Quote of the day.

Submitted by the always-awesome Auntie Kim…

Gracie: We’re getting bunk beds!
Auntie Kim: Do you get to sleep on the bottom or on the top?
Gracie, with a tone suggesting I was an idiot for thinking a mere 5-year-old could handle the top bunk: Uh, the top.
Auntie Kim: Oh, good.  I used to sleep on the top bunk in Auntie Shayne’s trailer when we were little.  But we had a railing to keep us from falling out.
[pause]
Gracie: Whhyyyy did she have a trailer?
Auntie Kim: Well, she lived in a house most of the time, but her family had a trailer so that we could go visit the lake in the middle of the woods and have fun, roasting marshmallows and playing games and swimming.  And then at the end of the day, instead of having to get in the car and drive alllll the way back home, we could just sleep in the trailer. 
Gracie, under her breath: So that’s what a trailer is…!

A spud by any other name…

…would still hold my entire heart.  Look what I found once upon a night when I was preparing for my trip and riddled with anxiety:

Gracie and Bee declared it the coolest thing evah and pouted that I wouldn’t let them put it in their treasure box. Instead I baked it (with some very tasty barbecued chicken) and gave each of the girls half of my heart(-shaped potato). Mmmm….potatoes by any other name and in any other shape would still taste as nummy. Yes, indeed.

The likes and dislikes of Gracie at 7 years old.

Gracie delights in being dramatic. But for all that, she isn’t very complicated. In fact, I’m waiting for her to change her personality completely any second now because I’m pretty sure I have a decent handle on who she is. And how long do you usually get to enjoy that feeling, moms? Exactly. But at the moment, I give you…

10 Things Gracie Thinks Are “OFF THE HOOK!”

1. Being dramatic. This means big eye rolls, uttering a very nuanced “Oh my GOSH, Mom!” (whine and glare included), loving things to pieces and saying such bits of awesomeness are “OFF THE HOOK!” Gracie, you are my All Caps girl, love.
2. Showing off your spelling skills. You can’t just answer questions like a normal kid anymore. Nooooo – you must spell out your answers. Which is great, really. How else would you learn that horse isn’t spelled h-o-r-e-s? You are learning a lot this way, and even if it means I have to wait e-o-n-s to get an answer, I am mostly okay with it. (Having completed the 1st grade vocabulary and spelling curriculum a month ago and now being most of the way through the 2nd grade curriculum might have something to do with that.)
3. Being right. We’re going to have to work on this a bit this year. (Sigh. It’s good to have goals, right? Even if you’re sure you won’t have any luck because your daughter is stubborn as a mule?) If you happen to give a wrong answer, you say, “Oh, I knew that. I just forgot,” when you’re corrected. You tell others that actually they said <insert made-up wrong answer here> even if they didn’t. You are desperate to not only be right, but to be more right, to be smarter, to be better than everyone else around you. I know you hear this hundreds of times, but Gracie – it’s okay to be wrong. It’s how we learn, sweetie pie.
4. Being sneaky. If I let you stay up five minutes past your bedtime, you try to devise elaborate stories so Bee won’t catch on. The problem is – you’re horrible at it. Downright awful! It’s hard for your mama because I want to teach you my tricks of the trade; it’s instinctual. But then I catch myself and think, Woman, what are you doing? It’s great that she can’t tell a lie to save her bacon!
5. Speaking of bacon – you lurve it! Chocolate you can take it or leave it, but bacon you would run over your entire family to get. In fact, many mornings in the kitchen, you have.
6. Other favorite foods (bacon so totally deserved its own category, so deep and true is your love for it): my meatloaf, salmon, steak with A1 Steak Sauce, spicy chicken wings, baked beans, and pastrami. Oh, and since this practically proves you are my mini-me, I’ll add black jelly beans.
7. Dance music. You like all kinds of music genres, but right now your tastes are leaning more towards Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Rhianna, and lots of other music I have to carefully pre-screen before I let it play out. Thankfully, you are honest to a fault and will tell me when a song comes on, “This has bad words, Mom! Dad lets me listen to it, but you might want to change the channel.” So full of information you are. Heh.
8. Playing Dr. Quinn, reading Little House books, and all things frontier-related. Your eyes lit up when you opened your present from your sister and it was a frontier dress, apron, and bonnet for your fake American Girl doll. You loved that she could look just like you in your old Laura Ingalls Halloween costume that you wear when you play Dr. Quinn. (Pssst….Gracie, it’s almost spring! You can bring your tent outside and play for hours now!)
9. Cheetahs. They are your favorite animal, dude. I hear all about predators and prey; I have to listen to entire conversations in cheetah growls and hissings; you are constantly underfoot as you try to run cheetah-fast on all fours (you do practice – a lot - I’ll give you that). You have a Cheetah book from Auntie Rhi that you have read a million zillion times. Half the time you earned on your read-a-thon was due to that single book. And what movie did you choose to see for your birthday? African Cats. I wasn’t surprised.
10. Reading chapter books. We recently finished reading Beezus and Ramona, which you loved because it depicted the struggles you’re going through with your own little sister. Bee liked hearing us read it because it’s also about being “stuck” as the little sister. Just wait and see how many other books are out there that you will love! And I don’t even mind that you want to be the one who reads aloud now.

Ten Things Gracie Really, Really, Really Dislikes (I mean it!)

1. String beans. Yes, all the things I could have chosen to list first and I went with string beans. I get a fight every single time I make them. She’ll eat them raw – sometimes, with enough Ranch dressing – but will not eat them on a train or in the rain. She does not like them, Sam-I-am.
2. Bedtime. Every night she begs to stay up late. And every night she’s asleep 10 minutes after her head hits the pillow. There’s just so much the girl wants to do!
3. Being wrong. She will make up elaborate stories about why her answer is really right, even when she’s faced with overwhelming evidence and cool, rational logic (and that girl loves her some logic).
4. Not catching on right away. Gracie has an incredible aptitude for thinking around corners. Seriously. The girl could be a code-breaker. If it’s something she’s not supposed to know – like if I’m being sneaky right in front of her – the girl will patiently try to work out the problem. If it’s something she can’t be bothered with – like homework – she pouts and whines and throws down her pencil, declaring she just can’t get it! And why don’t I understand! And urrrrghh! Whine! I just don’t understand how hard it is to be her! Thankfully, I have highly developed skills in both sarcasm and tuning her out. I use both as necessary.
5. Hurting my feelings. Gracie is such a tender-hearted girl with more empathy than is probably good for her. She tells me she doesn’t want to go to her dad’s house because she’s afraid my feelings will be hurt. (I assure her she should have a good time and I am more than okay, don’t worry.) She never feels the reprimand more than when I tell her I am disappointed or that my feelings were hurt. Her pout during such discussions isn’t out of anger or resentment, but disappointment in herself. I think we’re all thankful this doesn’t happen that often!
6. Being told she can’t talk. The need Gracie has to talk is almost equal to her need to breathe. If I tell her she can’t talk until her breakfast is finished, her head just about explodes holding it all in. If I cut her off because I’ve told her I don’t want to hear any more (tattling, justifications, etc.), I get an extra loud AAAAGGGHH! She hates it. Usually I’m pretty annoyed if I’m at the point of making such a proclamation, but I kinda chuckle inside at her reaction. That girl does love to talk.
7. Having to hurry. Gracie, dear, I love you – but you have one speed and one speed only. S-l-o-w. If I tell you to hurry in the mornings, you not only don’t (or can’t) go faster, but then you get annoyed at me for getting annoyed at you for not hurrying. Yeah, our mornings pretty much are guaranteed to dissolve at the mere mention of hurrying.
8. Having to share the television. If I let them watch TV, Gracie doesn’t understand why it can’t be all Dr. Quin, all the time. Bee doesn’t love that show (as she would say), so there are frequently arguments about what to watch. The girls are at great ages for playing together, but television and movies choices seem to be one area where they can never agree.
9. Having to help when she doesn’t wanna. This one is tricky because usually Gracie revels in being my helper, my second little mama. But if she’s not in a mood to help – look. out.
10. Not being able to negotiate her way out of trouble. If Gracie isn’t recruited as a code-breaker, she will definitely go into professional negotiating. The girl loves to justify and argue and wheedle her way out of trouble – and the stinker is good at it. The problem is that sometimes I can’t let her beg and plead her way out of losing a privilege; she needs to learn that doing things that she’s supposed to do (or not, as the case may be) is what she needs to do the first time instead of just “fixing” it later. She hates that. Maybe even more than string beans.

There you go, Gracie-girl. That’s you in a nutshell. (Help, I’m a nutshell! you would laughingly act out. Jokes! I should have added that to the Likes list.) Don’t worry too much over the Dislikes list, even though I know you will. If it helps ease your mind, I whipped through the Likes list and could only think of five Dislikes. I really had to struggle to think of the rest. And that? Means you are just as awesome as ever.

To my brand new seven-year-old on her birthday.

Dear Gracie,

Tonight, at 10:51 p.m. (for you love to know exactly how things work these days), you will turn exactly seven years old. Seven! S-e-v-e-n. Last year I was pretty much blaaaah! about you turning six, but this year I think I’m okay with seven. Know why? It suits you, kiddo. I was trying to pin down the why’s of it this morning, and the best I could come up with is that this past year you have learned how to be much more You. You’re six, but more focused, more refined, more…Gracie-ish. And I have to say – the confidence and the maturity (and yes, still the goofiness) looks fabulous on you, love!

I couldn’t be happier or more proud that you’ve left most of your insecurity behind with your six-year-old self. Have I mentioned your confidence is dazzling? Because, really, it is. School was so much easier for you this year. You really blossomed with your team teachers this year and you love them dearly for teaching you so much of what you crave to know. It makes my heart so happy to see you excited about school instead of literally making your tummy sick over the thought of it like last year. You wanted to invite Mrs. N. and Mrs. D. to your sleepover and didn’t understand why you couldn’t. You complained about having two weeks off for winter break because you wouldn’t get to see Mrs. N. (I think she was secretly happy for the break so she could think up some new things to teach you. You schooled me on capacity and volume the other day, and you’re halfway through the second-grade spelling curriculum. When we applied tape to the end of the yardstick to reach a balloon stuck on top of our cabinets, you told me we made a simple machine. It’s all I can do to keep up with you!

Your confidence has spilled over into your friendships, too. You heard the term “bff” and have declared it your favorite phrase. I hear over and over again how Little A. and Big A. – your besties for years – are your BFFs and how you and Little A. are going to live together when you grow up. I love that you cling so fiercely to “your people” and love that you aren’t afraid to make new friends too. You invited a girl from daycare I’d heard of, but hadn’t met, to your party this year…and left out the fact that she was four years older than you. I didn’t think that she would be interested in attending a 1st-grader’s birthday party, but the thought never occurred to you. Gracie, I hope you never lose that feeling of being where the parties at, being “TOO” cool as you would say. Life is a lot more fun when you are laughing at yourself.

Yes, love, in fact if anything, we might need to gently (oh so gently) try to remind you that you aren’t the center of the ever-loving universe. Not that that’s quite what you think – you tried to give away half your toys when we were choosing what to donate and you gave your sister all of your Easter candy yesterday (although I do suspect you’ll want some back) – so it’s not so much that you’re selfish. It’s more that there isn’t a single note of humility in your ginormous vocabulary. It’s your biggest flaw by far. Now, don’t freak, Gracie – I can hear you freaking all the way from here. Having a teeny tiny flaw – one that’s a little cute (for now), and just a little annoying – isn’t the worst thing in the world. Everyone has flaws. Yes, I know you know that because you’re frequently pointing them out. So don’t panic that you have one too. You don’t need to say that others messed up when they didn’t, just so that you can be more right. And you don’t need to always think you’re the best at something. I promise with all my heart that I couldn’t possibly love you more even if you were perfect. It’s such a hard lesson, Gracie-girl, but you’re growing up so quickly and I think you can start to understand this: always try to better yourself, but be ready to forgive yourself if you fall. Revel a little in your mistakes. Laugh at them if you can. Believe your friends (your true friends…and your mama) if they tell you that you need to work on something. Even grown-ups don’t get it right. You finally are starting to understand what I mean when I tell you my job is to teach you how to be the best person I can, and that sometimes that means scolding your or telling you no. Well you know what? YOU have to teach yourself, too. Don’t worry, Gracie-boo – if anyone can do this, it’s you.

Yes, this year, the Year of Seven, I can tell it’s going to be a good one! We are moving into Middle Childhood. It’s a year of Beverly Clearys and other chapter books I have been waiting to read with you since you were born, a year of complicated Barbie plots to act out and fashion shows for me to judge, the year of your own library card and getting to stay unsupervised in the children’s room, a year of American Girl look-a-likes and playing Frontier outside. Your eyes sparkle every single day, Gracie, at the possibility of all the things you can play and learn. You are dazzled by the world right now and I, sweet girl of mine, am dazzled by you.

Happy Birthday, Gracie-boo. I am so honored that I get to share this year and all of its adventures with you. I love you, kiddo!

Quote of the Day

The girls and I were running our surprisingly few errands on Saturday afternoon. Usually we’re trying to get everywhere, do everything, and save the world – but for some reason, all we had to do was run through the drive-through at Walgreen’s. [Sometimes I think that if I didn't make my inevitable Walgreen's run one week, they'd send out a Missing Persons report for us.] But that’s not really the point. The point is that we weren’t hurried and despite having gotten little-to-no sleep, my girlies were in great moods. We were stopped at a red light next to another car when I heard:

Bee: Look, Mom – those kids are eating ice cream! In their car!
Me: That is crazy! I would never do that – it would be waaaay too messy.
Bee: I know! It would get all over the place. Right, Gwacie?
Gracie: Ohmygosh! That looks so messy! I bet they live in a trailer.
Me, not knowing how to correct the impression that trailer-living=trashy: Um….
Gracie, oblivious my pause: <sigh> I wish I lived in a trailer, Mom.

Perhaps so she could have ice cream in the car? Yes, let’s go with that.

CrazySweet, neurotic, and over.

I had a funny recap of Gracie’s sleepover party all ready in my head – written in between madcap moments during the party – but having come out the other side, now I find the words have…disappeared. Oh, the party was still a success. Gracie is still floating off the ground with newfound status as One Who Holds Sleepovers. Rather, it’s me who is left unsure of what just happened.

In my first post, the one I created in my head, I had a dozen or so humorous moments twisted together: how I cowered tactfully stayed out of sight in my bedroom with my laptop and a book while the girls destroyed played in the big room; how I mistakenly ignored the loud declaration that someone had a Great! Idea!…and found all twenty of the helium balloons had been cut from their strings and were floating on the ceiling; how one friend asked to call her mom to get her at 9pm, only to ask her mom when she got here to go home and bring her sleeping bag, and then change her mind again and ask to go home; how I almost list the birthday cake (and the counter) on fire with re-igniting sparkler candles that really seemed like a good idea at the time. Yes, I had lots of funny stories drafted for you. But now that it’s time to write them all out for reals, I feel sad and nostalgic, like it a bittersweet crazy-fun-neurotic milestone has passed me by forever and goodness gracious – I want it back.

Gracie’s first sleepover is over. Done. A milestone reached. My oldest daughter navigated her way through yet another milestone and now, 24 hours later, instead of glorying in being rid of the giggling masses with my wits intact, I’m wishing the battle was still in front of us. Gracie handled herself with such aplomb, reminding her friends of the rules (no playing in mom’s bedroom, no going in the guest/craft room, no opening the doors in the morning when the house alarm is on) and making sure that her sister was allowed to partake in the fun. I was so proud of how mature she acted. Sure, she fed off of her rambunctious friends’ antics and I had to remind them all to play Dead Puppy or Horse Races a little more quietly, but for the most part, I didn’t have to intercede. Gracie ran the show in such a way that I just needed to check in every once in awhile.

I hope when Gracie grows older and sleepovers become the norm instead of a treat, when she’s hosting her daughter’s first sleepover, that she remembers. I can’t remember my first “girls only” slumber party, but I do remember it took me forever to make it through the night on my own at my cousin’s or even my Gram’s. The problem there was that when I stayed at my cousin Hoot’s house, he would scare the crap out of me, telling me that Dracula lived on the second floor and would walk through his room every night when he descended to hunt the night, or making spooky sounds, or grabbing my foot during the night and trying to make me scream. Yeah, I much preferred having a friend over at my house – is it any wonder?

When I did graduate to group sleepovers, I wondered what the heck I had been so scared of. We tried to scare ourselves, watching Jaws marathons at Jenny’s house and scaring ourselves so badly when the lights went out that we had to run through the house to the bakery where her dad worked. (Fresh donuts at midnight fix everything, it turns out.) We giggled over boys, made prank calls, and a pair of us, inevitably, stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, bonding over secrets that could never come out in front of so many friends together. The six of us girls who grew up together became tighter with every sleepover. And now Gracie is stepping into that territory, navigating her way through middle childhood. I don’t know why, but it feels certain that this sleepover marked the beginning of her journey.

That’s the bitter part of this sweet: she did remarkably well. I wasn’t called to intercede. Friends didn’t squabble. There was no drama. I wasn’t needed, other than to serve the cake and snap pictures during presents. Oh, and to change the movies and start the wii, but only because those are just out of reach. (Maybe I should put more things out of reach so I’m needed a little bit longer?) An entire day’s worth of experiences happened with me no only on the fringes, but out of the loop entirely and the further Gracie movies through Middle Childhood, the more that will become the rule instead of a singular example. I have to remember that this is the way it’s supposed to be. So many happy memories (and teary ones, too) happened for me and it’s wonderful that my daughter is going to laugh and discover and good lord CHAT and CHAT and CHAT as much as I did.

So yes, to answer everyone’s questions: we survived the sleepover. So far. Now we’re off along a yellow-brick road of all new adventures.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I’m late posting today – but I swear, I have a very good reason. No, the dog didn’t eat my post. (Most likely because we don’t have a dog.) I didn’t give into exhaustion and combust after Operation: NoMoHo. And I didn’t get trapped under the mountain of unpacking I still have to do.

No, I’ve been cleaning. My Harry Potter marathon is running in the background (a certain new movie arrived while I was gone), I’ve vaccuumed, put away toys, pushed couches against walls, and washed, dried, folded and put away several piles of laundry. Yes, I’ve lost my mind – but that happened a few weeks ago. You see, I kinda sorta told Gracie she could have a sleepover party (her first ever!) for her birthday. And that sleepover is tonight.

Clearly, I’ve lost my mind. I’m not even unpacked from excavating my mom’s attic. But like I said – it seemed like a good idea at the time. It’s cheaper than a full blown party, much less preparation (ha!), and Gracie thought it was the coolest(!) idea(!) evah! I don’t think my girlfriends and I started with the sleepover parties until we were a bit older, but we had them in onesies and twosies by now. It should be fine – half of her friends live on our street, should we have a meltdown in the wee hours of the morning. Hopefully after a night of wii-dancing and playing beauty shop, the girls will pass out sometime before midnight. Pick-up time is at 10 tomorrow morning - so I won’t have to entertain cranky, sleepless girls for long. No, my biggest worry is what to do with my own girls come afternoon tomorrow. I’m thinking a long afternoon at the park might be in order!

All right – break’s over. I need to get back to hiding sharpies, stashing emergency mixed drinks in my room, and making it look like the adults who live here clean the place once in awhile. Not that I’m too worried – if I could make it through last week without a sibling squabble, surely I can handle a gaggle of giggling seven-year-olds….right??

Operation:NoMoHo – Find #1

One of the more awesome aspects of Operation:NoMoHo was clearly unearthing treasures that we had long since forgotten. I brought a few of them home in my carry-on because I had promised the girls (especially the Bee-girl who was sobbing at the thought of my leaving for a week) that I would bring them back some of these treasures. Some of the treasures will wait until Christmas (or a birthday) rolls around; some clearly had to be paid out now.

One of the gifts that just needed to be handed out now was one of Auntie Kim’s old dresses. My mom made her this dress because the prints were girly and prim and proper and almost what Kim would have called (at the time) Victorian. Kim was allllll about that girly crap when she was younger. And so my mom made her this dress for Christmas. When we found it, Kim was happy with keeping a picture of it before we donated it. I, however, took one look at it and knew I had to keep it for the girls.

You might have heard that my girls – Gracie, in particular – are a wee-bit obsessed with Dr. Quinn? And I might have mentioned that they will play-act Dr. Quinn and prairie days and living on the frontier and all that. Gracie dresses up in her Laura Ingalls costume that I made her for Halloween two years ago. Bee is left scrounging in the dress-up box and feels rather left out. Kim’s dress was my great equalizer. Bee would not only get a treasure, but she would also have a dress that looked like it could fit the proper time-period…to a five-year-old, at least.

I think she’s a little thrilled:

Yes, all is well now. Or, I should say, all was well once Bee got over the tantrum she pitched because I wouldn’t let her wear it to school. Now we will see how quickly I can make her a bonnet and apron – hopefully before this frontier stage fades!

My life welcomes me back.

Operation: NoMoHo is over. I have lots to say about it – hopefully I remember half of what I was too exhausted to blog about while I was gone – but for now I have just a quick bit of updatery goodness before I dive into my overflowing inbox.

Kim and I (and frequently either Rhi or Joey) would drive back to Connecticut each night because my mom’s house is short on sleeping spaces – especially since we had half the attic strewn across the “big room” upstairs. Every time we made the trek, I made fun of the giant blue sign that gushed, “Connecticut welcomes you!” Oh, I certainly feel welcome, I would joke. Because I am a riot, yo.  Well, yesterday, after two pleasantly uneventful flights back to Texas, I was bombarded by just a few of the many things that had gone wrong at ThePlaceThatShallNotBeNamed, received a text that we had been issued a tornado watch, decided I wanted to trade the muggy 98° I was blanketed in with the rather refreshing 42° I had just mocked CT for, and had to stand in line at the groceria for 15 minutes because they lost electricity just as I started to check out. If I wasn’t completely without milk, bread, and sandwich fixings for lunches, I would have abandoned all missions and gone home to the last of my chocolate.

Milk successfully purchased, I took one look at the sky and decided to grab my chickies a little early from school so we didn’t get caught up in the storms that were starting to pop up. After being bowled over by the best. hugs. ever!, Gracie told me her ear had been hurting wicked bad all day. And she was stuffy. Bonus round: ear infection! So off we went to her pediatrician. And then the pharmacy because – duh! – I was right about her ear. Only it was going to be a two-hour wait for her meds. That’s when I pretty much decided to call it a night. 

We almost beat the storms home, too. With just a few miles to go, while I was watching a funny little conical thing dip from a cloud over our heads and trying to decide if that was a band of rain that was stretching up towards it or some swirling dusty stuff, the Ex texted me to say he was getting golf-ball sized hail at work (which is a block from our house) and the sirens were going off there. And that is why I considered it a win that we only got beat with a single hail stone the size of a house. By the time  we got home, the line of storms had passed us.

After that, the rest of the night was a piece of cake. And I? Slept like the freaking dead.

My life, I have come back to it. I just don’t know if the sign says “Your life welcomes you!” so much as “Ha ha ha ha ha!”

Psyching myself up for Operation:NoMoHo.

Tomorrow morning I leave for Connecticut, the staging area for Operation:NoMoHo (or,  No More Hoarding if you’re so inclined). I’m trying to psych myself up for what will be a gut-wrenching, stress-inducing, emotional trip. Working in and digging out my own personal Bastille mom’s attic, at the house which is so cluttered and transformed from the childhood haven it used to be, is going to be hard enough. Then there are the potential squabbles over sentimental heirlooms. And trying not to fight with my mom, who insists she is miraculously transformed with new Parkinson’s drugs (but can’t remember a thirty minute detailed convo from the day before)… yeah, this is going to be so not fun.

Thus – the psyching myself up! Somebody throw my some damn pom poms and I swear I’ll go all rah-rah just as soon as I finish my giant mug of caffeine. Because there could be some goodtimes:

• Finding childhood treasures…and teasing Kim about how many of them she doesn’t remember. The other day I remembered two brooches that were absolute treasures when we were little. One of them I fascinated over to the extent that even the plain, completely and utterly un-noteworthy metal clasp that held the pin fastened on the back seemed mystical and magical to me. Whoever found that brooch when we were little would hide it in a secret hidey-hole and keep it secreted away for months. Of course, Kim doesn’t remember hardly anything from, say, earlier than age 12, so I am going to have to explain why I am so excited to find all of these toys and baubles.
• Playing anthropologist. It’s possible that Kim and I might have to pretend we’re famous curators excavating someone’s hidden stash of…well, junk and rubble…in order to make it through the week. Emotional distance and imagination – that’s the ticket. (Shoosh – we get a giant time-out from Grown-up Land this week.) I bought a ledger that we can use to catalogue all of our finds and keep track of what was done with each item – trashed, sent to which sibling, or kept in the attic. That way we can hopefully stave off some of the fights later when the sibs start squabbling over who has more of mom’s things. I’m also planning on photographing everything. Lots of pictorials to come!
• Niko’s. If you think the thought of having my favorite pizza and fish & chips (and grinders…and fried clams…) hasn’t kept me a little more sane this past week, you’re nuts.
• Piles and piles of books! I have four (or five) books that I want to take with me for the plan. I’m making myself narrow it down to three. (Because seriously – taking more than three books in my carry-on is crazy…right?) I think I’ve settled on Emma Donoghue’s Room, David Wroblewski’s The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, and Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice as my fall-back. Ooh, wait – maybe Joe Hill’s Heart-Shaped Box. No, maybe I could re-read Hunger Games…
• There will be much drinking and wii-dancing and visiting with friends. Because holy hell, I am going to need something to revive me after keeping family drama at bay all day long.
• The extremely awesome and incredibly fun mix tapes CDs that I made for the drive back and forth to the Woo. I cannot wait to see how they’re received. Heh. (After I surprise my sister, I will totally post my playlists. Yes, they’re that awesome.)
• Whenever I fly (or drive) back home, I always get a little excited at the possibility of running into old friends. Since I am planning to be grubby and I’ve packed exactly one cute outfit, I’m sure karma will make this the trip for that to happen. Doesn’t matter – I am still much hotter and just as hilarious. (Maybe a touch more modest, though.)

That’s it. That’s my list (my mantra?) to help me stay focused on staying sane as I voluntarily step into a time-machine tomorrow morning. Wish me luck!