Hey kids,
Lemme tell ya, packing up your life for five weeks o’ travel is weird. And if that travel ends you up at your family’s homestead, it’s almost weirder. Here’s why: There’s a certain amount of STUFF that you (and I and Nora and Susannah and Jasper) are used to seeing and touching on a daily basis. And when you go home, there’s the knowledge that everything you’ll need is more or less there. Except for the stuff that more or less isn’t. So the grand “pack list” is more of a nebulous, ever-questioned guide (and further proof of my inability to not have lots of possessions with me at all times).
That said, most of the aforementioned stuff belongs to the tiny members of this household. Me? Yeah, I could make do with a backpack and a super-charged Kindle app. And a lengthy sleep. Perhaps a frosty beverage. (Oh, weren’t we planning a dream vacation?)
Didn’t I mention? We’re leaving Chicago for the fresh air of Western Massachusetts this summer. Yep, I’ve finally achieved my goal of summering as a verb. And granted, this getting outta Dodge is inspired less by moneyed pursuits of leisure and more by the need to see family. (And sure, have my Mom cook for me around the clock.) My Dad’s doing well enough in his chemo treatments to handle/welcome/tolerate all three of my kids in his face at all times (you know, when I’m not elbowing them out of the way for face space). Plus, my folks have a pool. And all of the clothing that my younger sisters left there post-high school is just ripe for the wearin’, meaning that I hardly have to pack anything for myself AT ALL. (How’dya like my Abercrombie & Fitch hoodie?)
That said, as someone who hasn’t been Away From Home for this kinda duration since, you know, never (camp and I were never the bestiest of friends), it feels rather odd. I’ve been eating a ton of tamales from the gal on our corner to make myself feel a little more normalized (it’s a common cure-all, didn’tcha know?) and trying to make peace with the fact that there will be no drunks heralding in the morning on my block until late August. Unless, you know, it’s me.
Here are some more Feelings and things running through my brain:
- I already miss Chicago.
- I already really miss P.J. (He’s flying in for the last week but, for some reason, can’t jive four weeks outta the office. COME ON.)
- I’ll get to see my Dad but the kids won’t get to see theirs.
- Guilt is an ugly, borderline schizophrenic thing.
- MOM, I GET TO SWIM IN YOUR POOL!
- Did we put enough diapers/wipes/plastic bags in the car?
- (No. No we did not.)
- I already miss my friends.
- I get to go see my friends!
- Nora said we’re gonna be in the car for hundreds and hundreds of hours. Oh God, what if she’s right?
- After I put her into time out, Suzy told me that she’s allergic to me. Oh God, what if she’s right?
- Did I pack anything for Jasper at ALL?
- Summersummersummersummer.
- I get to see MY SISTERS! But I get to swim in the pool and eat my parents’ cooking more than they do. (My Mom: Keely, is that nice? Me: No. Not really.)
And while my Wednesday RoundUp is going away for a bit, you should all be used to Throwback Mondays (#tbm is a THING). Pictures, captions, and whimsical somesuch will be featured on Thursdays. You can also find me on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, email, and- sweet Lord, is this what going off the grid looks like for me?
Some people just really know how to rough it.
Not me. Others, I mean.
Happy summer, friends.
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