Kids...gotta love em...

I have finally managed to get the five of us and a puppy packed for our next adventure, but not without blood, sweat, and tears. All from me at one point, kids...gotta love 'em!

Why the blood, sweat, and tears? It all began Monday when I made an all call for laundry. Laundry which would be packed for our 8 day adventure. Laundry, which I would later find, had pulled a Houdini and "disappeared"! My 14 year old tells me she's packed and ready to go. OK, let me see what you have packed. She brings me the smallest bag she owns and inside she has packed ONE pair of panties, 10 tops, a pair of socks that don't match, no bras, no bottoms, no swim attire, no pajamas, and no shoes. But by golly she is packed and ready to go!...NOT!! So, I go to her top drawer which is designated socks and undergarments to find it full of JUNK! Where are all of your panties? I don't know? I tore those drawers apart, hence the blood and sweat, and found a total of FIVE pairs of panties, one of which looked like swiss cheese and the other well I won't go there. Where are all your panties? I don't know, I think the dog ate them? And why did the dog eat them? I don't know, cuz I left them on the floor? ~blood boiling~ OK, fine...where are all the shorts and pants I just washed? I don't know? Well, you had better find them NOW! She dilly dallies, my blood boils some more, I open the closet door to find nothing other than dirty laundry shoved here and there that didn't make it to the wash pile the day before. A few choice words...a lot of choice words...guess who had to do laundry? Not me! 10:30 last night I finished packing her stuff! No tears from this one though, she's a tough nut to crack!

While waiting on the 14yo to wash and dry her laundry, I packed up Mr. Wonderful and myself. Little Man was easy, out of the three of them he's the tidiest. No blood, sweat, or tears from him.

This morning, off to pack up Middle Child. This morning because I walked in her room last night and walked right back out, it was a DISASTER! Oh, and she had all her stuff laid out and ready to be packed. Let's just say she had everything, well most everything, she needed. I've gotta give her credit there, but I couldn't make heads or tails out of it. So I moved it to the top of the pile of CRAPOLA on top of her dresser. After a full nights sleep and a pot of coffee, I was ready to tackle getting her stuff packed. Until I reassessed what she had laid out, not quite enough to get by for 8 days. Open the closet to grab the clothes needed to finish packing. Clothes are MIA, found out she snuck them in the donation bag a couple months ago! A few choice words...A LOT of choice words! In my rant, I tripped over stuff hanging out from under her bed. Took a closer look to find all the laundry I had just done two days ago shoved under there, along with an empty Cheetos bag, 14 half-drank water bottles, numerous candy wrappers, and a whole bunch of SHIT! ~blood boiling~ I ripped everything out from under there, along with about 10 bags shoved here and there with misc. SHIT shoved in them and literally dumped them in a pile on the floor. Mr. Wonderful, upon hearing my rant, stepped in and chewed a little too...well a lot, hence the tears. Told me to finish packing and get out of there! She had to clean it all! I gave her an hour to get it all in order, with very clear consequences of if it's on the floor in an hour it is garbage and if it's not put in the right spot, it's garbage. An hour later, a clean room emerges! Go figure...

Watch out Texas, here we come!