The things we do for our kids.

The older I get, the more I can cross off my "been there, done that" bucket list.

Married with kids. Check.

Navigated the subway system and enjoyed New York like a native. Check.

Explored the backroads of England and enjoyed some real pub food. Check.

Published in a wide range of media, including magazines and websites. Check.

Conquered lace knitting. Check.

Check. Check. Check.

There's another list. The one that itemizes all the things I sincerely do not enjoy, but do anyway because my family needs me to do them.

Camped. I hate tent camping. I hate platform tent camping. I loathe "under the stars" camping.

Slept in a bunk bed. For a week. In 90 degree heat (at night) and using a bathhouse that stunk worse than the open sewer ditches on Okinawa (there's a memory).

 Hiked a total of 70 miles with my son during one of his merit badge challenges.

Dressed up for countless office parties. (I hate to dress up.)

Waded into countless battles with teachers. Usually the same teachers. (I'm a teacher. Most of my kids' teachers are superlative. But the few who are disorganized and cranky with kids are high-maintenance challenges.)

Coached and served as team parent for countless sports, academic, and competition teams. There's just not enough time in the day most weeks.

Did the chores: cleaning, laundry, dishes. I like a clean house, but I hate cleaning it. Quite a paradox.

Check. And doublecheck.

 Thing is, there isn't a single thing on the second list that I regret having to do. Because it's a privilege to be with my family and a blessing to serve their needs.

Uh, oh. Both of my kids just signed up for something new.

What am I in for now?