Packing Is An Art

Packing is an art form all to itself.  If we were to assess my "artistic" talents, packing would be higher on my list than drawing, but still lower than, say, crafting.  

I hate to pack.

Ok, it's not packing that I hate.  It's the cleaning that goes with it.  See, I can't go away with a messy house.  Actually, its not the leaving a messy house that drives me nuts; it's the returning to a messy house that makes me want to go all Jerry Springer. If I could leave my house messy, I would be ok, if I knew that the cleaning fairy was going to come over and magically make the messes dissappear.  But, sadly, I have yet to see evidence that the cleaning fairy exists.  Maybe if I left the house messy, and a burglar broke in (to steal what, exactly, I am not sure), they would feel sorry for me, clean up and leave empty handed.  I know, I know, pipe dreams.

So as my family is preparing to embark on a journey for the weekend, dog in tow (seriously), I have the fun job of making sure that everyone has what they need for the duration of the trip.  And cleaning the house as I go along, so I don't have a major mental meltdown when I get home.

Katie

She can pretty much fend for herself in the packing world...she only needs to be double checked.  She set her things out on the table last night, and today I looked them over.  What my lovable 8 year old seems to think she needs is 2 pairs of jeans, pajamas, and a long sleeve t shirt.  Also a hairbrush and her deodorant.  Good thing Mom is here to double check! So I go to her room and pick out some underthings, socks, and another shirt...and notice that there is a TUB OF PLAYDOH on her bed.  Not just like a little container, but a barrel of Play Doh and accessories.  I was all, WTF? I'll have to ask about that one.  

Meanwhile Rebecka is running around, screaming like a banshee, because she wants me to blow bubbles for her. Except when I blow bubbles, the dog goes insane and won't stop barking and jumping. So I blow a few and then pretend like the bubble container is empty and predictably, she throws a temper tantrum.  I move on in my packing/cleaning frenzy.

Rebecka

Becka is the easiest person in the house to back for, well except maybe the dog.  Becka will wear whatever I want her to, and not complain.  Unless it's pants.  She only likes dresses right now, but it's been chilly so she just has to deal.  I get all of her clean clothes put away, and pack her stuff in the suitcase with Katie's.

Mike

Mike, my fiance, is unique in many ways.  Like, this morning, instead of actually packing for himself, he made me a LIST of what he wants packed.  Srsly. It would have taken less time to actually pack his stuff than to make a list.  But that is what a man does.  I suppose.  His list is very descriptive, including items such as "razor from the little bathroom, and brush from same".  Ok, I have lived with this man for 5 1/2 years...I think I know what razor he uses, and which hairbrush.  But it's cute that he spells it out for me.  

Me

All that is left is for me to pack for myself.  By this time in the morning, Rebecka is off her breakfast high, has torn out every. single. toy. in the house, and is ready for a nap. So ready, that she must throw another tantrum to show me exactly how tired she is, and how badly she wants to watch Sid the Science Kid and not take a nap. And silly me, trying to be a more "natural" mom, still co-sleeps and has a child that WILL NOT go to sleep without playing with my hair, so I have to take a break from packing and watch Sid with the munchkin.  A challenge, I know, but looking around at the jungle of baby toys that is my living room and dining room, I am slowly going mad.

I now sit on my love seat, watching Sid, with a baby that refuses to sleep, and writing on my new blog.  Life is fun.  Forget everything else that needs to be done.  I am in the here and now, with my sweet little girl.  This is what really counts, that I am here with her and she is having fun.

Hopefully I will get everything done AND remember to pick the girls up from school.  And remember to NOT eat meat today because it's lent and I want to be a good little Methodist.  

The kicker is that I gave up caffeine for lent, and could really really use a jolt right about now...God would understand...right?