One Bag

I'm two days in to the packing process for a ten day trip with my boys and my dad. We leave tomorrow morning bright and early.  I'm excited, to be certain.  We are going to see my dad's side of the family, who I haven't seen in, oh...about a decade, and to go see them with my boys and my dad is going to be priceless.  Memory making good times that I will surely never forget are just one day away.

But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the teeniest bit nervous.  This is my first flight with both boys and in fact, the first time Smilus will fly period and I won't have The Man there to do what The Man does a sistuh out.

I've got Dad and despite the fact that he is a born leader, he takes direction surprisingly well, especially when it comes to helping me with his grandsons. So we are good and it's gonna be great.

I got it in my head that I could fit us into one suitcase.  The three of us.  In one normal sized suitcase.


I started strong.  Limited clothing.  We are staying with family and we can wash clothes.  No diapers.  I planned ahead and shipped them from  Just a couple toys.  They won't play with them anyway.

I folded items with space efficiency perfection.  I layered and tucked with the expert hand of a frequent flyer.  I had so much space left I balked at my previous doubts that led to dragging both suitcases out of the closet.  I even bragged to my husband.  I'm feeling really good about this, babe!  It's going to fit in one bag!

Then I checked my list.

Oh crap.  White noise machine.  Dammit.  I still have to fit the pull ups.  Shit.  There's also the hostess gift.  Fuck.  I forgot about the potty seat!

My dreams of stuffing all the possessions we would require for ten days into one compact wheeled suitcase were crumbling around me.

With an exaggerated sigh and a heavy heart my eyes dropped down to the second suitcase.  Looks like I need you after all.

Then no.  No, no no.  I resolved to conquer what may have never been done before in the history of flying with littles.  I can do this.

This isn't some pipe dream about reasonable luggage limitations while traveling as a family.

This is war.

And I'm gonna win.

Now, where's that bungee cord?

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