-Reverb Broads prompt for today, December 5th-

“What is the one thing you finally did this year that you always wanted or said you were going to do, but in your heart of hearts never thought you would actually do?”

I feel like I’ve summed this one up fairly recently- book draft written, check!- so I’m just going to go ahead and leap forward, to 2012, and tell you what I really can’t imagine pulling off next year. (Yes, I like to preemptively announce my screw ups. It saves us all so much time in the end.)

Next year, allegedly in August, Hubby and I will be traveling with all five of the kiddlets in tow, back to Ethiopia to tour our three youngest kids’ birthplace. And since our plane will be stopping in Rome on the way back to refuel, why not round the whole experience out with a week’s stay in Italy?



Could happen.

As far as Hubby is concerned, it will happen. We are committed. We have picked the dates and, as I’ve mentioned, he’s convinced that if we don’t leave now (!) all the oil is going to be gone and our only option will be, I don’t know, a raft made from the tires of our useless minivan. So, fine. 2012 it is.

Only the thing is, I’m not sure I can pull this off. Hubby works LONG days. He is inaccessible basically every minute that the passport office or Ethiopian Air or the travel clinic is open. (We need, as near as I can figure, approximately 800 shots between the seven of us.) Which means I will be responsible for planning this two week, three country adventure.

Oh, man. That is a high order for someone who hasn’t managed to muster the discipline needed to fold a single piece of underwear or match a pair of socks since the late 1980’s. (In my defense, laundry blows.) I can’t imagine how on this great earth I am going to manage to coordinate such an undertaking.

Yes. I went to Ethiopia seven years ago to complete our process. But that was different. My job wasn’t to find hotel rooms in foreign countries and translators and drivers. My job was to fill out paperwork, stand in line to notarize paperwork, send away for additional paperwork, Fed Ex paperwork and sign checks. Other than paying for our actual plane tickets, all other logistics where totally taken care of for me. All I had to do was show up. With paperwork.

Ask Hubby about the upcoming trip and his eyes will glaze over in delighted anticipation. He is extraordinarily excited about all the things we are going to see and experience. When I envision our trip, I see something akin to the opening montage of the Twilight Zone; dollar signs whizz past into the night, replaced by a van, tipped on it’s side, in the middle of a desolate road. The screen goes blank then is filled by the image of a visa and a hand gripping a descending rubber stamp…. “Denied.”

I only hope that when custom detains us they put me in a quiet cell, far away from Hubby and the kids. I have a feeling that I’m going to need a nice, long nap.

The Rise & Fall of a Momocracy

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