I have flown cross-country with a toddler several times now. I know how difficult it can be, and how very, very loud it can be, even if the parents are doing absolutely everything in their power to be as respectful as possible of the other passengers. Which is to say: I am not an especially intolerant person when it comes to in-flight disturbances.

But OH MY GOD did the flight on Saturday ever make me insane. So I have a question for you, because I suspect that pounds and pounds of pregnancy hormones combined with the fact that I had just dragged unreal-heavy bags through an unreal-large airport makes the validity of my emotional response system a little…untrustworthy.

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It feels like two weeks - not two days - have passed since I took this photo on Saturday morning while in town getting bagels and donuts for my parents (who came up to help me finalize everything for the housesitter and get to the airport). I thought that I'd be all wistful about leaving - and when it came to taking one last look at the nursery, thinking about how the next time I step foot in there it will be to show our daughter her new room, I was - but mostly I was just completely freaked out about whether or not I'd forgotten something essential.

Because really, I kind of feel like I should get a medal for packing two months' worth of stuff into that one suitcase.