It's all about the numbers

Today we leave for San Antonio for 4 days. In that time span we will meet and greet with Hud (a friend whom the boys have not met but although he's 2 years younger than Tucker is about the same size, this should be fun to watch), eat at Chick-fil-A (can I just say how incredibly beside myself I am at the thought of Chick-fil-A? You have no idea how rotten it is that WF does not have this fine-dining experience), hunt some eggs at Aunt Sarah's house, see all the Doss family cousins, see Aunt George, gets a ridiculous amount of spoiling from Mimi and Peepaw, go to Jessica's wedding (yahoo!), see some animals at kids at the wedding, make all the kids at church feel inferior to my children's adorable, yet grown-up and daddy like Easter outfits and eat way too much food. {smirk}
It all makes for cocktail of chaos and I know it will take a week for the boys to come down from their SA high and drop back down to earth only to be smacked in the head with naps, and non-sugar foods and gasp, a bed time (oh my I am a mean mommy).
So while I should be packing and cleaning and getting ready to leave my house for 4 days, I am instead writing about it. I really like to sabotage myself. But seriously who wants to pack? Not only do I have to over pack for myself (which is quite comical since half the time while in SA I wear my mother's clothes. While we are on the subject, how messed up is it that I am wearing my mother's clothes? Hmm.) but I also have to pack the boys AND the two dogs AND start packing Stuart's stuff; only to have him come home, empty out his bag, riffle thru all the neatly folded items that I have packed away, and toss (literally) things from his closet and drawers into an already over-stuffed bag, later to proclaim, "Where do I put my laptop?," and "Did you get my deodorant?," or "Did you pack my underwear?," and always "We have too much stuff."
It's an obnoxious balancing act and quite frankly I still want to invent "the house shrinker" so that when I need to go out-of-town, I can merely shrink my house and it's contents, put them in my purse and have everything at my fingertips at my beck-and-call (much like my phone...ahh...waiting in line at Wal-Mart has a whole new meaning).

Shout outs:
The brain (more importantly the part that controls the urge to pee and poo)-peeing in the potty is beyond words.
My phone-the touch screen, access to everything including but not limited to my virtual world, the QWERTY board, you amaze me really.
Watermelon-seedless, red, juicy, fantastic.
Portable DVD Player-trips would be forever impossible. Thank you for your service.