Last week, I got to spend a few days at one of my favorite summertime destinations and, would you believe, it is NOT Disney?

My family has never been, actually.

Nope, in fact, I was happy for the opportunity to write about my favorite vacation spot, here in Jersey (is, too!!!)

Still, leaving home, without my kids, is always hard. 

However, I did not expect my youngest daughter to cry and hug me, as hard, as she did, or to make my son feel as if I were never coming back home, ever again.

Then, about halfway into the 2+ hour car ride it dawned me.

"Hi mom, we need the password for Netflix."

My kids were sad, beeeeeecause, they weren't allowed to, you know, come with me and, well, the fact that they probably would be fine, without me (for the next few days, at least) just made my time away from home a little easier.

Then, I came home, gave them each their presents (don't judge) and we ALL settled in to catch up on Season 2 of Glee (thank you, Netflix) when it hit.

"Mom, we need to practice parallel parking!!!"

A wave of nausea, when realizing that my oldest daughter is taking her driving test on Tuesday and...for those of you who have been reading along...for the last 8 years (you know who you are!) and my many new friends I've met over the internets...I hope you understand when I repeat this, all in UPPERCASE:

HOLLY WILL (or will not) BE ISSUED A NEW JERSEY DRIVER'S LICENSE, TOMORROW!!!

Oh and, one more thing:

HOW IN THE H...E...DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS DID THAT HAPPEN, ANYWAY?!?!?

[takes deep breath]

So, Garth (not his real name) and I traded cars, since she'll be road-testing in it, anyway.

Also, the hand break is in the center console, where instructor can reach it, if need be, but I hope not, still, you never know, it is supposed to rain, like buckets, okay, pour actually, ugh, moving on.

Late this afternoon, Holly and I headed over to the high school and, seeing as I grew up about 25 minutes outside of New York City, while my husband grew up with head on parking (ONLY!) I instructed my 17 year-old in the fine art of parallel parking.

Phase 1:  wasn't very successful and I suspected it was because the poor kid couldn't see the back of the first pretend car.

"This is no use, Mom, I can't see the garbage can in the front!"

See, I told you, because, I'm smart like that.

Phase 2:  I found the pair of slippers, from Christmas, that don't fit Garth (not his real name) in the trunk, so I balanced it right on top of an empty box of garbage bags and, viola!!!

Almost, not quite, but I just stood there, taking pictures, all quiet like (which is very, very hard for a Hungarian, just so you know) and let Holly get a feel for her.

Well, seems like she's ready and close enough to the curb for Mr. or Ms. DMV Instructor, even, right?

"I'm gonna pass this suh-cuh!"

Yep, to me, it sounds like she's more than ready to drive, in Jersey!

"Even if you don't, no biggie!"

Seriously, we live in Jersey, either way, she parks like her muh-thuh.

"Can I blog this?"

So, you know, I could remember what in the h...e...double hockey sticks I did...for the next 3 times, I mean.

"Can you believe that Hope's turning double-digits this week, too, Mom?"

Because, you know, they don't stay little for long...DAGNABIT!!!!

UPDATED TO ADD:  She passed.  I did NOT puke.  Aaaaand, now it starts...

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