Cindersoni, Cindersoni...

Today I feel like Cindersoni (ya know, Cinderella's lesser known cousin.  My mom used to sing the little song the mice sing to Cinderella when I was younger and I would complain about doing chores- except instead of singing Cinderell-y, Cinderell-y, it was Cindersoni, Cindersoni).  Like everyone else I've been frantically trying to get ready for the Holidays.  Wrapping presents, finishing homemade gifts, baking, shopping, cleaning, blah, blah, blah.  In addition to all this, I'm trying to get ready for two trips.  Brandon and I are going to a cute little bed and breakfast at the beach, then the day after Christmas the kids and I are driving down to see my family in Utah for a week. 

I'm not sure why these family trips bring out the worst of my slight OCD tendencies.  On three separate occasions in the past 14 months I've proven that I can be out the door and on the road within an hour in an emergency.  But if I'm planning on going, it takes me DAYS to get ready.  Planned visits bring on strange compulsions.   I feel compelled to do things like bleach my children's suddenly unseemly socks, get my brows waxed, detail my car, vacuum all the nooks and crannies of my house, clean out the window tracks,organize the Tupperware, alphabetize the bookshelf, and scrub out the fridge.

I suppose secretly I'm afraid I'll die while away, and you'll all come to my house and judge me.  (I come by this fear naturally- you should see the elaborate plans my grandma makes when going on vacation!)  Anyway, I gotta go change the sheets and pack the suitcases!  Good luck to each of you getting your holiday To-Do list done!