A-camping we will go

At this time tomorrow night, I will be lying in a tent in a nearby Texas state park with my husband and 2 wiggling children, bellies full of s'mores, perusing and chortling over our newly purchased Far Side Gallery.

Sound fun?

The kids are brimming with excitement. This will be our first family camping trip. My husband took my son on a guys-only trip a few years ago. Oh, the tales they tell!

My son is so keyed up - all afternoon he just got bouncier and bouncier and louder and louder. You know that phenomenon where the more excited a child gets, the less he is able to control the volume of his own voice? He was, as they say, 'giddy as a schoolgirl.'

I cannot wait to get out of town, but am absolutely dreading the monumental task which faces this family tomorrow morning - getting out of town. This is a massive undertaking, an undertaking that we are woefully inadequately prepared to undertake in a timely, efficient, or stress-free manner. Just ask my parents (who are a fun 12-hour trip down the road) who are used to the following scenario:

Parents: So, when are you planning on getting on the road tomorrow?
Us: (with confidence) We're shooting for 8:00am.
--Fast forward to 12:00 noon--
Us: Hi Mom & Dad. Yeah, we just pulled out of the cul-de-sac. Oh, wait ... I think I forgot my [fill in the blank].

That's us. Hapless victims of inertia if ever they existed. It's hard to get this ball rolling.

To make it through this gauntlet, I intend to focus on the goal.

My family. Flowing water. Balmy mid-March central Texas weather. S'mores. My kids' happy faces. Rocks to climb. An actual book to read. S'mores. No e-mail. A starry sky. Fresh air. S'mores.