When Jack was about five months old we went on a little weekend getaway, just the three of us. We drove a few hours out of town to a little lake resort, got ourselves a nice hotel room and proceeded to enjoy...nothing. As my husband likes to put it, we were doing all the things we normally do at home, just without the benefit of home's conveniences.

Our first family trip really was a bummer. It took forever to get Jack to nap, and when we finally had him down, what was there for us to do? We were confined to the hotel room during nap time and our days ended at 7 p.m. when Jack went to bed. We'd also chosen a destination with pretty much nothing to do except walk around and admire the scenery. We drove home, vowing never to try this Family Vacation thing again. Not unless we had grandparents in tow!

But this summer, we were feeling a little ambitious.

This morning I flew to Las Vegas with my husband, my kids, and my in-laws. In fact, I am writing this very post from the middle of my king-sized hotel room bed, fifteen feet away from the largest bathtub I have ever seen in my life. This hotel suite is SWANK, people, with seemingly more space than my own HOUSE, and property management may have to drag me out of here by my sopping wet fresh-out-of-the-amazing-pool ponytail. (Although that may have more to do with not wanting to endure what it will take to get myself, my husband, my kids, and my in-laws back to our own homes.)

If you follow me on Twitter you already know there was, shall we say, a slight mishap with our tickets. My father-in-law booked a 7 PM flight thinking it was a 7 AM flight, and the first person to catch this was the nice man at the check-in counter. Surprise!

I just returned home from a whirlwind, five-day trip to Chicago. I never have an easy time when I have to leave my family. When I am at home, I honestly do not think of myself as a control freak -- but I must be to some extent. The lists I make for everyone on what to do, how to do it, and when to do it border on obsessive. (No doubt my family throws them away as soon as I leave.) I just want to make sure that everyone is taken care of while I am away. Taken care of my way, that is. But more than that, I worry that my children will miss me and need me while I am away. I make a fuss because I want them to miss me as little as possible.

Late last night we pulled into our driveway after a 3,600-mile drive to the West Coast in a mini-van which, remarkably, seemed to grow smaller the longer we drove. (I’m kidding. It was a great trip, and our four kids were real sports about the long drive. Still, the van is smaller.)

We’re a fan of long road trips. We enjoy the stops and scenery along the way almost as much as we enjoy the final destination, and we feel like the time together builds unity (even if it occasionally sacrifices sanity). Even when our kids were really little, we weren’t afraid to pile in the car and drive long distances. It was sometimes challenging in those preschool days, but it also helped them learn good traveling skills from the earliest age.

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.