 |
| A family vacation to Texas. Apparently my mom forgot to bring me shoes. My current panic disorder stems from this never happening a second time. |
Just like the next person, I relish my time away from it all. However, I wonder if I would rather be subjected to waterboarding than packing for a vacation. It takes me a good week to just think about what I should pack. Then it takes me a good three days to figure out which suitcase to use. Then, another two days to finalize said suitcase with another two, to finally pack!
The final two days of packing always finds me doing the same thing; attempting to zip up my suitcase. Then there is the unpacking and pulling out unnecessary (yet necessary) items that I COULD live without if I had to. Then repeating the process over about 5 times. At that point, I realize that this is my destiny and that it will be marked "heavy" once I arrive at the airport.
 |
| Prepared for a cold day in Barcelona. Taking the tram up to Montesserat. |
Speaking of Martin, my husband... Martin, although very patient with me, doesn't understand all the mental prep work that I put myself through at the start of every vacation. When I am packing, Martin will try and talk to me in the midst of me mentally trying to gather all the things we'll need for the trip. That's about the time he gets the ol', "Don't talk to me for a second, I just remembered something that I need to bring!" This scene plays out at least six times before my suitcase is zipped up for the final doomsday roll into the back of the car on it's way to the airport.
Martin is wired completely different than me. He keeps a shaving kit packed always. I have personally witnessed him pack for a two week trip a hour before he is to catch his flight. I sweat and moan for him all the way to the airport. "Hon, you aren't going to make it!" All the while he knows he'll have brought just enough stuff while catching his flight with two minutes to spare.
 |
| A cold day in Paris with Tonia. My jacket kept me warm from the elements. :) |
Sometimes I think of all these adventure racers heading off into the mountains, compass' in hand and shower caps atop of their heads. Where is the dignity? Who wants to cross the finish line looking as if you have just gotten out of the shower?
More importantly, adventure racers learn to pack very little because they have to carry their pack the entire race. Martin packs like every vacation is an adventure race. I pack like I have been asked to leave my home indefinitely and have only been given 3 days to pack everything that is precious to me into two small suitcases. The gap in "being prepared" between the two of us is wide and spacious.
To make it worse, if I'm not feeling my physical best, I HAVE to pack extra. Just in case I forget that the one shirt I packed makes my arms look like ripe sausages. I play this out over and over in my mind as I grab for another shirt and throw it into my suitcase for this type of an emergency. (It's much easier than trying on the shirt prior to the trip making sure it fits. I'd rather have back up.)
 |
| Trying my luck at the Trevi fountain, Rome. Obviously I knew that I would need a cool, comfortable t-shirt for this HOT day in Italy. |
 |
| Visiting Meredith in North Carolina. Sunglasses for a proper photo looking into the sun. |
Then there is the matter of clothing. This child is my ONLY child. Because of this, I like to make the most of dolling her up with well thought-out outfits. Don't put me into the category of mothers that just let there child wear whatever they want. Since Lily can't fight that battle, I get to dress her. I mean, if I had six kids, no one would question if my youngest's hair wasn't brushed. Even more if she wasn't wearing socks with her black patent shoes while just in shorts (I am thinking of my youngest sister, Chelsey. Poor thing. I'd come home from college and wonder if we were running an orphanage with the clothes this kid would come out wearing). Since I don't have a lot of kids, I have no excuse if Lily's hair isn't brushed and at the very least, her shirt doesn't correspond with the bottoms. What I am saying is, I have to bring all of Lily's essentials, plus her clothes, diapers, hats, sunscreen and medications in case she has a fever, gets an unknown allergy, gets stung by a killer bee or falls and requires stitches and we aren't close to an emergency room. You get where I am going with this, right? I pack a complete medicine chest in fear of having to set up a makeshift triage if something were to happen to Lily.
In my single life, the pressure was still there, but I didn't have anyone saying to me, "Next time, you can not take this much!" Or, "I don't understand what you need that it requires such a large suitcase when we are just going for three days!" You know, THAT guilt. I am so guilty come curbside when Martin is pulling my suitcase out of the car. My only retaliation on the subject is that I have gold medallion status with Delta. A common response that I give to Martin is to remind him of my status and then say, "Why do you care? My luggage can be as heavy as I want it to be. I don't get penalized." Then he gives me the, "What are you talking about? " look.
Airports are stressful enough. Then throw in an over-prepared wife with her minimalist husband. Folks, it's the same conversation at the same curbside every time we're at the airport! Honestly, I really try to not make eye contact with Martin from the car to baggage check, because I don't want to see the disappointment in his face. Inevitably I cave from his stares and promise that "next time" it will be different. It never is.
 |
| Skiing with my niece, Bailey, in Park City. Okay, that's not too far from home, but still, I had to have the proper attire! |
 |
| Wearing the proper gear for a windy day in Bicknell, Utah |
P.S. Thank you for all your notes, emails and comments in regard to Lily's recent health scare. Today she is bright, cheery and back to the Lily we all adore (well, we adore her regardless. ) She is off of oxygen and breathing big deep breaths. Just in time!
