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Oh stress! It's all in the getting there. Organization is the key or so I have read. So, I organize, I anticipate, and I set all my pretty little ducks in a row. Oh, what a beautiful thing. But know ahead of time, your family will not see the splendor of your organized vision.

The pandemonium caused by my families' own procrastination has driven me to the border of madness - not the road trip I was looking for. I have actually envisioned myself, just loading up, getting in, and driving off without them. It's a really cool vision by the way, just little ole organized me, enjoying the forest and the trees. But, what would the family vacation be without the family. So, I plan.

I have made camping reservations months in advance. At that time I also begin "hunting and gathering" the equipment. I find that if I initiate the effort, the guilt will set in, and as a result, they participate. At this point I also start nagging. This is in an effort to make sure that each person has what they need. "Do you know where such and such is and do you think it will still?" I will repeat this question and many others during the time the vacation. But you will never hear them say "Thanks mom, for reminding me", or better yet "yeah I found that yesterday, it fits perfectly", nope, you won't be hearing that. They don't appreciation being reminded that if they would just get up and do, it would be done. I don't care, I remind them anyway.

The week before, my world is in order. Whew, good for me, right? But, I look at the rest the families' progress, and find none. Such and such has not been located, and backpacks are still empty, and why are they just lounging on the couch. There are things to do. So I remind them, somewhat impatiently, of what they will need. I hear a great sigh and the words "Oh mom, we got this". I walk away muttering to myself, "I got this, my" and so on, you get the picture. The road to angry is just up ahead, and I fight it off the urge to follow it.

Now, it is the night before. I glance in the bag I share with my husband, and I have to assume he's going to spend his vacation naked. I throw his stuff together, and grab the first aid kit. I look around, backpacks are empty, but the fishing poles sit by the door, and the boy says he's ready. She's slightly better prepared, she has her phone anyway. I hit Major Mom Mode, "get your clothes, what about soap, aren't you going to bath?" "Don't forget the shampoo". "Load those poles, tote that pail", urghh and all that stuff. The husband, having been around longer, is a little smarter. He casually removes himself from the couch to begin the loading process.

We rise with the sun, and with a last ditch effort, we locate such and such, and by golly it fits. Hurray! Load the last bit and we are on our way. Oh, no not quite. "Whoops", my darling husband says, "I guess with everything else, I forgot to fill the car". I briefly ask myself, "do we live in the same house?" I get that vision again, except this time the vehicle is moving, and I toss him out. I shake off this last bit of residual madness, the vacation has begun.

Oh vacation, the thought of it brings me peace. The frustration of the last few weeks will soon dissolve, as I play and relax in the destination of my choice.

Learn more about this author, Kathleen Ray.
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