Get Ready for Summer Vacation

Tomorrow is our last day of school and I’m in full-blown pre-vacation panic. Today is get ready for summer vacation day.  It’s 9am. I’ve been up since 5.  I am NOT a morning person.

My list is about a mile long and it’s filled with the standard stuff.  Clean out the fridge, change the sheets on all the beds, pack, stop the mail, buy cat food, refill a prescription.  It’s the same list you’d make.

summer vacation

wait. School?

I know, we’re early. Our school year started in mid-August. We only missed two days for ice.  We had two half days that turned into full days to make up for that.

Tomorrow is our last day of school.  Sometime between then and September we start homeschooling.  My kids want to know if they can burn their private school uniforms.

(I told them not all of them, but we’ll burn one polyester shirt as part of a lesson on fire safety.  It should be stellar.)

yes. Vacation!

Before you worry about me announcing vacation plans on the internet, hear me out.

(Yes, I know. Telling the internet I’m on vacation is an invitation to thieves and bad guys.)

We have someone house-sitting. He’s a nice single guy who lives with his mom and loves cats. He’ll be sleeping at the house the entire time we’re gone.

We also happen to live in one of those old fashioned neighborhoods. I know my neighbors by name. Most of us are friends on Facebook or Twitter. We communicate.

seriously. Road Trip.

We’re driving about 4000 miles round trip. We’re covering large parts of Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, and Idaho.

I’m sure I’ll be obnoxious about it on Instagram.

My Husband is Driving Me Batty.

We didn’t decide to take this big road trip last week. I’ve been planning it (with all the Pinterest and list-making activities you can imagine) for months.

Last weekend, my husband finally got started on his vacation readiness list.

He mowed the grass.

He changed the oil in the car that is staying at home (the one we’re taking still needs fresh oil).

He installed a new light switch.

He power washed some screens.

He upgraded the hard drive on the kids computer.

He asked me to buy him some socks and a new swim suit the next time I’m at Target.

(If you hear a noise, it’s just me… banging my head against the wall.)

Then we had a conversation about the stuff on my list.

Him:  Hey, do you think we should take the bikes?

Me: They aren’t on my list.

Him: If we take the bikes I’m going to need a roof rack or a trailer hitch mount.

Me: Those aren’t on my list either.

Him: If I get the trailer mount that would let us put one of those baskets behind the car for a big cooler. Do you think you can drive with a basket on the hitch?

Me: That’s not on my list.

Him: How big of a cooler did you want to take? How much stuff are you packing anyway?

For the record, men measure coolers in one of two ways. Either the number of quarts they hold OR the number of bottles they hold. A 20 quart cooler holds approximately 24 bottles (also known as a “suitcase” of beer).  On the other hand, I measure coolers as small, medium, big, and giant.  I refer to the 20 quart cooler as “the medium sized one” or “the biggest one I can lift when it’s full.”

Me: I want to take the cooler that’s bigger than the medium one but not as big as the giant one.

Him: What?

Me: The giant one fits your truck but it’s too big for my car.

Him: What?

Me: We’re packing a week’s worth of clothes. I mapped it out so we can do laundry every five to six days. I promise not to need to put stuff on the roof rack.

Him: What are you talking about?

Me: The stuff on my list. Next up is cleaning the toilets. I have you penciled in for that.

Him: I need to re-caulk the bathrooms first.

That noise you hear? It’s just me… banging my head against the wall.

What unusual thing gets done at YOUR house right before a road trip?

 

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Susan Baker
I have a passion for encouraging weary worn out mothers to find joy in everyday motherhood and peace in unlikely places. I have two elementary school boys, one nerdy husband, and two cats. I have a strange fascination for bad puns, the color pink, socks, and books. I worry about running out of toilet paper, wine, and chocolate.. I serve an amazing God. I live an ordinary life filled with wonder.
Susan Baker
Susan Baker

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