As the girls and I prepare (or I should say, I prepare) to head off for a few days to visit the grandparents I am finding that part of the parental job description should be running stairs.
What I mean is this. I have a bag packed that includes my clothing and toiletry items. Then I have one for each of the girls. PJs, matching clothing purchased by the grandparents aunts and uncles (because we must show them as much as possible in items purchased by our dear familyJ), diapers, pull ups, an assortment of books for night time, books for the car, a DVD player, toys, shoes, sippy cups for day and night, bibs, snacks that very well could feed an entire family of four yet there are only two small children, as well as a plethora of other items, namely baby monitors, fans or other noise machines to make it seamless that they are sleeping somewhere else than their own beds… This list goes on and on and I feel like I am recapping for an episode off Jon & Kate. This for a matter of hours, truly. About 72 give or take. How is it that a combined 55lbs have so many things?
So, on to the stairs.
My loving husband—who isn’t even involved in this journey--now schelps these items to and from the bedrooms, down the stairs and into the car, only to have me ask his over and over again, did you pack the toothbrushes? Check. How about the bodywash? Check. Towels? Check. Stuffed Elmo, favorite pillows…? Let me check…
So now I have calculated that I have run the stairs about eight times in the past three hours. Not bad compared to what my hubby has done. I think he’s log his gym time right here on the steps without touching a stairclimber!
And the funny thing is this. About an hour into our travels I will realize the inevitable. We forgot something.
8 years ago
