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I cannot stop thinking about the trip to come. I keep thinking about the little condo we’re renting out (far cheaper than a hotel, plus we’ll save a TON on food), wondering which places the boys are going to choose to sleep. The bunk beds for the older two and the futon for the baby, somewhat like we have set up at home? Or will they all venture out of their comfort zones, and really get into this new experience?

Will there be seashells to find on the beach in the morning? How magical for them if we do! Will my middle son (who is autistic) handle the many changes well, or will I be guiding him out of his internal hiding place the entire trip?

Who will like what more? Will the oldest dig the USS Lexington most? Will my middle find comfort and beauty in the aquarium? Will the youngest enjoy being chased by the waves? Or will they switch off in some random way?

Will the Riverwalk in San Antonio be relaxing? Will we stress about the humidity and heat and just want to go back to our hotel? Will the kids love the half a day we have saved for them to run rampant in the Children’s Museum, allowing them to be what they are, children?

Will the mornings be full of cuddles and kisses and creating memories? Will they remember this trip? Will this be a story they share with their kids someday? One that they talk to each other about as adults, chatting on the phone, making plans to do it again, in memory of mom, many years from now?

What I mostly want from this trip, is to see them laugh, smile, and have their eyes filled with wonder. This world is full of magic, and I want them to see that.