To Beach or not to Beach?

It looks like our last 2 weeks in San Diego are going to be HOT, SUNNY, and wonderful. It's like the city is waving goodbye and sticking its tongue out at us as we prepare to leave. The beach is calling. Here's the problem: I've got rooms full of stuff to sort through, services to end, phone calls to make, mountains of laundry, friends to see for the last time, green-card forms to fill out, shopping to do (suitcase, running shoes, clothes, gifts, peanut butter). Thank God mom has decided to fly out for our last weekend here. It's only appropriate to end our journey here with her and with Jonathan's recent visit. After all, the two of them are the ones who piled into my white Plymouth Neon with me, half of the backseat covered in clothes, back in June of 2002 and drove out here from Illinois.

So much left to do, but there has been progress. We have finally chosen a moving company who we will trust to pack up all of our dear possessions, throw into a big crate and ship on a boat. They will wrap the furniture in plastic and pack everything else professionally. In fact, if we pack anything ourselves, they won't insure us, so that really lightens the stress of moving. We have sold the Jetta (sniff sniff- Denis's first car in the U.S.). We are preparing to sell the Passat, the grill, the tv/dvd, and everything electric that won't work in France- although we cannot part with our fancy espresso machine and Denis vows to make it work with an adapter at all costs. The newest little bit of news is that Etienne has finally decided to go poo poo on the potty- hooray! Why is this relevant to the move??? Because we really want him to go to FREE preschool in France and they have to be potty-trained to do it.

Wtih my infinite to-do lists scattered around the kitchen and by the computer, the only conclusion I can come to is: we need to go to the beach.