More than just a backpack

Before Lillian, if we were going away for a weekend, or even a week it would take about 30 minutes for us to pack backpack, load up the car and head to our destination. Sometimes, I yearn for those days, while other times my Type A personality loves that we have to plan, write lists and prepare for journeys.

In a week and a half, we are leaving to go on our first, real family vacation. All of us — Wife, crazy-cruising baby, two dogs and me. We rented a quaint little house in the woods of Pennsylvania that is 40 minutes from the nearest grocery store, doctor’s office, civilization. We are really excited to go and just spend time together, but I can’t help hearing the light hum of the song from Deliverance in my head. I hope the hillbillies read The Advocate.

This trip marks the first time we really really have to plan. I am fine with this. I love planning. Lauren jokes that I make a draft of the grocery list every week and then write a final copy (little does she know that sometimes I type it up at work to make it look extra neat and tidy), so for me, this planning is a little exhilerating. Hell, I started planning Lillian’s 1st birthday party months ago.

So we have lists forming, bags waiting to be packed and two very confused animals who are not sure what is going on or why their food is being divided up into little baggies. Menu planning for our wooded escape is probably the most interesting part of the process for the simple reason that we want to do easy, low-mess things, but need to get all of our items from the store the day we get there since it is so far away. I think it is coming along well, but I am sure that there will be a mid-week trip to the closest store to buy something random that we forgot.

I have an extensive list that I am building of supplies we might need but should have on hand just incase. Like those ice packs that crystalize when you break them. You never know when someone is going to bump their head, sprain and ankle or just need some cooling off. Of course, I am sure Lillian will not be the one using it and that I will probably hit my head on a cabinet. We also are purchasing some bandaids for the trip, after learning last week (when Lillian sliced her knuckle open on the vent) that we only had GIGANTIC bandages for when you cut your entire knee open. Clearly, we get the prepared parents of the year award. And after Lauren’s text message to me this morning of “Your daughter has bad breath,” apparently a toothbrush is in order as well. Who knew that such a cute baby could have onion breath.


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