stuff

it's the day before we leave for a three week vacation to the US, and like usual before a big trip, I am not having a good day. It's one of those days where Morgan won't stop crying, and after repeated, failed attempts at getting her to go outside or play with her toys, I finally give up and plop her in front of Barney so I can get some packing done. Today I am not mommy of the year.

Nor am I housekeeper of the year, laundress, or even, probably, wife. (All day long I've been silently cursing Bob for being able to go to work everyday while I deal with a whiny Morgan.) All I really want is to do is blink my eyes and appear at my mom's house on Tuesday afternoon. No list making, packing, airport, 15 hour flight, immigration, rental car woes, etc. I want the impossible - I want magic.

Genie, where are you?