Eight days

Only eight days until we leave on vacation and we have done no vacation preparation. Actually, that's not true, we have found our passports and asked the landlord to feed our cats. I should be making a long list of things to do, but for some reason I keep thinking that it's ages away. I think that part of me keeps thinking that I'm just joking about flying for 6 hours with an almost-toddler. Ben wiggles off our laps at home and just crawls off now, he pulls himself up and cruises until there's nothing left to hold on to in his path. What am I thinking taking him on a plane where he's not going to want to sit and there's a tempting Ben-sized hallway full of people to poke and meet? Unless the plane is lined with grandmas, we're doomed.