Pre-Trip Anxiety

Just so you know: this blog isn't going to be a travelogue where you will hear all of our opinions regarding Big Ben and the Mona Lisa (although, FYI, I hear she thinks he's hot). This is going to be a no holds barred account of three weeks in Europe with two college students, a high school senior, a father (mine) and a mother (Brad's). So let's start here. Last night I dreamed that I was standing in a hotel lobby with the entire family standing in a half circle around me looking both blank and expectant as they waited for me to make a decision that was pleasing to them. I segued into a dream of the sensation of a plane taking off and experienced an adrenaline dump to the stomach which naturally led to tossing and turning in a cold sweat for two hours. Here's the thing: if the plane crashes, it will be my fault. Who wants to be responsible for killing off their entire family? I'm not even afraid of flying. I do plenty of it and don't particularly stress out. Somehow having my children, yes, my grown children, on the plane makes me feel like I am going to be responsible for keeping it in the air. I have heard this called magical thinking. I'm pretty sure it's not healthy.