preparing for the invasion

I am typing this post at 1:30 AM, when I should be in bed doing this...

By the time it publishes, we (hopefully) will be safely aboard our direct flight en route to Atlanta, Georgia. After our situation last year of getting trapped in Dallas-Fort Worth for the night, I've decided that from this point on, so long as I am traveling with small children, direct flights are the only to go. Even if it means that once you arrive, you need to rent a car and drive two plus hours to your final destination because direct flights from San Diego to Greenville-Spartanburg are ... how shall we say, nonexistent.

Even though tomorrow - or rather today, will be a busy one of travel, I'm having a very difficult time sleeping because my mind is filled with thoughts of Jack and Deana.

I am so sad to think that a woman in the prime of her life was struck down by the ruthless disease that is cancer. It will haunt me forever that those two little boys have lost the mother who went through so much to have them. I hope that they will grow up knowing how much she loved them and how much she wanted to stay.

I just wish... I just wish she were still here and cancer was a disease that could be easily treated with a dose of something that is served up in a cookie.

I'm hopeful that one day.

One day, we will cure it.

Because we are leaving tomorrow on vacation, I spent the latter half of the day cleaning.

At the moment, and for the first time since the LAST time we went on vacation, the house is totally picked up and everything is done. The floors are mopped, the area rugs are vacuumed, all of the furniture is dusted and our plants are sitting in the sink with a small amount of water, to keep them sufficiently hydrated for the time we are away.

All of the bills have been paid. A stop has been placed on our mail. The water heater has been turned down. The refrigerator has been emptied of perishable items. And the water to the ice maker on our refrigerator has been turned off. Neighbors have been informed we'll be out of town and have been asked to keep a look out for our house.

A total of twelve bags have been packed. All of these bags we intend to bring ON THE PLANE with us tomorrow because the thought of paying $240.00, on top of the $400.00 plane tickets, to check our bags is absolutely ludicrous. We'll also be bringing one carseat on the plane and a stroller - that we will check at the gate. Charlie printed out our boarding passes tonight, and all six of us, will be in a single row from 27A through 27F.

Chances are, there will be a lot of bananas and Teddy Grahams consumed during the flight. Possibly peanuts and a whole bunch of pretzels. If things go awry, I plan to toss handfuls of M&Ms and chewable Benadryl in the air.

In Atlanta, we'll be renting a twelve (12!!) passenger van that will be equipped with three rented booster seats for the triplets because why drag three carseats cross-country when you can rent them? The big van is to accommodate my mom and Jim - and the rest of their homeowner's association - if any of them should care to join us for a trip to the beach, or mountains, or grocery store ... next week.

Once in Greenville, South Carolina - we will be settling in with my mother and Jim in their two bedroom, two bathroom condominium. Now before you go thinking that things will be tight, I'd like to interject a quick story.

When I was in high school, I was actively involved in Amnesty International through our church. One evening, during my sophomore year, a woman from our church called my mother and told her that through Amnesty International, there was a young woman who lived in China that was coming to the United States as a refugee. This was a few years before the massacre at Tienanmen Square, but tensions were on the rise and both of her parents had recently been assassinated.

When my mother hesitated that she didn't know whether or not we would have room for another person in our small home, the woman from the church kindly said, "Oh Mary, you have so much love in your heart. Surely you can find space for this young girl."

That is how Yen came to live with us. And how I came to sleep on the floor. Which I'll probably be doing tomorrow night. Just like old times.

In reality: I don't care where I'll be sleeping. It's been almost a year since we have seen Noni and Jimbo and I've never been so excited to get home. Only one noodle left to go!!

Posting may be light for a while, or completely absent. I'm really not quite sure what kind of computer access I will have while I'm away. So until we meet again, be good. Be safe. And as Jack says, hug your loved ones for no reason at all.

And maybe say a prayer that our trip going and coming will be perfectly safe and blissfully uneventful with children that sleep the whole way so I can take a nap after having only slept six four hours the night before we left.

I might have to start drinking coffee.

By the gallon.