Vay-Cay-Tion

We just took a family vacation to the snow this last week.  I use the term "vacation" loosely, speaking as the mother figure in the household.

I think there should be some sort of reality show that involves packing up a family of 7 for a week,  for a camping trip in the Alaskan wilderness during its sunny season, January or February.  Only a four door vehicle could be used.  No SUV's allowed.  And none of those special packing holders that go on top of the car either...that would be considered cheating.

Okay, I changed my mind about the SUV thing.  I could win a show like that.  Or maybe I would go insane first.  But if I make it to an asylum, aren't we all winners?

I swear, whenever we go on a family "vacation", I start the process of loading items into bags, a WEEK before we're actually on the road.  And if for some reason we get stranded, or stuck, or my head spontaneously combusts, the entire family will have enough food, water, and clothes to last them a year, minimum.

 Part of it is my own fault.  I'm a psycho organizer, and I don't want to stop at the damn grocery store for something which I may have forgotten at home.

The only exception to this rule, is if we run out of alcohol.  That, in and of itself, warrants a trip to the local grocery store to stock up.  In fact, when the twins are old enough to drive, I have already made the executive decision that they can borrow my driver's license to go buy mama her potato juice.  I do enough around here.

I especially love packing for snow trips.  Everyone in the family needs the following to have "fun" in the snow:

1.  A snow bib that actually fits, even if the kids have had a growth spurt, and the pants that you JUST bought last year, look like a pair of Capri's.

2.  A water resistant winter coat, preferably with a hood.  If some one's jacket doesn't have a hood, pack Saran Wrap and make your own hood.  A plastic Target bag will also suffice.

3.  Enough socks to warm a small nation of midgets.

4.  Gloves that fit; they can't be too big, or too small.  This all changes when their hands get wet, and the damn things won't go on over their paws anyways.

5.  A snow hat.   Cowboy hats and those of that sort,  just won't cut it when you're trudging through 2 feet of fresh powder, with a 4 month old strapped to your midsection in a Baby Bjorn.

6.  Snow boots that fit, or that you can at least shove their feet into.

When the Walsh family goes to the snow, that gear alone, takes up the entire back of our Yukon.  I'm just gonna start strapping kids to the top of the truck with bungee cords, so I don't have to endure the never ending question of, "Are we there yet?  How much longer?"

Note, each child asks this question with a different whiny intonation about a thousand times.  And it's times like those, when I ask myself, why the hell I didn't pack a road soda.  If you don't know what a road soda is, we can't be friends anymore.

And the timing with the baby is KEY.  The car needs to be packed with all gear, including snacks and lunches, books and toys, with all occupants having emptied their bladders, as Charlotte comes off my breast.  Because if THAT timing isn't right, we're all gonna be screwed.  We have 3 hours people.  3 hours before little Charlie starts howling for more boobie.  MOVE IT!

 See what I mean?  This really could be a reality show.

I may gripe and complain about the packing and all that, but you know what?  This is what family memories are made of, God Damnit.

Nothing can compare to hearing your kids belt out at the top of their lungs, "It's SNOWING!  It's SNOWING!  Oh my gosh Mom.  It's magic!"

Unless they're yelling that out at 5 am...which, has happened before.  Cocktail hour comes especially early on those days.

Life in all of its simplicity I've found, is the key to happiness.  We haven't introduced the girls to skiing yet.  Why?  Partly due to the cost.  Partly because the one time I skied myself, I was too scared to get off of the lift.  There was a hill, and I was a beginner, and I was on the top of a MOUNTAIN!    But mainly, because the girls are just so darn happy playing in the snow.  The girls are content with snowball fights, drinking hot cocoa, and sledding.

Until someone gets hit in the lip with a jagged icicle.  That's happened before too.  See, that's where having alcohol on hand is really important for sterilizing the wound.  A little for me, a little for you.

Seriously, packing up, and making the trek to Arnold is the highlight for our girls.  I know that they will remember these trips for the rest of their lives.

And you know what?  I will too.