I’ve been packing for what seems like days. It hasn’t been, but it feels like it. Ultimately, the total amount of things we’re taking on vacation is very small, which was rather the point in the first place. I don’t like over packing. And I’m not fond of under packing—especially when it means I forgot something I should have known better than to forget.
It’s taken me so long to pack because I can’t keep at it for more than ten minutes without something interrupting me. Usually this something involves the word, “mom!” and lots of times is followed by, “Greyson just…” That, or one of a dozen other things not child-related.
I’m packing for a double trip: two days in Detroit with only minimal things, sending the remainder with my husband and son as they drive up to New Jersey for. our summer beach vacation with my brother- and sister-in-law’s family.
I think I’ve got everything about done though. I’m leaving a list for my husband to do with things that couldn’t be done until just before they leave. He and my son will have two days together while my daughter and I are in Detroit for an EUA to see what’s happening with her eyes.
The Big Boy Update: If you’d told me a year ago my son would love dancing, I would have laughed at you. Only now he does. But specific dances: those the characters in Fortnite do. He’s really pretty good at them. People who know the game recognize what he’s doing.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: When we were out on the boat at my in-laws over the fourt-of-July, my mother-in-law had asked my husband to lower the boat ladder on the side of the boat. As he was doing this fairly easy task my daughter called, “that’s my boy!” to dad. It was so cute. I don’t know where she got it from. Do I say that?
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