Vacations are great; packing for them, at least in my house, is craziness. And by travel time I’m just one frazzled nerve away from insanity. But I know sand and surf - FREEDOM - is just a day or so down the road, so I push on.

This week has been exceptionally exhausting.

I planned vacation for my boys months ago. At least I bought the plane tickets. Since then I’ve been doing little things to get them ready for departure.

My youngest, Jordan is going to spend a great deal of the summer with my brother and sister-in-law on Long Island, New York. They have an incredible house with a large in-ground pool, a full-length basket ball court, and a walking rock garden. Inside there’s a full-size gym and several bedrooms with sliding doors that allow you to walk out on to the wrap-around deck. Pretty darn nice. My brother and sister were the ones that did well for themselves.

My brother also has two boys Jordan’s age, so I know he and his cousins will have an awesome time. He’s looking forward to it.

Trey will be heading for Kenya in two weeks I’ve spent the last month making sure that Trey got his passport and all his shots those things are expensive. Who knew it cost $500 to subject yourself to four or five needle punctures and a capsule of malaria medicine? Jordan had to get a state I.D, with photo (getting that at the DMV was a nightmare all its own). Trey also had to have a visa and I’ve been communicating back and forth to the folks in Kenya arranging his accommodations there — you send an e-mail, then wait two days for a response. Nothing happens fast in Kenya. It’s maddening.

I’ve been washing up clothing and trying to determine what each of the boys will need packed. And what items need to be purchased. I don’t think Jordan had one matching pair of socks. Yeah they were all white but it seemed like every one had a different ribbing across the top. And every time I’d get a stack of clean shirts together he’d pull the stack apart looking for a shirt he just had to wear that day just to sit in front of the television or mow the lawn in.

All this time I’m working every day and coming home to cook a meal; crazy I tell you.

Arrangements had to be made to care for Jordan’s iguana, Tobias, while he is gone. I don’t mind feeding Tobias, he’s part of the family, and very cool. But I wanted Jordan to make sure food was available because that’s his responsibility. Then to top it all off he goes and brings home an injured morning dove the other day and starts trying to nurse it back to health. It has a broken wing. So he’s got this thing in a wire cage on the in-closed patio (so the cats won’t get at it) and he’s caring for it not thinking about the fact that he’s leaving town.

So who does he think is going to take care of it while he’s gone? Not me! Why does he think he’s going to New York? So I can grab a few weeks of peace and quiet and not have to care for any thing or any one other than myself. I know that sounds cold, but heck moms need a break too. And after this week I’m really due. I made him call animal rescue, but they aren’t caring for a broken-winged dove either. He finally found a friend whose dad has a veterinarian friend and she agreed to pick up the bird. Phew!

So now we are down to the night before Jordan’s early morning flight. His plane leaves at 6:15 a.m. I must have been out of my mind when I scheduled that one. Despite all my pre-planning, I’m running around the house packing last minute things; “Where’s your wallet? Where’s your ipod? Where’s your black jeans? What are you wearing on the plane? Is it clean?”

I know I’m going to forget something, it never fails. But at this point, I don’t care any more. As long as he has at least two pair of shorts, two “T” shirts, shoes, a tooth brush and clean underwear, I’ve done good.

Besides, on the night before, anything that ain’t packed is just getting left behind.

Oh, how I long for the days when they were tots. I’d put them to bed about 7:30 p.m. toss a few cute clothes in a bag along with bottles, diapers, powder and wipes, formula and medicines and hit the sack and the next morning strap them in the car and hit the highway. EASY! At least that’s the way I like to remember it.

I love vacation, but packing is brutal.