If vacationing close to home — or “staycationing” — is the newest travel trend, I’m waaaaaay ahead of the curve.

We almost always stay home for the summer. I say “almost” because there have been two exceptions: In 2003 we drove to Niagara Falls because the kids were complaining that they’d never been to another country (hello, Canada!), and last week I had to research a couple of family travel stories and so we went to an old-fashioned amusement park and careened down a snow-less ski slope on a bobsled and spent a night in a tree house. It was way cool. All five of the kids loved it. My husband and I did, too, but I think that, while the kids came home re-energized after our little adventure, we parents were more exhausted after our “vacation” than we had been when we left.

With gas prices skyrocketing and airlines imposing new and bigger fees for everything from checked baggage to warm soda, “home” is becoming a hot travel destination. Hotels are marketing “getaway” packages to their local clientele. AAA offers “Drive Vacations” to make road tripping trendier (even with gas costing more than $4 a gallon, it’s still cheaper to drive than fly if you’re taking kids along). Camping and hiking have become popular again.

But for some of us, staycationing has always been the norm. Yes, gas prices are high, but stress levels are even higher when you cram five kids into a car and hit the road for hours at a time. Add in a handful of food allergies, which makes it impossible to indulge in fast food during the trip, and stress levels can reach a whole new high. And if any of your kids are still in diapers, it’s worth noting that hell hath no fury like that of a preteen stuck next to a toddler with a blow-out.

(That didn’t happen this trip, thank goodness.)

The biggest upside to staycationing, for me, at any rate, is that I know the territory. There was a point in my life where exploring a new city would have made my heart go pitter-pat; lately, though, just the chance to avoid the daily commute makes me giddy. I live near a big city — there are plenty of museums to visit and cultural events to attend; they’re close enough to do easily if I have a few days off, and far enough away to be impossible with my regular work schedule. Staycationing gives me a chance to take advantage of the things right in my own backyard… why deal with packing and plane fare, especially during one of the most crowded travel times of the year?

Do you have summer vacation plans? Or will you be staycationing this summer?

Lylah is a full-time editor, part-time writer, and mom and stepmom to five kids. She writes about work-life balance at The 36-Hour Day and blogs about writing at Write. Edit. Repeat. This post originally appeared on Work It, Mom!

Confession: I do not own a crock pot.

No excuse for it, really -- I simply never got around to buying one. This means that, in order not to be devoured by five ravenous children the instant I step through the door after work, I really, really have to plan.

(Picking up some fast food on the way home isn't an option for us. Aside from the fact that it's pricey and not that healthy, a few of our kids have food allergies that make most prepared foods -- including pizza, supermarket-roasted chickens, pre-seasoned meats, and most cassaroles -- impossible).

So, what's a busy mom (who is pretty darn hungry herself by the end of the day) to do?

I do not have a crock pot, but I have an enormous freezer. And whenever I cook anything, I make sure there's enough to stash in cold storage.

Thank heavens, my kids aren't picky eaters. I grew up in my mom's Indian restaurant -- it's easy and inexpensive to make a vat of curry and freeze the extra sauce in four-cup containers. Later, just thaw the sauce, dump it in a pot, add thinly sliced meats and veggies, and let it simmer while you make a pot of rice. Dinner in under 20 minutes!

Here's one of our family's favorites; it's an adaptation of a traditional Murgh Dopiaza, or Chicken and Onion curry. Double the recipe if you have a large enough stock pot to cook it in -- it freezes well.

Ingredients

2 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs
3 Tablespoons lemon juice
4 large sweet onions
1 1/2-inch long piece fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
6 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped
7 Tablespoons vegetable oil
1 Tablespoon ground corriander seeds
1 Tablespoon ground cumin seeds
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 cup plain yogurt (if you have dairy allergies, substitute 1/2 cup of coconut milk whisked with 1 tsp. of corn or arrowroot starch)
2 1/2 cups cold water
2 medium tomatoes (OR 1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes)
2 teaspoons salt (or to taste)
1 teaspoon garam masala (sold in Indian grocery stores, and online at my favorite spice place, Penzey's.)

Clean the chicken by rubbing the pieces gently under cold running water. Cut them into bite size (about 1-inch) chunks, toss the chunks with the lemon juice, rinse with cold water, drain, and set aside.

Peel the onions. Chop 3 of them into large chunks, and place in a food processor fitted with a metal blade. Add the chopped garlic and ginger, and blend them until they're a paste. Set aside.

Cut the remaining onion in half, then cut each half into thin half-moon slices. Set aside.

Chop the tomatoes, or open (but do not drain) the canned diced tomatoes. Set aside.

Heat the oil in a deep pot over medium heat. When hot and shimmering -- but NOT smoking -- add the slices of onions and fry, stirring often, until they are brown. Don't burn them! Remove these onions with a slotted spoon, squeezing out as much oil as possible against the side of the pot. Set the browned onions aside.

In the same pot, add the onion-giner-garlic paste and fry, stirring constantly, until golden brown (about 3 or 4 minutes).

Add the corriander, cumin, turmeric, and cayenne pepper to the pot, and stir to combine. Add 1 Tablespoon of yogurt, and stir for about 30 seconds or until it is well incorporated into the sauce. Add remaining yogurt, 1 Tablespoon at a time, in this same way.

Add the chicken pieces and stir so that they are well coated with the sauce.

Add the water, tomatoes and their juices, and salt. Stir to combine, and bring to a simmer. Cover and turn heat to low; cook for about 20 minutes.

Uncover the pot and give it a stir, being sure to scrape the bottom to release any stubborn chicken pieces. Sprinkle in the garam masala and the dark brown fried onions and stir to combine.

Cook, uncovered, on medium heat for about 10 more minutes, until the sauce reduces a bit and thickens.

Serve with plain white or brown rice, or with flatbread. Makes about 8 large servings.

Lylah is a full-time editor, part-time freelance writer, and mom and stepmom to five kids. She writes about work-life balance at The 36-Hour Day and blogs about writing at Write. Edit. Repeat.

The three things I most want my children to remember me as aren’t single words, but phrases and ideas...

Dorothy Canfield Fisher once said: “A mother is not a person to lean on, but a person to make leaning unnecessary.” I’d like for my children to remember me as a pillar of strength who taught them how to be strong men and women who make and stand by their good choices, self starters who can figure out how to navigate through life.

In her autobiography, Dust Tracks on a Road, Zora Neal Hurston wrote: “Mama exhorted her children at every opportunity to 'jump at de sun.' We might not land on the sun, but at least we would get off the ground.” When my kids are adults, I want them to remember me as optimistic and confident -- as someone who “jumped at the sun” and encouraged them to do the same at every opportunity.

One of my all-time favorite books as a child was Cheaper By the Dozen, the autobiographical story of the Gilbreth family, written by two of the family’s 12 kids. It wasn’t until I was much older that I could really appreciate the dedication: "To Father, who had only twelve children, and to Mother, who had twelve only children.” I’d like my children to remember me as a mother who treated each one of them as if they were the most important -- all at the same time. I don’t know that there’s one adjective to describe that (maybe one of my kids will make one up) but, whatever that word is, if they use it to describe me, I will be a very happy mom!

Lylah is a full-time editor, part-time freelance writer, and mom and stepmom to five kids. She writes about work-life balance at The 36-Hour Day and blogs about writing at Write. Edit. Repeat.

My sanity is directly linked to my ability to stay organized... it's the only way to keep track of things in a larger family!

There are a lot of things to coordinate: My work schedule. My freelance deadlines. My husband's work schedule. Daycare and preschool drop off and pick up for the youngest two kids. School and school-related activites for the older three kids. The older kids' mom and stepdad and their schedules need to be taken into consideration when making travel plans and, since the big kids are with us for most of their school vacations plus a long weekend every month or so, there's a lot of travel going on. Birthdays. School vacations. Soccer practice. Track practice. Debate meets. Karate. (And something else I'm sure I've forgotten because I don't have my list with me as I'm writing this.)

A calendar is essential, and ours is also electronic. Google Calendar, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

1.) I can have a separate calendar for each kid, and combine them to view them all at once, in all their color-coded glory.

2.) I can choose to share certain calendars with other people, or keep them completely private. Sharing allows my older kids' mom and stepdad to be in on the organization, which makes much easier.

3.) I can access the calendar from any computer or cell phone with internet capabilites, so if I forget a precious list somewhere, I can still get the information I need easily.

There's more, of course, but you can log on to Google.com and see for yourself.

My other favorite weapon in the war on disorganization is my out-dated but indispensable Palm Pilot.

I know, I know... people keep everything in their cell phones nowadays. Not me -- if I lose it, or it runs out of batteries, I’m up a certain creek without a paddle. I use my Palm Pilot as an address book and note book, jotting down electronic memos on the fly, keeping track of birthdays and anniversaries (which I also copy to Google), adding details to address listings so I’ll always know where to find things.

And then there are lists.

I love making lists. To-do lists keep me focused at work; I add a few easy items that I’ve already done for the days when I don’t feel productive (it’s an instant boost, to be able to cross something off the list right away!). I won’t set foot inside a grocery store without a list, even if I have to scribble one on the palm of my hand in the car with the engine still running. A list of what’s in the basement chest freezer, so I don’t have to paw my way to the bottom to figure out how much chicken I’ve got stashed in there (a lot). And lists are essential when packing, to keep track of what stays, what goes, what absolutely cannot be forgotten. (Added bonus: If the airlines lose your luggage, you already have a detailed list of what was in your bags!)

But what about the stuff? Those objects that take up space in the home?

I'll be the first to admit that I'm much better at organizing information than I am actual, physical items. I have a tendency to clutter. I also love baskets and bins and binders, because I fully intend to organize all of the toys and old clothes and scraps of paper, but, until I have the time to do it, they sit around in piles, collecting dust.

But I'll tackle it, eventually. It's on my to-do list...

Lylah is a fulltime newspaper editor, part-time freelance writer, and mom and stepmom to five kids. She writes about juggling career and parenthood at The 36-Hour Day, is the Managing Editor at Work It, Mom!, and blogs about writing at Write. Edit. Repeat.

I know it’s already mid-December, but I haven’t really had a chance to focus on the holidays yet.

There are a bunch of things stashed in the gift closet, which is actually a set of big bins down in the basement where the kids dare not venture, but the big, single gift for each from Santa has not yet been purchased. I’m barely over Thanksgiving -- my favorite holiday, to be honest -- and between my fulltime job and my freelance work, I feel like I haven’t even bothered to breathe often enough.

So, what about tradition?

We’re a fairly non-traditional family, for starters. My oldest three children are mine my marriage (they hate the term “stepchildren,” so we don’t use it), so we’re a blended big family. My husband isn’t religious, and I’m not a Christian (or Jewish, or Muslim, or anything else that technically has a holiday in December), so going to church and advent calendars and whatnot isn’t part of our tradition. I’m a first-generation American; my mom grew up in India and celebrated Christmas at the convent where she went to school, but not at home, and my Dad is from Haiti, where Christmas was a big deal but done differently. We celebrate Christmas, but it’s not a religious holiday for our family. Growing up, I introduced my dad to Monty Python and we’d watch “Life of Brian” on Christmas Eve every year.

I’d love it if Christmas was another chance at Thanksgiving -- tons of food, and nothing to wrap up except leftovers. So I try to use the season to reach out to people we haven’t talked to in a while, to teach my children about giving and charity, to count my blessings.

We have our little family traditions. I’d like to do more, but can’t seem to find the time for the big projects and presentations. We make homemade treats for our family and friends. I place bright electric candles in each window. We get the tree at the last minute, string it with tiny lights and decorate it with silvery ornaments while listening to Christmas music (and trying to stop the baby from eating the glass balls). We leave cookies and whiskey by the fireplace for Santa -- a family joke, but one my father and my husband love.

I’m not sure that our traditions differ than much from families with fewer children, really. The bottom line is that we’re trying to make the best memories we can make and to enjoy the time we have together, as a family.

That’s our tradition.

Lylah is a fulltime newspaper editor, part-time freelance writer, and mom and stepmom to five kids. She writes about juggling career and parenthood at The 36-Hour Day, and blogs about writing at Write. Edit. Repeat.

I've been trying to write this post for days now, and I couldn't figure out a way to do it without sounding trite or stating the obvious. Of course, I'm grateful to be alive. I'm grateful to have my job, to not be struggling even though times are a little tight. I'm grateful to live in a country where I can enjoy the freedoms I do, during a time in history when so many things are possible. Of course, I'm grateful to my husband for everything he does, to my children for everything they are, for the fact that I've been blessed with so many of them.

So I kept thinking. And writing. And deleting. And thinking some more.

How do I write about gratitude as it pertains to having a larger family?

And I think what it comes down to is that I'm grateful for the little things.

I'm grateful for every night I come home from work in time to put the kids to bed, to bathe my youngest children's tiny, sweaty, perfect bodies and show them how to brush their baby teeth.

I'm grateful that my big kids still want me to tuck them in at night -- or, at least, they don't protest when I smooth the covers over them and turn out the lights.

I'm grateful for every chance I get to watch all five of our kids sleeping peacefully in their beds.

I'm grateful for bourbon on the nights they don't go to bed quite so peacefully.

I'm grateful for the things my husband does that he thinks I don't notice.

I'm grateful for the way the little kids idolize the big kids. For the way the big kids try to be their best when they know the little kids are watching. For the way I see them helping one another as often as I see them bugging one another.

I'm grateful for the way my 1-year-old holds my my hand firmly to his pudgy brown cheek as he falls asleep in my arms.

I'm grateful -- and honored -- that, just a few days ago, my 3-year-old leaned her kinky-curly head on my shoulder and told me, "Mama, you're my best friend."

I'm grateful that my 9-year-old still wants to cuddle on the couch.

I'm grateful that my 11-year-old wanted to take my picture with her cell phone, so she could see my face when I call her.

I'm grateful that my 14-year-old lets me hug her in front of her friends.

I'm grateful that my babies took their first steps when I was home to see and applaud.

I'm grateful for the notes written in tipsy capital letters, the handprints on the walls, the lukewarm coffee delivered bedside on my birthday. I'm grateful for impossibly tiny onesies and impossibly grown-up looking dresses, for having had the good fortune to see the same child wearing both, years apart.

I am grateful for the concern that led people to warn me about the perils of "raising someone else's children," but I am even more grateful that I didn't believe them. When someone asks me, "Are all of them yours?" I'm grateful that I can answer, "Yes" and see pleasure on my big kids' faces, that they understand that they grew in my heart if not my body.

Come to think of it, all of those things aren't so little, after all.

Lylah is a fulltime newspaper editor, part-time freelance writer, and mom and stepmom to five kids. She writes about juggling career and parenthood at The 36-Hour Day and blogs about writing at Write. Edit. Repeat.

My husband and I like to say that we did things in reverse.

In 1999, as soon as we started dating, we had kids (three of them, from his previous marriage).

In mid-2001, we went on a honeymoon (to Europe, chasing the Tour de France).

At the end of 2001, we bought a house (a huge fixer-upper that we are still fixing up, and will probably always be fixing up).

In 2003, we got married.

Then life went into high gear: We had two more children (in 2004 and 2006). The kids already outnumbered the adults, we figured, how much harder could it be?

Um... pretty hard, some days. But incredibly rewarding.

Now, four years after the wedding, our house and our hands are full with five kids and we're juggling life -- careers, parenting, housework, homework, and everything else that's part and parcel of raising a big bunch of little people.

With a toddler and a teenager and everything in between, each day brings a new story, a new challenge. It's not just living large -- it's living larger!

Lylah is a fulltime newspaper editor and part-time freelance writer. She writes about juggling career and parenthood at http://www.workitmom.com and blogs about writing at http://writeeditrepeat.blogspot.com.