Pre-trip anxiety already

I'm planning some advance details for our trip Up North over Christmas. Notice how I'm not calling it a vacation? It's only a vacation if you don't take your kids. ;)

We've had the airline reservations since spring, but had no rental car. I think I have a car rental, but I'm not sure. I mean, I spent 10 minutes on the phone with a really nice guy, but at the last minute, his computer locked up, and, well, if I don't get email soon, I'll call them back. (sigh) Progress...

I'm hoping (after I finish curing cancer) to pack brand new toiletries and all our cold weather clothes into two suitcases and put them in the car by the 22nd. We're limited to two suitcases, each a maximum of 80" total size WxLxD and 50 pounds. I don't see that being a problem, she said blithely...

After all, we only own one sweater apiece, and the kids only own one pair of shoes apiece that are closed-toe. I'm thinking three pair of pants, four long-sleeved t-shirts, one sweater, and some underwear. The kind relatives Up North are getting us real coats and boots. I don't think the fleece-lined sweatshirts the kids use for the depths of winter here will do. Somehow.

Why does this sound so easy? Brrr. Chills.

my upcoming "week off" -- hahaha!

I'm trying to get into the habit of making a small brain-dump every day. 'Cause every day (in the shower) I think of something cool and witty to put here. By the time I get on the computer and get the kids to stop reading over my shoulder, it's just gone. I wonder if there's a word for that. Maybe "blog fart"? Hmm.

I have next week off from school, so I'm hoping to clean the house, write up an interim report on the kids homeschool progress, make The Girl a desk, prune the shrubs, set out the advent stuff, power wash the patio, make an appointment for a good portrait of the kids, and cure cancer. No problem.

I found the desk that I want for The Girl, but it's just a tiny bit out of my price range. Apparently, I have a love/hate relationship with Crate and Barrel. I think with about $100 in lumber, I can make her something simpler but pretty. Her "drawing" has taken over our foyer, and it's time to move it along to another room. I'm thinking it should have its own shop vac attached, but that might drive the price up. ;)

Christmas in the Suburbs

Suburban Correspondent is taking a vow of simplicity this Christmas. No early planning, no months of working ahead to make The Season "magical". It's "start late and keep it simple" for her this year. I did that one Thanksgiving, and LOVED IT. But I think the complexity of Christmas calls for a little more planning...

If I don't start early, I miss something dear to me -- or my dear husband. I lay out what I need, set dates, and get on it. We also have mail issues. I've given up on "magical", and am going for "happy".

I'm sooo trying to reach Christmas well rested for a change. I'm usually over-tired and nauseated. Not a good start to The Day.

We've pared down the preparations to the essentials, and are trying to keep it cool. Otherwise, I'm not going to fit in the twins' birthday, Christmas, packing for our flight on the 26th, and leaving a fairly hygienic house.

So, short answer, nope, no sale. We're still on the treadmill -- out of sheer self-defense.

On the town!

I hired my first ever babysitter. Okay, it's for a parents' night out at the church -- the supervision is abysmal -- but it's still a babysitter. I'm borrowing another mom-of-autistic-child's older daughter. This lovely thirteen-year-old has been told that even if total chaos breaks out and someone incurs a compound fracture, she MUST stay with Lora. She's Lora's shadow. Here's hoping it works out, 'cause I really need a date night out. If it works, it'll be the best $15 I've spent in years.

We're going out for Thai food in central Florida -- wish us luck... ;)

just a shortie

Funny thought -- yesterday, I was walking down the beach, killing an hour, and it occurred to me that it felt strange, almost awkward, walking without pushing a shopping cart. It was oddly upright. How weird is that?

The Great Experiment (and a catch up on homeschool)

Hmm. This is the end of the first week of my Great Experiment. Mostly, this means that I'm trying to see what my brain will do without any carbohydrates.

So far, so good. I have this strange, oddly lucid feeling, especially in the evening. Of course that may be the extra caffeine. Yeah, yeah, I know -- Atkins says that coffee has carbs. That was reason #1 I didn't go with him. Seriously, it's enough to elbow out pasta, but coffee and tea? Bite me!

I read the greatest thing in a book last night called When You Eat at the Refrigerator, Pull Up a Chair. It says that a diet becomes a non-diet when saying no to selected foods feels more like blessing yourself with health and vitality, rather than depriving yourself of onion rings. Wow. I actually feel that way sometimes.

On the school front, I've given up yelling at kids. I've been doing too much of it lately. The neighbors are going to call the little guys in the white suits if they hear me scream, "Stop screaming!!" one more time. Seriously. I'm disengaging. Wish me luck...

GET BUSY, BOY!

It would be nice if The Boy would just frickin' DO THE WORK without complaining once in a while. Apparently, just the thought of writing a paragraph or doing a page of grammar just sends him into a coma.

I switch between several ways of handling it, which is, of course, the worst thing I could do. My inclination is toward logical consequences, rather than nagging: "You can do your work when you want, but you won't get any 'screen time' until it's done."

But then I ended up teaching an eight hour day, so I went to plan B: "I can work with you on science and reading from 9:30 to 10:30; otherwise, you have to get your independent work done yourself."

But you KNOW I'm not missing my play date on Wednesday afternoons, so that messes up the whole "prisoner of his own work" thing. I dunno. I just feel like I'm fishing now.

Honestly, how can one kid sleep 9 hours a night and still be able to pass out during school hours? Oy.