The Real World: Las Vegas

I figured I should blog about our trip to Vegas before it becomes a distant memory, considering we came home two weeks ago yesterday ... and oh, yeah, there's that little detail of having no job come Tuesday and I don't want to taint any good memories from the month of November, which now joins July as being a candidate for being kicked off the calendar ...

Anyway, our pre-holidays trip was not only a blast, but an unexpected reality check, too. My about-to-be-ex-boss/about-to-be-legit-friend I threw the shower for in September gave birth to her beautiful daughter the day before we left (I maintain she held off on being born until the Cougars won the Apple Cup considering her parents are Gonzaga grads, but that's just my opinion) and when we got to Vegas, it hit me that not only are we having a child, too, but our days of cavorting around the great state of Nevada are OVER. Don't get me wrong -- it's not like I wasn't already aware I am having a child (trust me, I remember it every morning as I am lying on the bathroom floor), but it became really real in a different way.

And I have to say that I am madly in love with the Mandalay Bay and steadfastly refused to return to Seattle (especially since I had to come straight to work from the airport on Thanksgiving). The hotel really lives up to its "South Pacific" theme: it smells like coconuts and tropical flowers, and there's lush greenery everywhere and it's just so, so classy. Definitely the perfect spot for what was supposed to be our "rage against the cold weather" trip and turned into our "kiss goodbye our days of being alone" rendezvous.

It was also a big reminder as I was handing over my credit card at Tiffany & Co. for my to-me-from-me Christmas present -- if you saw how much work I do every year and how utterly useless my spouse is when it comes to shopping/wrapping/decorating/sending cards, you'd totally understand -- (sorry, Chris, I love you, but you know it's true) and I realized that soon I'll be buying binkies instead of bling. Not that I'm complaining, but it's amazing how quickly things are changing. We would see people pushing strollers all over The Strip and think, wow, that will be us next year. (Side note: I continue to maintain that Vegas is not a family-friendly vacation and maintain this was Truffle's first and last trip there for many years.)

And even in good ol' Sin City (And yes, I find it ironic that I have been there three times in 18 months, and two of the times, I have been avec enfant), we indulged our newfound roles are parents-to-be, buying some clothes at the Baby Gap (now there's a sight: me strolling down Las Vegas Boulevard with a bag full of onesies in one hand and a bag with a $200 necklace in the other) and a stuffed bunny at FAO Schwarz. (Chris was eyeing a lifesize tiger, but I pointed out that not only would it scare the baby, but it would probably give the cats a nervous breakdown.)

We ate some great food, including the buffets at the Mandalay Bay and the Paris, and Margaritaville and the House of Blues -- and Truffle was not shy about informing me of what he/she did NOT enjoy. (Seriously, who throws up pancakes?! And room-service ones, at that?!) It was between the high 60s and mid 70s, so we went swimming in the MB's pool, which was entirely too awesome given that it was two days before Thanksgiving, and we wore our summer clothes, or, in my case, the ones that still fit. (Mock my pink plaid pants if you want, but at least they zip up ... or at least they did two weeks ago. Now may be another story.)

Morning sickness aside (easy fix: pizza at the New York, New York), the only problem I ran into was how much walking we did. I normally have no problem walking that far, and we easily trekked down to the Fashion Show Mall from the MGM Grand in January, but since getting pregnant, I haven't had much energy, and rarely walk farther than the kitchen (and not even the whole length of the kitchen, either, since the fridge is close to the doorway), so the distance from the hotel to, well, pretty much anywhere, was horrible.

I think I would have died had it not been for the tram that goes from the Mandalay Bay, which is at the VERY end of The Strip, to the Excalibur, which has sky bridges to NYNY, and from there you can walk down by Caesar's and the Bellagio. (I will admit it's amazing how fast I can walk when there's either (A) Starbucks (B) A snack or
(C) Tiffany in the vicinity.) Chris, fortunately, was very understanding, even when I went on strike and sat down in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge at NYNY. Oh yeah, and when I wanted pizza at 11:45 p.m. while he was watching college basketball.

I got a little teary on the plane coming home because it was really nice to escape reality for a while -- even if it was a reminder of the reality to come. But all things considered, it's not so bad. At this point, I'd rather have sippy cups than SoCo anyway.