One could say I’m a bit of a planner. Don’t worry; I’m not obsessive-compulsive. I just like to be prepared – especially when going on vacation. Scoff if you’d like, but I have THE most comprehensive packing checklist EVER. 

Heading to the beach? I won’t forget sunscreen. Staying in the mountains? I’ve got the bug spray. Taking a road trip? I have ideas and activities to entertain a family of five for hours. I know it sounds strange, but I think packing for the trip is half the fun of taking it.

I created my first pack list years ago. It was a one-page document in Microsoft Word with checkboxes for every item. As our family grew, so did my list. I added a page for each girl, including the essentials like diapers, wipes, bottles and strollers. 

But through all my attempts to be totally prepared, sometimes we still found ourselves utterly unprepared.  
    
I’ll never forget when we went to a family camp in Texas many years ago. We arrived on a Sunday night, excited for the week. On Monday morning I woke to the sound of Taylor, crying from across the cabin. 

“Mommy, my tummy hurts.” 

Before my feet hit the floor, Taylor threw up all over the bunk bed. But that was just the beginning. 

On Wednesday, Madison got sick. Now I was in the middle of nowhere with a sick baby who refused to nurse – and I had no breast pump. Madison was miserable. I was miserable. 

By Friday, Emily was sick. But just wait! It wasn’t over yet! About half-way through our 600-mile trek home, Curt got sick. It was literally the worst vacation ever. 

I’m sure, like every other trip, I had packed meticulously and checked my list to be totally prepared. But here’s the thing. I wasn’t expecting the stomach flu. I never saw that coming. 

I'd learned a tough lesson. No matter how much you plan, you simply can’t prepare yourself for everything.  
 
Now that my girls are older, they can pack for themselves. Baby items have long been replaced by deodorant, razors and retainers. 

But the lesson I learned from our “worst vacation ever” also applies to life today. You see, I’ve got a junior in high school. Next year she’ll be a senior. Before I know it, she’ll be heading off to college.
 
Sometimes I wonder if she’ll be ready. Will she be prepared for the challenges that come her way? Have I taught her things she can take with her? I only wish it were as simple as checking items off a list. 

Is she ready to face tough situations with confidence and courage?
Check.
Is she responsible?
Check. 
Is she able to trust God and defend her faith?
Check.
Is she self-disciplined?
Check. 

Over the next two years I can plan and prepare. I can pack every bit of wisdom I’ve got into my daughter. But there’s bound to be situations we won't see coming. Even so, I won’t stop packing. ​After all, I really think packing is half the fun of taking the trip. 

One word. That’s all it took to launch me into a week-long tizzy. It began one night during dinner. The girls and I were talking – I don’t remember the topic. But I do recall feeling a bit exasperated. And that’s when I blurted out just one little word.

“Well!”

The tone of my voice surprised me. Where did that raspy drawl come from?  Suddenly, the room became silent. I folded my arms.

“What?”

Emily burst out laughing. “That sounded just like Grandma!”

Me? Like Grandma? No way. My mom and I were very different. But I just couldn’t shake the idea. Could it be? Was it true? Maybe I was turning into my mom! 

The next day I watched for clues. And I discovered something mildly disturbing. Sometimes, without warning, Mom’s words came leaping out of my mouth.

“You might want to take a jacket. After all, better safe than sorry.”
“If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”
“The more you practice, the better you’ll get.” 

I tried not to panic. After all, lots of moms say that stuff. A few old clichés didn’t prove a thing. But a couple of days later, I found some undeniable evidence.

Don't tell anyone, but I keep all my grocery bags - just like Mom used to do. Hey, they come in handy. You never know when you'll need a plastic bag. Besides, why spend money on trash bags when you don't have to?

Yep. I save those too. 

But one thing about Mom, she's always been a good one. Even through my teen years, I could tell her anything. And no matter what I attempted - from singing solos to writing stories - she always encouraged me. She's my best friend (after Curt, of course) and I truly hope to have the same kind of relationship with my grown daughters someday. 

So now that I think about it, becoming like Mom ...  

“Well!” 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all.  

“I don’t know, Maddie. This could backfire on us.”

Madison fidgeted in her chair. She didn’t want to consider the possibility.

Just the day before, Emily’s friend had asked if we’d be interested in dog-sitting while her family went on vacation. Of course we were interested! We just had one problem … convincing Curt. 

Curt has many wonderful qualities, but he is not an animal lover. He has never owned a dog. He’s allergic to cats. It’s actually amusing that he married me, a farmer’s daughter, who grew up surrounded by cats, dogs,horses, rabbits and a whole assortment of other animals. 

Through the years my girls and I have tried to change him. We’d insist he go with us to visit the pet store and see all the adorable puppy-dog faces. That didn’t work. Sometimes I’d attempt to sweet-talk him into it. That didn’t work. Every year the girls would write “a puppy” at the top of their birthday and Christmas lists. And that didn’t work. We tried it all, but Curt never budged.

So when he agreed to let us dog-sit over Labor Day weekend, no one was more surprised than me. But I did need to bring Madison back to reality.

“What happens if one of the dogs has an accident on the carpet? Or chews on Dad’s shoes? Or barks all night? Dad will say, ‘I told you so,’ and we’ll never get a puppy.”

Madison sighed. She knew we were taking a risk. But if it meant spending a long weekend with a couple of cute puppies, it was a risk she was willing to take.

Now, in the interest of time (and word count), I thought I’d show you (rather than tell you) all about it. Meet Mindy and Ruby ...

Let’s just say … These. Dogs. Were. Adorable. And very well-behaved.

Each morning Madison eagerly ran downstairs and was greeted by two playful (and extremely pleased!) puppies. She giggled as Ruby snuck a quick “kiss.” “It’s like having a pet store in your own house!” Madison beamed.

We were having so much fun. Meanwhile, Curt basically ignored them.

Before we knew it, the weekend had flown by. The puppies went home, and our house seemed empty.

“Now what am I going to do?” Madison slumped into a chair. “I played with the puppies whenever I was bored.”

I held out my hand. “How about we go for a walk?”

As we headed on our way, I thought about the weekend. It was nice to hang out with the puppies, but it really didn’t end as I’d hoped. Curt didn’t instantly fall in love with them. He really didn’t have much to do with them at all. I felt a twinge of disappointment.

Suddenly, Madison looked up at me with a wide smile. “You said it might backfire, but I don’t think it did.”

Gotta love her positive attitude. 

That's when I realized something. Just like taking a walk requires one step at a time, there are other things in life that also must happen – one step at a time. I grabbed Maddie’s hand and squeezed.

“You’re right sweetie,” I said. “I don't believe it did.” 

This year my youngest started junior high. Yep. Junior High. So here I go again. I've been through junior high three times already! (And it's not getting any easier.) 

Do you remember elementary school? You know, back when everyone was friends with everyone. Well something happens around sixth grade ...

Friends suddenly stop talking to each other for no apparent reason. Cliques start to form. Feelings get hurt when girls “accidentally” hear about the sleepover they weren’t invited to. Decisions (like where to sit in the lunchroom) become a major issue.

Today I'm sharing a blog post I wrote for the Quad City Moms Blog. I invite you to click on over and read, I Could Do Without the Drama. 

Have a great week!