You know that stage of…

You know that stage of packing for a trip, when you're mentally running over the checklist, trying to figure out what you forgot? Well, that effect is tripled when you have a kid that you have to remember stuff for, and then quintupled all over again when you and said kid are travelling to a family wedding that you are both in.

In addition to all the regular clothes (and does she have enough sweaters, and does she need a jacket and what was the forecast again) and baby stuff (do I pack kazillion diapers or plan to find time to stop at a Walgreens and buy some there and dammit, how did we run out of Pirate Booty just before the trip -- that's bad planning on someone's part...), and the stuff to entertain her on the trip (can I fit both the stuffed bear 'ba-ba' and the dolly in the bag, and we still haven't washed the vomit off the primary dolly from the other day's carsick adventure, so it'd have to be secondary dolly, who is not quite as beloved), there's all the wedding stuff -- her rehearsal dinner dress and shoes, her flower girl outfit and shoes, hair clips, tights -- plus the same for me, along with bras and undies and -- ahem -- shapewear, I think they call it these days, and what if the hotel is over air-conditioned, do we need a shrug or a shawl or something, and okay, I think we're done, zipping up the wait, what about toiletries, and power cords, we forgot those completely...

It's insane. I actually kept waking up last night with packing items in my head.

Not to mention our general stress levels are higher anyway given the economy madness -- in these dark times, Kevin and I stay up late trying to figure out what we would do if we lost our house in a total economic catastrophe. A decade ago, I could have sold my body on the street to feed my child if necessary, but I suspect there'll be a glut of hot 20-something bodies available if it comes to utter meltdown, so I don't think we should rely on mine for Kavi's milk supply. Essentially, I think we would throw in with my siblings and his to try to get at least one of our parents' houses entirely paid off, and then all huddle there in the dark, waiting for civilization to return. At least in California you can grow vegetables most of the year. Squash, anyone?

Fun is still being had, though, because I'm pretty good at sticking my fingers in my ears and going nah-nah-nah-I-can't-hear-you-collapse-of-the-markets! Monday Simone and Jason and Sendhil came over and we played Settlers of Cataan, and it was both great fun and oddly soothing, quietly growing our stable little island economy. If the world falls down, maybe I'll go and grow some wheat. Because boy, I love bread. Bread, onions, and chilies, and I think we could survive for a decent time. Although I'm pretty sure we're supposed to have protein in there, and I have no idea how one grows lentils...

5 thoughts on “You know that stage of…”

  1. I am decades closer to retirement than you are. I refuse to worry about short term fluctuations in the stock market and neither should you. To be fair, I have been invested in the market since before the Dow passed 300 and it would take a lot to wipe out my gains.

    On principle, I don’t pay for the use of other peoples bodies, but if I did, yours would be just fine.

    On yesterday’s topic, I prefer the purple dress.

    With all of love,

    C. J. Czelling

  2. Mary Anne Mohanraj

    Oh, I’m fretting about more catastrophic issues — i.e., what if the city starts failing and hikes up our property taxes to double, triple, ten times what they are now — we can’t do that and make mortgage payments, so we try to sell the house, but this is happening to everyone, so no one is buying, so we lose the house, and the state university we both work for decides to cut our salaries in half and inflation is meanwhile going through the roof so that a loaf of bread costs ten dollars and a jug of milk costs twenty.

    It doesn’t take very long in that Depression-era scenario before Kevin and I can’t feed and house our family anymore. Hopefully it won’t come to that.

  3. Dont mistake this for Zimbabwe. Other than oil prices, I wouldnt expect any massive inflation, and you are better off on that than I am. You live in Chicago where they actually have public transportation. I live in Detroit where the auto companies disassembled our public transportation shortly after World War II. Also, you are close enough to work to ride your bicycle. One good thing is that Michigan has a constitutional clause that holds property tax increments to the lesser of inflation and 10%.

    I believe that you are a pacifist, but a lot of us are not and if all else fails we can stage the second American Revolution.

    With all of love,

    C. J. Czelling

  4. Well, I disagree with CJ, I think there’s real financial turmoil going on. That said, if you and Kev don’t have some kind of crazy adjustable-rate-mortgage, you’re probably one of the more stable families around. Point being – the city can’t raise tax income by taxing people who can’t afford it. I don’t think losing your home is up there in the line of worries.

    Really worried? Be like the LDS, and store a year’s worth of food, not necessarily the most healthy stuff but oil, rice, lentils, maybe some dried fruits/vegetables. Dehydrated milk, tea, sugar, peanut butter. Not sure, but I would wager this would cost less than $1/person/day, i.e $1000 for the 3 of you.

  5. Thanks for the shout out, Mary Anne. We had a great time on Monday. I think Jason really wants to buy the game!

    I have heard of others talking about storing food. To be honest, I thought it was a bit extreme. Personally, we live in the city so our home is smaller and therefore I don’t have room to store food. No extra fridge or freezer, either.

    If things got real bad, I think we would pack up and move to my in-laws in Oklahoma where my father-in-law is in the petroleum business and, therefore, almost guaranteed income in a crisis. It’s not as cold down there, so we could huddle around the fireplace in the winter.

    And, if push came to shove, I am sure there is somewhere I can sell photos of my body on the internet. Aren’t there a bunch of ‘I love big girls’ and ‘I love brown girls’ websites?

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