“Love boat

Love — exciting and new,

Come aboard, we’re expecting you.”

— “Love Boat Theme” by Jack Jones

Julie McCoy … was there any TV character more admirable in the late ’70s/early ’80s? She was pretty, sweet and kind. More importantly, she was surrounded by fun colleagues like Gopher and Isaac. And her job? Cruise director: scheduling activities for vacationers. How fun would that be? While I may have had a prepubescent crush on Gopher, it was Julie I wanted to be.

In terms of my family, I achieved my goal. I became Julie McCoy. Just like adulthood is a real disappointment once you reach it, at least in my world, vacation planning was far more stressful than I imagined. Then again, as a television audience, we only saw Julie offering up a menu of options, juggling handsome men and occasionally booking last-minute talent. Vacationing with a young family was a completely different story.

First, there was packing involved–for everyone–clothes, snacks, bedtime stories and toys. Then, there were crises that we never foresaw–like losing a beloved Thomas the Train Engine in the rental car seat or Chicken Pox in Myrtle Beach.

And the planning. Each journey would begin with a flurry of excitement brought on by AAA travel guides, state tourism magazines and later, internet resources. As the quantity of information increased, so did my family’s quirks. Bill hated lines, Quin hated crowds, Chloe wanted an activity scheduled every minute and Phoebe would go with the flow as long as she was fed. So, how did domestic Julie McCoy handle this?

Charts, flow sheets, a timed schedule for each day and an alternative list of activities in case the first ones didn’t work out. In other words, instead of a poised goddess with a clipboard, I was an insane control freak.

Take Disney Parks, for example. That year, I charted which parks had the lowest historic attendance on each day of the week. We set a crack-of-dawn alarm to reach the parking lots before the gate opened. At 8 a.m., the family sprinted to the back of the park to escape the crowds and lines. The days were smooth and efficient, but I can’t imagine serene Julie McCoy sprinting across 80-degree pavement with a toddler on her back, clutching a diaper bag. Nap breaks, snack breaks, souvenir shopping, all followed a predetermined schedule. No crowds, no lines and constant activity. All the goals were met, and the family had fun. And when did I relax? When I got home. Until then, I looked more like a rabid spider monkey than a coiffed cruise director.

When did the Peer family go to the water park? When it was 68 degrees and raining, of course. After all, what’s a little rain when you are drenched on every ride? Once again, no lines, no crowds and constant activity was required to stay warm. The bonus was that no one was on their phones that day, because the torrential downpours would have fried any electronics.

Do I need to mention that it never rained on “The Love Boat?” Julie never needed to herd shivering, exhausted teenagers toward hot showers.

The real problem was that over the years, I became too good at the job. Even now that Bill and I are vacationing as a couple, the expectation exists. Some things are easier. We book early morning tours since, as old folks, we are naturally awake before the sun. Our meals have become flexible, as our youngest isn’t around to pronounce that “ice cream isn’t lunch!”

Despite this, the pressure to have a good plan hasn’t diminished. And while I instinctively know Bill’s interests, I’m tired of being the vacation director. I waffle, I second-guess and I am slow to commit to activities. Suddenly, with just the two of us, I worry more about picking poorly.

A woman I know described the same Vacation Planning Paralysis (VPP). Apparently, this medical condition impairs many middle-aged women who have spent a lifetime being in charge. Her solution was to book cruises. Her husband and other family members could choose from the cruise director’s choices, and she could divorce herself from the entire process. No responsibility, little stress.

A cruise … The Love Boat. Handing everything over to a real-life Julie McCoy. Now that’s a thought. Then the earworm begins … “The Love Boat soon will be making another run. The Love Boat promises something for everyone…”

And that’s exactly how I got myself into this mess in the first place.