For the past two weeks, I've been at my Dad’s house cleaning it out from top to bottom in order for him to sell it. When I say "cleaning from top to bottom," I literally mean every closet, drawer, and cabinet -- including his attic. He and my Mom lived in this house -- my childhood home -- for thirty years. To say that there are thirty years of memories and memorabilia stored in the house is a huge understatement!

How much stuff does a family of six need to pack in order to drive across the country?

A lot of stuff, it turns out. A LOT.

We prepared for this vacation of ours with a little too much confidence, I’m afraid. It’s our first major driving trip without a young preschooler. We don’t need pacifiers, sippy cups, diapers, diaper rash ointment, baby shampoo and playpens. And as much as I loved all the baby sweetness that came along with all that gear, I’ve been a little giddy at the thought of traveling with just my people and their clothes. I might’ve even bragged to a friend with little ones how easy it was going to be to hop in the car and just GO.

We ate a hearty lunch of pizza at the pool today. When we were done, I closed the pizza box and reapplied the sunscreen just as slowly as I could. The natives were restless and wanted me to hurry, but we had to take our time, I explained -- “because if you swim too soon after eating, you’ll get sick.”

Why did I say that? Is this really an epidemic of such proportions that mothers of every generation find it worthy of mention? Are there really ambulance drivers squealing into the pool parking lots all over this nation to pick up little Teddy because he jumped in the water before his corn dog was fully digested?

I have a confession to make. (Don't judge me before you hear me out!) I am a procrastinator. I know. You are horrified to hear such a thing from me but it is true. If I am anything with you, it is honest. Therefore, I felt it was time to come clean. (I should have told you weeks ago. I realize that.)

It seems I tend to be eternally late with everything. (Christmas cards should go out before the 24th of December?! Really?) In fact, I am terrible with deadlines. (Shhh! Do not tell my editor.) I count on my friends, co-workers and Google Calendar to remind me when I have an upcoming appointment, project or deadline.

It was always a strike against me in school. Yes, I was the student who waited until the last minute to get her work done. Thankfully, I was able to maintain an A average in spite of my irresponsibility. Besides, if I missed a deadline, I was the only one who suffered back then. To be honest, the adrenaline rush of making sure I met the deadline usually resulted in better work and more concentration on the project.

I have four children. That’s not, by some standards, a gigantic family (although the floor of my laundry room occasionally makes me wonder if we’ve somehow added a few stowaway children I haven’t met yet). To me, four feels like a lot sometimes. My husband and I both come from small families. We are still occasionally mystified that we manage a crew that cannot be safely transported in a normal sedan, and that we automatically have a parties-of-six-or-more gratuity figured in the moment we walk in a restaurant.

But it’s a good life, and I wouldn’t trade the chaos and laundry for all the sedans in the world. Still, there’s a learning curve involved in managing a larger-than-average family, and I’ll take all the pointers I can get.

So I was absolutely thrilled to learn about a new book by one of my favorite bloggers. She’s Mary Ostyn, of Owlhaven, and I started reading her blog about three years ago. Her story is a striking one: she and her husband John are the parents of ten children, six of whom they’ve adopted internationally. What I have loved about Mary, and the reason I have continued to soak up her wisdom every chance I get, is that she does not pretend to be Super Mom. She loves and enjoys all her children, all while admitting that it’s sometimes hard and messy. She faces parenting challenges squarely, with a wicked sense of humor and a hefty dose of common sense. I had the privilege of meeting her at a conference last summer, and it was such a treat to pick her brain in person!