I've done it again. As much as I hate to admit it, I tried to be the perfect mom that packs the perfect bag so their kid can have the perfect "going away" experience.
Seems I went a little overboard.
So my daughter, we'll call her Lil' K (really, I just don't feel like typing daughter over and over again.) Anyway, Lil' K was picked to go away on a youth leadership weekend with the school, along with a handful of other kids. This little weekend is happening at an Appalachian Mountain Club lodge along the Appalachian Mountain Trail. Like the good mother I thought I was, I scoured the itinerary to figure out just what she'd be doing on this retreat of hers. Being that it's at a hikers lodge there are, of course, a lot of outdoorsy sounding things for the kids to choose from. Hiking, mountain survival scenarios, map reading with a scavenger hunt through the forest... you get the picture.
Anti-Granola-Supermom-Wannabe to the rescue.
They were kind enough to send along a list of suggested items for the trip- things that one would need when attending AMC's Mountain Classroom. I attacked the list with gusto.
First, what to pack everything in? Mr. Perfect (my husband) has a huge duffel bag- awesome, everything will fit in one bag. Problem is, it's been in our dusty, musty cellar for the past year, sitting right next to his hockey bag. Any of you hockey moms out there know that funk just spreads like a toxic green gas into anything in the remote vicinity. Not a problem, bag goes into the washing machine along with every odor fighting concoction I can think of. Once I take it out of the dryer I manage to convince myself that the smell is just "stuck in my nose" and the bag is fine. Well, won't hurt to drown it in Febreeze, just in case. I really hope the smell doesn't permeate her clothes.
Side pockets-one side has the hiking boots that we just had to get her (they'll come in handy for hunting season-really, they will.) Other side pocket is stuffed with rolled up ski pants and her winter jacket (after all, she's going to be at the base of Mt. Washington-home of the worst weather in the world!)
Into the main compartment go the jeans, running pants, yoga pants, a variety of shirts, long johns, pajamas, more extra socks than she could wear in a week, underwear (Mom!), sleeping bag, warm cozy fleece shirt (the info sheet said NO cotton!), sweatshirt, AND a backpack filled with everything she will need for a hike in sub-arctic temperatures. And don't forget the toiletries. Lil' K loves the outdoors, but can also be a girly-girl when she wants to be so there had to be the right brush, shampoo, conditioner, body wash (not soap) and one of those bath puffy things. They provide sheets but she just had to bring her own sleeping bag. (Mom, you never know who slept in those beds last!)
I semi-expertly folded, rolled and stuffed every last bit of this crap into the duffel bag. I mean, the zipper wasn't even straining I was that good. Lil' K goes to take it off the table- and it slams down on the floor. Several minutes of grunting and groaning later and she finally has it up onto her shoulder. She's ready to go.
We get to the school to meet the bus that's taking them there. We see the other kids getting out of cars and going to wait. All of them are carrying very small back-packs and overnight bags. MOM! I over-packed!
Sweetie, there is no such thing as over-packing. But of course, she's at an age where it's all about fitting in and she's mortified that she's the only one with such a huge bag. I tell her that she told me she was going to sign up for the outdoor stuff and that it was better to be prepared. She'll thank me when her friends are complaining of the cold and she's nice and toasty in her long johns and fleece. It's at this point that one of the other moms says to me, "Well, I think most of the stuff is going to be indoors." Did we read the same itinerary?
I come home to a quiet house. Her little brother (we'll call him Mr. T) is playing outside and I'm staring down a pile of laundry that needs to be folded. On top of that pile is the load of towels that I washed this morning so I could pack one in with the rest of her stuff.
I forgot to pack the damn towel. Hope they give her time to drip dry.
This is the first time she's gone away from home for something like this. It'll be nice to have some quality time with me and Mr. T and all that, but I can't wait for my wet, musty smelling little girl to come home and tell me all about it. In spite of my short-comings as a super-packer, I'm sure she'll have a blast!
