Making Memories

Which will be worthless, because I cannot remember a damn thing.

Mistakes I’ve made in recent days:
Agreeing to let people stay in my house while we’re away. Thus feeling the need to have the home front be somewhat presentable upon our departure. Which required multiple hours of attention to the level of the house inhabited by the 18 and under demographic population of my family unit.  It is possible I hadn’t been paying attention to exactly how disgusting it was up there.  Which is saying a lot, because I thought it was pretty damn disgusting.  It’s also possible I should have tackled this before departure day, because then the kitchen (a.k.a. the first thing guests will see) wouldn’t have been left in complete disarray.  Sorry Kathi and Marge.  For what it’s worth, I always say the kitchen is cleanest when people I don’t really like are coming over. 

Thinking getting from the end of season soccer team gathering to the airport in time for our 10pm flight would be nema problema.  It’s Croatian.  Google it.  We did make the flight and ultimately had plenty of time, but it’s possible I forgot one or two (or 20) items due to our harried departure from the house.

Forgetting my book(s). I’ve been trying to wean myself off the Kindle, because folks I love and respect claim they’re not to good to authors. And they’re certainly not good for mom and pop bookshops. So, I recently visited a most splendid locally owned bookstore and had a fabulous stack of lit to bring along. Perhaps some of my houseguests will enjoy them. Because I, sadly, will not. Thankfully, airport shops sell books, and I got my hands on one before leaving the good ol’ USA. I also forgot my cheaters. Which, if you are unaware, are reading glasses that you buy at the drug store. Or Target (three pairs for $15- and yes, I managed to forget ALL THREE PAIRS), or the corner pharmacy in Amsterdam.  

‘Twas a beautiful stack.
Cheaters from Amsterdam. Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.

Forgetting my laptop. Seriously. Who fucking does that? I’m typing this on my phone, I kid you not. And yeah, I get all the good reasons for not bringing a laptop on vacation, but I don’t really have a job, and I said I was gonna write one blog post a week, and I’m trying to do SOMETHING beyond being a huge suck of resources to my family and planet, so I did plan on posting while away.

Forgetting to lose the extra 20 pounds I’ve been carrying (yes, I know, but let’s just go with 20, mmmmmKay??) before traveling to a land that’s warm and steamy and requires 300 steps down a mountain to get to the beach. And, I’ve never been a math or physics whiz, but I’m pretty sure that means getting home requires 300 steps up a mountain. My children have been all too happy to point out my above average sweating skills, which tends to have the effect of me wanting to punch them in the throat.

Forgetting beach towels.

Forgetting water shoes.

Forgetting snorkles and goggles.  

I could live with the three above mentioned errors if this were my first time making this journey. But, depending on how you look at it, this is my third to fourth time making it. So I should totally have this packing nonsense down to science by now.  

Forgetting my kid’s zyrtec and inhaler. Which probably gives you plenty good reason to call child protective services. I hate me. If for no other reason than not having taught her how to pack this stuff for herself.  She requires her inhaler about three times a year, and I was able to buy some sort of European equivalent to zyrtec at the cheater store, so she will likely survive.  I do have benadryl and multiple epipens, though I’m happy to report we have not yet experienced a food related allergic reaction.  This would be a Holt family record.

Forgetting my swimsuit. I seriously cannot make this shit up. I had breakfast with a friend before leaving and he asked if I was ready. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “meh, not really, but all I REALLY need is my swimsuit.” Yeah. Don’t have it.  

Setting my alarm for 8pm instead of 8am for our scheduled excursion to the Elafiti Islands. Which one might think would be workable, because who doesn’t wake up by 8 am anyway, right? Wrong. Thanks, jet lag. And screw you. Thankfully these are the friendliest folks on earth, and they came back to get us. Headed to the islands as I type.  

Forgetting to block the soccer club on my 12 year old’s web browser. Because tryouts were right before we left, and of course teams were posted on day three of vacation, and of course my kid didn’t land on the team she wanted. And, while it doesn’t really matter, it seems like a BFD when you’re 12 years old. Ocean air and unlimited supply of Schweppes Tangerine soda blessedly work miracles when it comes to curing a despondent 12 year old soul, but we still have some weepy moments.  

Sweet, but not too sweet, and awfully damn delicious.

Entering the lottery for a very popular local 10 mile race.  And “winning.” Is it really winning if you have to train on vacation, when vacation is in a land where temps are typically in the upper 80s/low 90s and it’s really damn humid and you’re ~20~ pounds overweight?

Forgetting that running with my beloved, who is a mother trucking morning person, early in the morning inevitably leads to dissent.  And the two of us having to separate ourselves from one another, and me having to go my own way, thus adding 20 minutes to my workout.  BTW, I was thirsty within five minutes of setting foot out the door.

There’s more, but I think I’m good on self-deprecation for a bit.  And this post is way too long.

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