Ikea Instructions: Step 5

I have a lot of keys on my key ring. The sheer amount could be mistaken as a sign of status or importance, and that assumption would, in fact, be a mistake. My many keys could also be misconstrued as metaphoric; you know--there are many doors available, many options from which to choose, endless possibilities--a Robert Frost rip-off waiting to be exploited and put on a poster. That's not it either. I have many keys because life is complicated.

That's an interesting word that gets a bad rap--complicated. I don't see it as a negative, I see it as a synonym for intricate. Merriam Webster defines it as "having many parts or steps." They also define it as "hard to explain or define." That's all. But when we hear something is complicated, we instantly share a reactive look of concern mixed with wincing. We fear complicated because we crave easy. We want things that are easy to understand, we want the world to go easy on our kids, we just want everything to go smoothly. That's why we both love and loathe Ikea instructions; they seem easy until about Step 5 when the diagram doesn't quite make sense-it's just a little too Scandinavian.

Well, this year I acquired two new keys which brought me to Step 5 of my life's Ikean schematic. And you want to know the ironic thing, it all honestly felt like the simplest thing to do.

The nuts and bolts of it are: Teenager #1 wanted to go to a different High School. He came to us and said he was miserable and we remembered that quote about the definition of crazy. So instead of making him repeat the same thing over and over, we let him search for a new school. One thing led to another, we needed to establish residency, we needed to notarize papers about custody and now I have two more keys on my key ring. It's far less August Osage than it reads. It's just a different solution to a problem with many parts and steps. We're still one big happy weird family, we just live in two different places, go to two different schools and are all together only on the weekends.

Complicated. Some might even say crazy or irrational; yet it is surprisingly freeing. The world has opened up. There is no longer just one right school or one right path, or one right way to be a family. In the first week alone Teenager # 2 successfully negotiated public transportation home on his own. Teenager #1 has done more homework in the past week than I saw him do all last year. Husband and I have gone out twice, one more outing and we'll break last year's record. It's possible we're all growing up.

When our kids are babies, and even before, we see how clearly their lives will go. Even the most buddhist of us see clearly that our children will go to school, get their driver's license, go to college, get an apartment with friends, find a job, fall in love, visit on holidays, etc. We talk a good game of letting them become who they will be, but we still see the path lit before us like an airplane landing strip. That is why we panic when they want to land somewhere else. We cannot clearly see success and independence and happiness on that course, we must stick with the flight plan we logged.

Except that we don't. We can let the world be bigger than we imagined. We can entertain the ridiculous. We can revel in the complicated. We can put the wrong bolt in the base of the book case and the bookcase will still hold books. And that is why I have a lot of keys this year.

Some people have told us that we are good parents for doing this. Some people look at us with a mix of concern and wincing and simply say "Wow." I don't know if it's good, or bad, or strange or crazy; it's simply the next of many steps we continue to take as parents. Some of these many parts are bound to go horribly awry, this is an experiment not a cure. It is scary and exciting and wakes up the senses because it is uncharted. It is an adventure we're ready to suit up for.

It is complicated, and makes for a cumbersome key ring, but sometimes life asks us to go a little Scandinavian.

Another School Year: Once More Unto the Breach

The start of school is imminent and I am filled with dread and anxiety.  How will I parent my children through another year of High School? This time of year always used to be one of parental joy as I released my children joyfully to the care of their teachers for seven glorious hours a day. Now the first Wednesday after Labor Day marks the onset of an unpredictable campaign of seemingly overwhelming odds comprised of rocky social terrain, precipitous homework climbs, fractious wake up battles and extra-curricular pressures which seem to exist solely to beef up the mole hill's status. I'm sure there are parents among you who feel the same; who fear the future and the unknown perils that lie ahead. This year I truly feel I might not have the strength for this; I am a coward who's chief desire is a full on retreat into denial and familiarity.

I am a mother in need of a locker room speech. So I will seek strength and resolve in the original locker room speech, from Shakespeare's Henry V, St. Crispin's day.

Do not click away for fear of esoteric literary pontification. You must know me better than that.  No, I beseech you lie in wait as I lower the dignity and majesty of Shakespeare's verse to fit my puny insignificant anxiety.

This day is called the feast of Crispian:
(The first Wednesday past Labor Day will do, 
for this irreverent bastardizing
of the Bard of Avon's hallowed verse)
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
(When all are put to bed and wine is poured)
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
(Or shall I clarify, reach older age,
As each year brings more wrinkles
faster than Loreal can erase )
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
(Shouting "we did survive another year!)
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
(To psyche and self-confidence alike)
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
(And, frankly since the day that thou wast born)
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
(Unless thou art a teen who holds a grudge
for future guilt and bribery anon)
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day
(Like refraining from crushing the XBox): 
Then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
(Yes all those names will show up on the test)
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd
(Let's face it they will be forgotten e'er
Ink has dried on said wretched exam)
This story shall the good man teach his son:
(Unless his son tells him to fucketh off)
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
from this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
(Unless you have a name like Salisbury)
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
(Oh shit that's right he has to practice vi'olin)
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
(For the love of all that's holy take a sho'wer
E'en don some Axe body spray, I beg you please)
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
(Get up! Get up! the bus has come and gone!)
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
(I'll take being accursed if only it will mean
I can escape this den of teenage angst)
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
(Assuming thou and I art still speaking)
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
(June cannot cometh soon enough for me!)


My apologies Mr. Shakespeare.

Why I'm Listening to Skrillex

I've recently become obsessed with the song Level7 by Avicii, the Skrillex remix of course. Have you heard it? Genre of dubstep? Probably next to Love Me Do on your favorites? Anyway, it started simply, as all obsessions do. I was listening to music on my phone on shuffle and this song came up. Contrary to the hip vibe I naturally give off, this was not a song I downloaded, it came from teenager #2. Since I have ICloud and haven't filtered my songs, because I'd rather spend my free time knitting, drinking wine, watching the BBC's Musketeers or doing all three of these at once, Level7 came on in my shuffle as I was heading to work. And it touched on a memory, teenager # 2 dancing dubstep in 7th grade in the Middle School Talent Show.

What's dubstep? It's actually pretty amazing. It is commonly defined as "A form of dance music, typically instrumental, characterized by a sparse syncopated rhythm and strong bass line." Skrillex is a popular artist in the form. Dancing to this music is also syncopated, a little bit of pop and lock, a lot of syncopation and there's a fluidity to it that is beautiful and often mind-blowing. Here's an example.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4d1EuUqohOY

It's probably useful to note that teenager #2 looks like an overgrown leprechaun. Curly red hair, skin so fair it's almost see through, blue eyes, about as Irish as you can get. At first look, not your typical dubstepper. Rewind a year and a half ago, I'm out of town visiting a friend, I call home to say Hi and it is actually Teenager #1 who tells me that Teenager #2 apparently was great in the Middle School Talent Show. What? I didn't know he was in the talent show. What? He never told any of us. I email all my colleagues at the school and see if a video exists. It does. I watched it.

WOW! I'm not sharing that one, that's his call. But I'm just saying, WOW!

And I kept thinking, this is a thirteen year old boy who just got up in front of the entire Middle School and danced. The risk was huge. But all you saw on the stage was a thirteen year old boy having the time of his life. No fear, or if he had it he certainly did not show it, just joyfully, skillfully sharing something he was into. I was impressed by his skills, I was blown away by his guts.

So, fast forward to my current obsession of listening to Aviccii's Level7, Skrillex remix. This was the song Teenager #2 dubstepped to. I'm listening a lot. You see, I'm currently working on a project that is a great challenge and I'm honored and flattered to be a part of it and I am capable of the work ahead, but I am fighting my life-long nemesis Lord Self- Doubt. So I listen to Level7 and remember my boy's fearlessness. You get the picture.

There's a common question that is posed to us all at some point, sometimes several points in our lives. We usually get asked this question when we're kids and the answer is often Fireman, Wonder Woman, Optimus Prime. Then we get a little older and learn a thing or two and the answer sometimes changes to Lincoln, Martin Luther King, Mother Teresa, Optimus Prime. And then we get blown away by a video, or a hard-earned B+, or a beautifully written thank you note to a grandfather and the answer changes to my children.

It almost feels arrogant and self-serving to give that answer because that might insinuate that I made one or two okay moves while parenting. But these children of mine, they are becoming people I like. They are taking what they know, what they like, what they are curious about and what they fear and they are becoming their own quirky, funny, brave and smelly selves.

They are becoming my Heroes.

Well, them and Optimus Prime.

Do I Dare to Eat a Peach

It occurs to me that it is sometimes okay to talk about the things that are going well. Comedy does not always favor success. It's infinitely easier for a dame like me to comment, quip and banter my way out of recognizing that things are okay, sometimes better than okay. No doubt it is an effort to pre-jinx the universal jinx that is on its way, to drop the other shoe manually as opposed to waiting for fate, to anticipate Murphy's Law before it is enforced; because happiness is unsettling.

Happiness realized is the best feeling ever, it feels as if you've just learned to breathe all over again. Once realized, however, we begin to fear losing it. So in order to prepare ourselves for its inevitable departure, we lower its value by downplaying it, changing the subject and, in my case, sarcastically quipping it away. And once lowered, we do not fear its loss as deeply; and we also do not feel its resonance as fully.

So, with as little irony, sarcasm and adorable cleverness as I can muster I will take a moment to recognize what is going well.

I've lost five pounds.

I am employed in the field I've always wanted to work in, not in the job I originally envisioned, but lucky to not have to have something to fall back on.

Teenager #1 has expressed genuine appreciation for little and big things with more frequency.

I love my dog.

I have some kick-ass friends.

I enjoy writing.

(It's so hard not to make fun of myself right now)

Husband still makes me laugh after 19+ years.

Both cars are paid off.

I started running this summer, and I like it.

Teenager #2 did the dishes last week.

(Almost impossible not to comment on all of the other things he didn't do)

The weather's been really nice this summer.

My extended family, complex and, at times Shakespearean, are healthy and still talking to each other.

(Hello Fate, tempted yet)

I've had some really good peaches this summer.

There are more good things, I'm sure of it, but I am feeling far too extravagant now and the urge to mock myself knowingly in order to connect and ingratiate myself to you is overwhelmingly irresistible. Also, my fear of destroying all that is good by appreciating it is censoring me. And none of what I listed is earth-shattering or deserves to be on a poster superimposed over a sunset by the sea. All of them do, however, make me smile and breathe a little easier and center my world to allow me space for the perspective and point of view to tackle the complex, and at times Shakespearean, stuff; the stuff that we need to laugh at so we don't crumble.

Challenging bad shitty things are going to keep happening. So there is nothing wrong or selfish or arrogant in enjoying a good peach and existing in the pure joy of that moment. Enjoying the good stuff doesn't make the bad stuff happen, it makes the bad stuff endurable.

So, dare to eat a peach Alfred J. Prufrock, and don't just eat it, enjoy it.

(image courtesy of Mark Leopold)

Checks and Balances

Let's start with a disclaimer: I love my husband. As human beings go, he's tops. Decent, intelligent, kind, moral, funny, responsible, exemplary to a fault. I love him, I'm lucky to have him, he's a great guy.

That being said...

It is not easy being married. Period. And then, geniuses that we are, the majority of us married fools throw kids into the mix and they screw everything up.

Okay, another disclaimer. I love my kids. They are miracles and I can't imagine my life without them. I'm lucky to have them, I wouldn't trade them for anything, etc.

But they do screw up everything.

All of a sudden that dreamy soulmate whom you wanted to spend every minute with laughing and going out to dinner and taking weekend jaunts to Amish country to by jam and quilts, is an incompetent, insensitive a-hole who comes home late from work and passive aggressively passes judgement on the cleanliness of the house, the fact that the kids are watching TV and is that all we're having for dinner?  And now the already festering mess of toys, clothes, dirty dishes and snotty noses becomes a petrie dish for the growing virus of resentment, exhaustion, broken dreams and misunderstanding.

At the root of it all, we all want to be the most important person in our spouse's life and we all want to be appreciated and adored for our efforts and our potential. And, at the end of a long day, we want those things without asking for them. A little recognition that I kept the children alive for another day. A little appreciation that spouse negotiated tricky personnel problems successfully. The problem is, at the end of a long day, we want to receive it before we give it, because we deserve it because today was really hard damnit, and they should know that. Why don't they know that? They should know that just by looking at me. And since you both want it first, it's awfully hard to be the one to give it first in hopes of receiving it in kind.

And this is just scratching the surface. In addition to the end-of-the-day-appreciate-me-more game of chicken, there is a whole binder full of checks and balances and procedural tactics that can make or break a lasting marriage. Here is a sampling:

1. Getting up with the kids:

• Duties include: waking up before the laws of nature intended if your children are 8 and below, or   waking children up repeatedly if your kids are tweens or above; negotiating breakfast; clean laundry retrieval (or dirty laundry upcycling depending on success of #3); preparing lunches during school year, managing TV consumption all other times of year; crisis management for hair, incomplete sports apparel, toothbrush in the toilet, forgotten homework, only one shoe and lost phone which is either on vibrate or out of battery power. 
• Ideal Candidate: Parent who is less of a risk to society while experiencing sleep deprivation
• Duration of Duties: infancy-12th grade
• Risks: permanent alteration of sleep habits
• Rewards: Minimum of one weekend day to sleep in for good marriage, two for healthy marriage

2. Dishwashing

• Duties include: loading dishwasher for maximum fit and to specifications of Alpha Spouse; administering dishwasher detergent in correct compartments in correct amounts; turning on dishwasher when full in timely manner(not leaving it overnight so there are no bowls, spoons or cups available for breakfast!!!!!!); unloading dishwasher and replacing dishes in appropriate or approximate locations(that pan has never gone in that cupboard, ever, not once since we've been married); engaging garbage disposal, wiping down counters, stove and table with surface sponge not dishwashing sponge.
• Ideal Candidate: Both spouses sharing job equally. Dishwasher loading and general kitchen cleanliness maintenance should go to spouse with more control issues, unloading of dishwasher should fall on more clueless spouse.
• Risks: Molehill arguments snowballing into mountains based on incorrect loading and unloading, mounting resentment at clean dishes still loaded or neglected dirty dishes, increased chance of martyrdom when choosing the "I'll just do it myself" response.
• Rewards: Unsolicited appreciation for successful execution of any of the above duties, increase in general attractiveness to spouse as a result of completing any of above duties without being asked.

3. Laundry

• Duties include: collecting dirty laundry; transport to washer and dryer; selecting correct washer settings; emptying pockets of money, phones, change, vital tax receipts(though really this should be done before clothing hits the laundry basket or vicinity thereof); dispensing detergent in correct receptacle, transferring wet clothes to dryer and considerately pulling out items to be line-dried(if there is even an inkling of a doubt-line dry it gentlemen); transport of clean clothes to folding area; return of clean clothes to appropriate drawers and closets(please stop giving my socks to the boys).
• Ideal Candidate: Any member of the household who knows what's good for him or her.
• Risks: shrinking favorite Anthropologie shirt, forgetting to turn on dryer and work shirts not done in time, losing vital tax receipts.
• Rewards: See #2.

4. Dinner

• Duties include: making dinner for everyone in the house without asking what you should make because you've known everyone in the house as long as I have, and by the way, those things on the shelf over there are cookbooks with pretty detailed instructions.
• Ideal Candidate: Anyone in the house at dinner time who might be hungry
• Risks: "is this new?" "Oh...green peppers...great." "Is this all we're having?"
• Rewards: The occasional grunt of gratitude, or, if you're not the alpha cook, lavish praise from society for having broken the mold of convention to treat your family to dinner and give your spouse a "night off"
• Addendum: for a truly happy marriage the spouse who does not prepare dinner should leap with joy to complete Duty #2.

5. Going out with Friends

• Duties include: getting the hell out of the house to unwind with friends before you become an unpleasant headline in tomorrow's paper.
• Ideal Candidate: Whichever spouse has that look about them
• Risks: Overuse leads to other spouse developing that look about them on a permanent basis
• Rewards: You reboot and forget why your spouse and kids are so annoying
• Addendum: If you'd like to enjoy this outing guilt-free, execute steps 1-4 prior to said outing. And remember: of course we are evolved grown-ups and do not have to ask for permission from our spouses to go out with friends, so don't forget to always ask permission from your spouse to go out with friends or risk paying extra emotional rent. 

Other sections of the Marital Checks & Balances Binder include:

• Paying the bills: not always wise to give to the more controlling spouse.
• Getting children to bed-often includes bathing for younger children and bribing for older ones.
• Maintaining family calendar: if it ain't on the calendar it doesn't exist. Accidental-on-purpose absentmindedness goes in the marriage deficit column.
• Grocery shopping: if I forget your soup crackers, it doesn't mean I don't love you
• Vacation packing: Common sense is not always a given

Of course this binder does not exist in any corporeal manifestation, it is amassed day after day, year after year, failing after failing and each spouse's version is slightly different. At the back of said binder is a scorecard. Not surprisingly, you are always ahead on your scorecard, by a landslide. And then they do something good, like remember your anniversary, and you feel shame for having judged them so harshly, and you give them more points than they probably deserve and happily do all of the above for a whole day without leaving the room to mutter your carefully cultivated resentment as you let the dog out in the middle of the movie you let spouse pick out.

I know yours is a happy marriage with open and honest communication and that you do not need a mental binder of checks and balances like I do. I know Husband and I should talk about these things. And we have, and sometimes, air is cleared, mistakes are owned and we turn the corner onto a sunny street with well-tended flower boxes and birds singing our wedding song. Other times...assurances are made and followed through on until they are inconvenient, or I'm exhausted, or he had a crappy day and habit and expectation get blurred again until we both have that look about us for far too long. Because marriage is hard; marriage with kids is even harder.

It's a little easier though if you try to even out that scorecard a bit. My advice, try two things: ask for what you need, and do what your spouse needs without being asked. You know them well enough, don't play dumb because it's easier, or because being a martyr makes you feel superior. These simple actions will not miraculously cure all that ails, after all, we have the lives we create(consciously or unconsciously), and any behavioral modification takes time, patience and consistency. Don't forget though, this all started because you loved hanging out together and going to Amish country for jams and quilts. Reality and day-to-day drudgery exacts a toll on the way to Amish country that feels higher than it should be at times, but it's worth paying because those jams are just as good as you remembered.

Dear Supreme Court

Dear Supreme Court,

I know you are busy, I'm sorry to bother you, but I just have a quick parenting question. (Really this has nothing to do with recent events. Definitely not an oh so subtle attempt to voice my opinion) And since you mediate disputes...

You see, it's about my son, who, by the way, as a teenager, has the makings of a great lawyer since they are inexhaustible when fighting to get their own way. Anyway, my question is about my son and video games.

His argument is that he has the right to play as much as he wants and I should just trust that he'll take care of the other stuff he has to do.

My proposal is that he should have time limits on video games, and if he wants more time he can earn it by completing homework, doing extra chores, extra summer reading anything that contributes to the family and his future. The hope being that he sees the bigger picture of how he functions in the world both as an individual with specific beliefs and opinons and as part of a community that contributes to taking care of each other.

His counter argument is that he knows he needs to get his homework done and do his summer reading and that he'll do it when he wants to, and I should just leave him alone and trust his judgement. As to chores, they are not something that he believes he needs to do, but something that he believes I want him to do.

I know he has a good heart and knows basic right from wrong. I know he is passionate about what he believes is right and wrong, as most adolescents are. I also know that as an adolescent, he believes he knows everything, which may be the origin or result of this passion. I also know that as an adolescent he, ultimately, wants to get his way and will fight hard for that perceived right- to simply get what he wants.

I also know that he understands that there is pride in contributing to the family, that, in fact, contributing to take care of everyone ensures that he is also taking care of himself. That there is a victory in knowing that we as a whole are stronger because of his involvement in our comprehensive care. The victory may not be as instantly tangible as conquering the next round of Super Smash Brothers or League of Legends, it may require more work and compromising on points that are hard to concede. But I have seen him calmer, happier and prouder of himself when he discovers that he can do all of the stuff he has to do and still have plenty of freedom and time to do the things he wants to do.

So, here's my question: do I stick to what I know is ultimately best for him even though it is a rougher parenting road, or do I cave? I mean he's doing fine, and I guess as a mother, it historically is my job to put my needs secondary to his. And maybe if I cave on this, I will earn his favor. Maybe by letting him do whatever he wants, he will remember me fondly when I am old and need him to help take care of me. I scratch his back, he scratches mine. Right?

I mean, it's not like I'm opening the door for him to just demand whatever he wants whenever he wants it. It's not like he'll use this freedom to play as many video games as he wants to secure other privileges as well. People never do that. Right?

It's not like I'm telling him to just settle for what's good enough and that the potential for true humanity lies in the belief of every man for himself and that what he wants and believes is more important than finding a way to exist in his rights and beliefs while honoring the rights and beliefs of others. Right?

It's not like he's going to see this one decision as a validation to further his own agenda in the future or that it constitutes the right for him to make more self-serving demands as time goes by. Right?

Anyway, I know you've had to make a lot of decisions in your time. I know I've made far more missteps than you, some I'd certainly like to overturn. And I only have to negotiate with one other parent, there's nine of you who have to agree and agree to disagree time and again. And I know adolescent behavior is no comparison to the gravity of the cases and issues you arbitrate. But, I just thought if you had a moment to weigh in I'd love to hear what you think in the case of Carpenter v Carpenter: Can Freedom and Responsibility Co-habitate?

Thank you for your time.

How to Go on a Family Vacation

It's SUMMER!!!!!!!

Shit, it's time for a family vacation.

I say family vacation because this is quite different from an actual vacation.

An actual vacation is when you get to sleep in, eat whatever you want, relax, read, go to the beach and not have to build a sand castle, go to a museum for pleasure and not to enhance your child's chances of getting into an Ivy League college, etc.

A family vacation isn't a whole lot different from your day-to-day existence at home. You still have to provide meals, make sure everyone brushes their teeth, keep up with summer reading, do laundry and so on. What delineates it as a vacation is the increased pressure to have fun, create lasting memories and experience quality time together as a family. Whether it's Disney World, or the beach or some destination city, much work needs to be done to make sure every moment leaves a lasting and meaningful impression on your offspring.

So you research websites and download apps like Gogobot and NFT for so-and-so city, and you make daily itineraries, and you plan the best route through the Magic Kingdom to avoid lines and still see the Parade and fireworks, and you toss in a little educational trip to a nature preserve or science museum, and you stay up late and get up early so you can return home knowing that you did everything. And it's a lot of effort. Effort that is often met with exhaustion, and whiny declarations like "I'm hungry" or "I don't want to swim with Dolphin's" or "Who is Emily Dickinson and why do we have to go to her house?" And you get back home feeling like you need a vacation from your vacation despite all the posts on Facebook which give the impression that you're having the BEST time ever.

And, most likely, you spent a lot of money on this BEST time ever. So you convince yourself that it was. And there probably were amazing moments which most likely were happy accidents or surprises. Something you stumbled upon on your way to the next thing on the list; and even a few things that actually were on the list. On the whole, however the majority of the vacation was fast and stressful and exhausting. Not what you were looking forward to when you booked it in the middle of that snowstorm.

I'm a big believer in vacations. I think everyone needs one and everyone needs to learn what constitutes a vacation for them. For some, what I described above is, honestly, the best time ever. For others it may look different. For example, for my kids, vacations often include unencumbered video game time, because that is what they love to do. I still haven't cracked the vacation nut, but over the years I have learned one or two or seven things that have helped.

1. Do not overplan. When we go to Orlando we always do one day in the park and one day off. One experience a day is plenty; ten is a recipe for overstimulation and resentment.

2. Let the kids play too many video/computer games and watch too much TV. If that's what they like, let them do it once in awhile, even if it's a beautiful day out. They're happy, and they eventually turn it off and suggest a game of catch or a bike ride of their own volition.

3. Force the kids or your spouse to do one thing they don't want to do. You'll either get a delightful surprise, or they will gather material to tease you with which is something they will enjoy anyway.

4. Do something that you want to do on your own without anyone else there to spoil it for you.

5. Join in on one of the kids' activities even if you hate it. Play a video game or pitch to them or go shopping in that tourist trap and buy a hermit crab.

6. Do something frivolous and impractical, not because it's a teaching moment for your kids, but because it's your vacation dammnit.

7. Ignore all of the above and do what you want because you know what you and your family need better than anybody.

This year we're taking little vacations, Three to four day treks to see family, hang at the beach, go to an amusement park, and maybe take in New York City. We're doing this because of work schedules and because we're broke. Will Husband over plan? Sure. Will we get on each other's nerves? Yup. Will we only remember the good stuff when we talk about it at Thanksgiving? Oh yeah.

We all want the perfect vacation to ease the WTF of our everyday. What we get is never perfect, it's never enough, but it might slow us down some, remind us to breathe a little deeper and last just long enough for us to remember why we love each other before we're ready to kill each other again.