We leave for the airport in a few hours and feel like we have a million things to finish up but want to pause for a minute…and breathe. The kids are still in bed, sleeping in on their first day out of school. We’ve been packing for three days and our boxes are loaded in the van. For months, I’ve been painting, cleaning, and organizing the house to rent for the summer. We’re locking up the master bedroom, which is now stuffed with all of our personal belongings.

I’ve shot awake at 6:00 every morning this week in a slight panic…what do we need to do before we go? This morning, it was 4:30. What are we forgetting?

But I also know that we have been working and planning for so long that we must have covered most bases. Chris booked a motel for us to stay in the first night, a short 4.7 miles from the airport. It will feel like 2am when we arrive in the afternoon in Sweden and I’m nervous about how the jet-lag will affect everyone. The day after that, we are planning to go 20 more miles to a campground north of Stockholm.

Chris has been looking more towards what we need for the trip while I’ve been looking at what needs to be done back home while we’re gone. We have two different families renting the house: one in June and one in July. I’ve made arrangements with them, recruited a neighbor to help with our chickens and cat, and lined up cleaners and phone numbers for the renters. We’ve put a hold on our phones and mail and canceled appointments and lessons.

I have oils weeping from inflamed skin on my shoulder and neck, where poison oak got into my shirt collar and under my bra strap. S missed her last two days of school because she couldn’t keep any food or liquid down. It’s been a rough few days, but I somehow have a sense of calm in the middle of it all, like the steady eye in a hurricane.

Every once in a while, Chris and I will pause in the middle of a conversation or when we walk by and look at one another with wide eyes: what are we doing? The sense of anticipation reminds me of when I was pregnant: months of waiting and preparing, feeling nervous, scared, and excited all at once.

The kids, right now, are most excited about the flight. It’s a 12-hour flight, the longest they’ve been on, and they’re intrigued at the idea of spending overnight on a plane. They’ve all told me they love being in airports.

So…Sweden, here we come!

Chris, here:

The bikes are packed, which took way longer and was more complicated than I expected. Each box can’t be over 25kg, so I have them all around 24.  I’ve been messing with mapping software online and downloading apps to my phone so I can figure out where to go when we get there.  I don’t see us covering much ground the first couple days, with Maria having poison oak, S getting over a stomach bug, and just jet lag in general for everyone.

Also, I have to give props to strangers on the internet.  We have to re-use the box for our tandem to fly home and we found a fellow cyclist in Frankfurt who was kind enough to store it for us while we ride around for 6 weeks.  Not only that, but the stranger offered to open up her house to us to stay for the last night of our trip.  I have a feeling we’ll encounter more of this along the way.

So many questions as we wrap up the last details.  How many miles will we ride?  What will Denmark be like?  What did we bring that we probably shouldn’t have?  Will the bikes survive the flight?  It will all work out, though.