My cousin is getting married Saturday close to Seattle and I get to go! Hooray! I haven't seen this particular cousin since my own wedding nine years ago and I haven't been to visit her there since my grandma died when I was in college. The MOST exciting part of the trip, however, is that I'm going by MYSELF. Hmmm... let's see... when was the last time I went anywhere by myself for 4 days? (Here's a hint: never.) Not since Bug (my oldest) was born, at least. So I'm excited to fly alone, reading a book, dozing when it suits me. What will I miss? My husband and kids, of course. I hate to be away for so long, but we didn't have the money or the time to spare for anyone else. What will I not miss? Goldfish crumbs all over my lap, three squirmy kids having to go potty six hundred and thirty-two times during a 6 hour flight, putting shoes back on four people (me plus kids) after going through security and sweating through my clothes from stressing about holding up everyone behind us, and reading books about Fancy Nancy and dinosaurs and planets.
So, what did I do all morning to prepare, you ask? Perhaps pack? That would have been the smart thing, but instead I reorganized my bedroom bookshelf.
So tonight, when I start to panic about not being ready to go, I guess I'll just throw some stuff in a suitcase and hope I didn't forget anything important. Because nothing else matters when your bookshelf is organized, right?