Christina M. Currie
Christina M. Currie's Touch of Spice column appears Fridays in the Craig Daily Press. E-mail her at email@example.com
Craig As I rush to close off as many loose ends as possible before my two girls and I leave for a week-long vacation, people keep asking "are you excited?"
I don't have time to be excited.
Seriously, there's laundry to do, a house to clean, work to catch up on and work to finish in advance. There are meetings, social events, sports, school days and shopping for those items you just can't vacation without.
This vacation thing is really stressing me out.
At the beginning of this week, I was glowing with the knowledge that I had seven full kid-free days in which to prepare.
I mean, who could ask for more?
Just one more day. Really. That's all I need, and I swear I'll use it wisely.
Right now, my answer is, I'll be excited when - and if - we board the plane.
That is the point when it becomes real. Until then, I'm running on pure, stress-induced adrenalin.
My children know nothing of this frenzy. In their world, the Magic Kingdom will just appear as if by, well, magic.
They know we've been saving for this trip, but they're not exactly sure why. The girls know there are others going with us, and in that, they believe lays the solution.
"We could just put your money and their money together in a basket and then we'll have TONS of money," 7-year-old Katie suggested.
I told her that there were going to be several expenses we planned to share, but that didn't fit in her mind nearly as well. She kept pushing for the basket.
Is there some cultural significance here that I'm missing? I mean, Katie's not really a share and share alike kind of girl.
It occurred to me that I may have gone a little overboard on the guilt trip. In my defense, this "I want" phase (please tell me it's a phase) is just wearing me out. When she was begging me for a QuinceaÃ±era dress (don't ask) I told her that her choices were Disney World or the dress. There was a second there when I though she was going to call my bluff and my shrewdness would be reduced to a simple "no."
Which is probably where I should have started to begin with. Of that, I am aware.
Then again, she might have just learned a lesson about the value of saving money and prioritizing your wish list.
But, after deciding that we needed an entire new vacation wardrobe, it's not like I am in any position to teach that lesson.
At the end of the day, I'll have us packed and there, on a trip that's paid for, taking a much-needed vacation, from which I'll have to take several extra days to recover. The girls, on the other hand, will have a week's worth of seemingly effortless fun, during which the question of the week will be "can I have (fill in the blank, the options are immense)."
OK, maybe I am a little excited.