On the occasions I have gone away during the summer, I have found the planning around everyone’s social schedule a pain in the neck—only to realize my family would prefer to have stayed home in the first place.

I stay put, right where I am. I give myself the gift of one less “thing” to stress about, plan, or organize. However, I do love the school break vacations. Those are the times out of busy school year when my family does need to re-connect and relax.

But if given the choice, I travel as far as the boat, the lake, or the pool during the summer, with the weekly day trip thrown in as a change of scenery. Summer vacations can be exhausting…at least for some of us.

My father-in-law has joked many times over the years about my mother-in-law falling asleep before they left the driveway en route to a vacation destination. She never defended herself, just shook her head. They had six kids and traveled the country in an RV on vacations.

How many times my family has driven a long distance to vacation in another state… and taking a plane is no walk in the park either. The stress levels for both I would guess are about the same.

After I justify to my husband why a family of five has five pieces of luggage, I spend the first two hours of the journey, like the mother in the movie Home Alone, where she sits on the plane tormented by the feeling that she’s forgotten something.

Although I’m happy to report that I have never forgotten one of my children like she did, I will admit to the occasional heart-stopping moments when I’ve whipped my head around to make sure they’re all present and accounted for in the backseat as we head out of town.

But who could blame me? We women, mothers, and wives work double time getting ready for family trips. It’s a wonder we’re sane enough to embark on such long journeys, especially when it seems that our traveling companions are determined to push us over the edge with their backseat commentary, arguments, sleeping issues, potty breaks, and that age old questions: “Are we there yet?” and “How much longer?” My all time favorites are: “Mom, he keeps touching me!” and “She has her feet on my side!”

At this point I’m usually wondering, Whose idea was this trip and what was I thinking putting the Excedrin in the suitcase instead of my purse?

In an early attempt to make everyone comfortable, I’ve crammed a number of his or her bags on the floor at my feet. It occurs to me by the fifth hour that I no longer have feeling in my legs.

For weeks we women have shopped, planned, and organized for these much-needed family getaways. And today a plane ride is just as stressful. We’ve taken the dog to the kennel and arranged for someone to take in the mail and put out the garbage. We’ve cleaned out the refrigerator, straightened up the house, and washed that last load of “must-have” laundry.

Everyone has a fresh haircut and a new bag of elastics for their braces.

We’ve adjusted the thermostat and put the lights on timers.

We remembered the movies, blankets, and pillows for the car, and the beach towels, goggles, and sunscreen for the hotel. We’ve packed the diaper bag with as many emergency items, snacks, and new toys and books to entertain our young children forever…or so we thought. Often after just three hours we realize we have no more tricks up our sleeve and then we pray they snooze comfortably for the rest of the trip.

We know the exact items in everyone’s suitcases. Why? Because we packed them. And those same perfectly packed articles of clothing will become mounds of laundry upon our return, just waiting for us.

For some additional stress for the long car ride, some husbands relentlessly search for the lowest gas prices. This typically gets us off the highway, into a less desirable part of town, driving on fumes, with kids begging to use a bathroom—any bathroom—for at least two hours.

My husband remembers the vacation his family actually ran out of gas when his dad challenged the gas prices of the 70s.

For hours I continuously ask; “Do you want me to drive now?”  For eight hours my offer is rejected so I continue to entertain and make the troops comfortable and happy while keeping my driver husband alert with my endless chatter while I strain to keep my eyelids opened.

By 3 a.m. he’s had enough driving, and it is now my turn to take over the helm. Within seconds my entire cargo is now sleeping and it is just me, the radio, an open window, and a ton of coffee to keep me company.

With three hours of sleep my husband now drives the last hour and a half. As we pull into my in-laws' South Carolina driveway, my father-in-law commends my husband on driving the whole trip and naturally asks what we paid for gas.

My mother-in-law however, shoots me a look of pure empathy. Now I know why she never defended herself all these years…she was too exhausted.

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