Monday, August 15, 2011


Our family vacations are some of my fondest and most distinct memories. I loved going on trips. I loved packing into our astro-van, and hitting the road. The anticipation of going on a trip would hit me days, even weeks before we left. I would make lists of what I needed to pack, then make sure not to wear any of it for a week before I left, just to make sure it was clean for the trip. I would pack my bag days before, and pester my mom for an Estimated Time of Departure, so that I knew what time to set on my alarm. 

The night before we left I would have dreams all night that I slept through my alarm. I would become a wide-eyed-blurr-of-anticipation,  jumping out of bed to add things to my bag I was sure to need on the trip. 

Sure I packed my pink tam with the purple bow, but what about my white hat with the white flower? What would I do without that? 

My sticker collection! I can't forget that. What if someone wanted to see it!

Inevitably, the morning of departure we would get going later than planned. I would sit with my huge pink duffle bag packed to the point of explosion, as well as a separate bag full of things to occupy me in the van (usually just food, markers & paper... 3 of my favorite things!). It would frustrate me to no end to see my mom wiping down bathroom mirrors, and vacuuming (Always with the vacuum!) an hour after we were supposed to be out the door. I would whine and complain, and probably never offer to help, so that we could get out the door faster. I just didn't get it! We will be gone! Who cares if the floor has been vacuumed!

After a quick prayer and a reminder to use the washroom we would hit the road. We would sometimes make it passed the neighbour's, sometimes to then end of the block, and occasionally to the outskirts of town before something was announced:

"I forgot to lock the door."  
"I forgot my tooth brush."
"We forgot the dog." 

Then the turn around, the park in the driveway, and the rush inside. If we missed the bathroom or the prayer on the first round, we would hit it on the 2nd... and sometimes the 3rd. 

Well, we are going to Seattle tomorrow. And yet again I have become a wide-eyed-blurr. It's 2:13 am, and we are planning on catching the 7 am ferry. That means that I need to be awake in less than 3 hours... and yet here I am! Wet finger nails, wet hair, and a house, I might add, in order. I get it now- the vacuuming. To get home from a trip- even a day trip- to a messy house is one of the
I hate walking in the door to smell a stenchy garbage, or see dishes in the sink. 
I know it seems crazy (especially to my husband) to stay up way too late to fold laundry, do dishes, and vacuum the floor. But to walk in to a clean house, after a long drive is such a great feeling. It's like a fresh-out-of-the-dryer-hug... I just really love it. 

I'm still me- I saved this weeks laundry until today because I wanted to make sure my favorites of Roland's clothes would be clean. I packed way too many clothes for a 3 day trip. I have my car bag ready- snacks, books & all.  And I can't sleep. 

So in reality, not much has changed. I still love going on trips. I just appreciate a vacuumed floor before I leave. 


1 comment: