The road to Tahoe.

Three Days Before. Decide when to leave. Weather forecast calls for biggest storm of the season during optimal drive time.

Two Days Before. Remain glued to radar on weather.com. Revise departure plan hourly, based on forecast.

One Day Before. Continue radar obsession. Experience anxiety over ambiguity of departure. Come to sad realization that this trip to Tahoe will probably not happen.

Departure Day. Anxiety mounts. Check radar again. Pack. Load car. Decide not to stop mail as chances of escaping the 'burbs are slim. 5pm. Text friend who is driving up in the storm. She says there's traffic but that the roads are fine, given the rain.

Departure Night. 7pm. Go to dinner with MIL. China Paradise. Yum. 8pm. Text friend again. She is 20 miles from her cabin and the roads are a mess but there isn't any traffic. 8:30pm. Throw kids in the car and hope we're as lucky. Three hours forty five minutes later we're looking at those Olympic Rings. The last 30 miles were sloppy but we arrived in one piece.

The Next Day. Sleep until 9am. Watch the snow fall. Read paper. Watch snow blow sideways during a three-mile run on the treadmill in the gym. Unload the car. Drive 11 miles way under the speed limit in snow storm to the grocery store. Shop for the week to the tune of $450 in the crazy-busiest Safeway I have ever been in. Nap. Wake and continue to watch snow fall. Make dinner for neighbors and SIL and her family, who spent the previous 10.5 hours driving up from LA for our annual ski trip. Watch iCarly with kids. Collapse.