Vacation Plans

My little family is planning a vacation. It's our first big time away since our daughter was born a year ago, so of course I am concerned about remembering to pack all of the required baby paraphernalia. To be honest, I'm a bit of an obnoxious uber-planner whenever I travel, baby or not, complete with extensively detailed lists of everything we could possibly need. If my husband were in charge of the packing he would throw a few outfits and a pair of shoes into a bag for each person, grab some diapers and the formula, and be ready to go without any attendant anxiety. Bless his heart. How I envy him. 

But I'm the one in charge of packing, so everyone in the house is stuck with Psycho-Planner Mommy until the moment we leave. I probably owe my son an ICEE from Target at this point. 

Even with all of my forethought and notes and lists, there is one elusive, but very important item, that I am consistently forgetting: the joyous fact that we are going on vacation!!! It's so obvious that I completely overlook it, or just bury it beneath the mound of work that I impose on myself in order to get ready to actually go. Because not only do I like to wash all the laundry in order to be able to pack whatever I want/need, I also like to clean my entire house so I come home to a nice fresh space. And all of that busyness and planning and doing and stressing makes me feel necessary, important, indispensable. What it actually makes me is tired, tiresome, and trying.

Since we started planning the vacation and the initial excitement wore off, I have been swallowed up in details. For maybe one minute I have stuck my head above the fray that I created and realized how exciting it is to experience a new place with the three people I love the most and find the most joy in spending time with. I haven't concentrated on the fact that I get to introduce my daughter to the beach, and watch my son wade out into the ocean with his dad (the OCEAN?!). Even the car ride has potential. Sure, it could be miserable. The mini's in the backseat might fuss and whine the entire way, and that would be unpleasant for all of us. But bathroom stops are inevitable, and that's always a chance to see a few cool spots off the interstate in some little town in the middle of nowhere. The ride could be a lot of fun (especially since I stole all the cool toys and am saving them expressly for that purpose). Maybe we will find a great rest stop with trees and grass and space for my son to run off some energy. Or we might stop at an ice cream shop with wrought iron tables and chairs and brightly striped umbrellas out front, and I can introduce my girl to the deliciousness that is butter pecan ice cream. Who knows what adventures are out there?!?

What I am realizing now, as the preparation is at a fever pitch and departure is imminent, is that I have forgotten to be thankful. This vacation is a gift to me, from my husband, and I have chosen to turn it into a chore. It's a chance to give my kids new experiences, good, bad, and everything in between, and I've focused on what they are going to wear. Why did I bury my head in all of those petty details? Sure, we've got to wear something, but is it a life or death issue if it's cute, or even matches? Sheesh. The smallness of it all, in the face of such a grand and loving gesture. But my husband is good at this. He's been doing it for almost ten years now, extending grace and love to me in the face of my ungracious thanklessness. He learned it from our Father, who has done the same for him, and me, over and over again. 

I'm about to go shopping to buy a few last minute necessities. But I think I can try to keep my head above it all and operate under thankfulness now, instead of being driven by the need to plan every last detail. I think that now I can extend a little grace to myself and enjoy this experience that we call vacation. 

Maybe I'll stop by Target and get that ICEE after all.

-Ashley