I am racing. Racing to get us packed for a little excursion northward for a family wedding.
This is proving to be difficult.
It is the first time all 6 of us are going to fly. 6. That's the snack Nazi Dad, 2 bored boys, Amy, a teething baby and the biggest basket case of all--me. I HATE TO FLY. I HATE TO FLY WITH KIDS EVEN MORE. The thought of collapsing the double satroller through security absolutely exhausts me even right now. I know I'm going to burst into tears when they tell me I can't have diaper rash cream and Similac on the plane. Seriously. If I had time, I would drive 24 hours rather than go to an airport.
So I am trying to pack for 6 with coats, wedding clothes and baby gear. I think I've narrowed it down to 23 bags for 4 days.
We'll wear our underwear inside out.