a hissy fit, and shared her snacks with the kids.

All in all, it a was a nice trip. B hadn't seen his east coast relatives for two years, long enough that he didn't remember most, so he had a blast meeting all those cousins he didn't even know he had. And nobody there had met Z yet, so it was fun to introduce her around.

I learned an important lesson though: Never, and I mean NEVER, travel alone with two kids under five.