Driven to insanity.

We are insane, you guys.

INSANE.

Our dear, lovely friend April got married in Detroit the weekend before last, and we decided to drive.

To Detroit.

With our children.

To Detroit.

With our children.

Like I said, insane.

It was a whirlwind 1,400 mile, four and a half day adventure, but we survived. (Barely, at times.) And it was totally worth it. My children got to experience some memorable road trip moments, like eating sandwiches and Cheetos out of the back of the car on a dirt road. April got her happily ever after. And I got to spend time with my best friends, whom I miss every day.

Jeggings and tiny toes in the backseat.

The dirt road where we had lunch in Michigan.
As far as eating on dirt roads goes, I think we could have done much worse.

My cuties.

Roughing it.

Pre-wedding, post hair and makeup.

Baby Hutch attempting his escape.

My sisters (from other mothers).

With the beautiful bride...and the Hutchster.

Snackin' it up at the kids table.

Checking out her leg bows. Or maybe her gold sparkly jelly shoes?

Fun mama.

Ben and Jackson kept tackling each other.
Cal didn't know what to do, so he just ran around them.

Mama and her Bub. I forget how freckly I am sometimes.

Hooter Hiding.

Powow.

Cal making a very Cal face.

My kids opted-out because one was difficult and one was asleep.
I'll let you guess who's who in that scenario.

Beautiful bride and sleepy baby.

This nice, normal moment quickly turned into

...something a little less nice and normal.
We might be old and toting around babies, but we can still bust a move, yo.

April and those sweet DeKorne girls. They are the cutest.

Gang's all here. A miracle, for sure.

Tired mamas in formal earrings with night owl babies.

11 kids, ages 5 months to 7 years. Two moms, ages ??

I loved every minute of being with my friends and I wouldn't have missed April's wedding for the world. It was so much fun.

But, oh, was I ever glad to get home. Next time we are definitely flying.

Inevitable.

Well, I knew it was coming. At some point. Seems no parent can escape it.

I just can't believe all it took was one time, one silly lapse in judgement while my hands were full with Audra.

Friends warned me about its addictive nature, but I didn't listen. And given the number of requests I've been fielding since then, I have a feeling I will come to regret that deeply.


At least it's not Barney.

I guess.

Freedom.

Every once in a while we get a glimpse of our old life — the one that didn't revolve around diaper changes and reading Barnyard Dance fifty times in a row each night before bed.

This was one of those weekends. Calvin went to stay with Grandma and Grandpa Breyer for the weekend, and Nate and I went to Appleton, WI to visit our friends Lisa and Eric. And, as an added and unexpected bonus, Nate's brother Kris and his girlfriend Alex came up from Madison to spend the day/night with all of us.

SO. MUCH. FUN.

Boating, sleeping, eating, drinking, zero responsibility for anyone but ourselves...bliss.

We spent all of Saturday looking at this:


And doing this:


Sometimes it's nice to just be Abby, and not Mom, for a little while. To have the time to really talk with and listen to my friends. To sit — blessed sitting! — for an extended period of time. I enjoyed our weekend, and the freedom that came with it, so much.

But by the time Sunday rolled around I couldn't wait to get home to Calvin, diaper changes, and yet another evening devoted to Barnyard Dance.

It's nice to just be Abby...but I like being Mom best.

Shame.

This morning I received an email from DSW with the subject line "Meet your new go-to shoes." I opened it expecting to see some drool-inducing pair of leopard print flats, only to find this:


How on earth did they know that there's nothing more appealing to me these days than a flat, neutral comfort sandal available in wide width?*

Oh, how the mighty fall.

Less than two years ago my go-to shoes would have been a pair of four inch heels. Heck, at 35 weeks pregnant I was still teetering around the office in three inch platform sandals. But now my go-to shoes look like this:


I never thought I would stoop so low as to purchase a pair of Crocs for myself. Even if they are hot pink ballet flats. But my goodness, they're comfortable. And practical, given all the time I spend chasing my kid around the house/yard/park.

Don't worry, though. I haven't worn them anywhere but my backyard and the grocery store.

Yet.

*Not those, though. Those are seriously heinous. Completely unlike my pink rubber shoes which are super cu...oh, forget it. They're heinous, too. I have officially chosen comfort over style. Mom jeans, here I come.

Sacrifice.

You know what's sad? When you get the chance to spend an evening with three of your favorite people — who you never get to see because two of them moved far away — and you don't get a picture together because you're too busy trying to keep your children from bonking other babies on the head with SpongeBob watering cans (Calvin), eating grass (Vivian), and...well, this didn't really apply to the third kid. John just sat there and looked cute in his bumbo. He's too small to cause much trouble yet.

Oh, well. At least I got pictures of the kids. It's all about them, after all. We're just their lame parents.

Recipe for the perfect weekend.

Takeout from Holy Land (the sheik's dinner for two, which is more like dinner for 20) + my husband making me cry by giving me four place settings of our wedding china (completing my beloved set) + renting The Blind Side + getting to sleep in until an unprecedented 7:50am + morning trip to the farmer's market as a family + dropping Calvin off for a sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa's house + gift certificate from Nate's parents to our favorite B&B + afternoon matinee of Date Night + incredible dinner at Bar La Grassa + finding out my parents had taken care of the bill for incredible dinner at Bar La Grassa + cheesecake and coffee at Cafe Latte + staying out past 10pm on a Saturday night + sleeping in on Sunday morning + leisurely breakfast and newspaper reading at Bread & Chocolate + picking up our adorable baby from Grandma and Grandpa's + grilling bacon wrapped asparagus and cheese stuffed chicken breasts from Brine's for dinner + eating Nate's homemade strawberry rhubarb crisp + laundry done + kitchen clean + bed at a reasonable time = a very good way to celebrate five years of marriage.

Copay.

Most years I have a hard time using up the money in my health savings account. This year we've already used it all up, and it's only March 1.

Three weeks ago, Nate went to the doctor on a Friday afternoon with back pain, was told it was muscular, and was sent home with a mild muscle relaxer. By Saturday night he was in severe pain and unable to get up. We took him to the ER at 5am on Sunday morning where he was diagnosed with a bulging disk and sciatica. He was pumped full of morphine and sent home with muscle relaxers, steroids, and pain pills.

That same weekend, Calvin and I both came down with colds. After a week of dealing with constant snot flow and a very irritable baby, we took Calvin to the doctor. She said he was fine, just teething and crabby from the cold. He seemed to get better, but then this weekend he came down with a cough, and yesterday he woke up with a very high fever and was wheezing. So again, we headed for the ER at 5am on a Sunday morning. He has a sinus infection, which antibiotics have helped greatly in the last 24 hours. And he finally cut that tooth this morning, thank heavens. Poor baby was so sick, but so sweet in his little hospital gown. The nurse said he was her first patient in a 12-hour shift, and she was certain he'd be her cutest patient all day. :)

I've been sick off and on since I had The Swine in October. I get better, I get worse. I got much worse this weekend, and ended up going to urgent care yesterday after Nate convinced me I might have pneumonia. The doctor took one quick listen to my lungs and thought the same. Two chest x-rays later, I was diagnosed with a sinus infection, a respiratory infection, and asthma. (ASTHMA? I'm almost 31! I thought that was a diagnosis most people got in elementary school.) So now I'm on antibiotics and steroids, and have my very first inhaler.

So...yeah. Good times at the Breyer household. Here's hoping that two visits to the emergency room, two visits to the doctor, a trip to urgent care, and seven prescriptions are all it takes for us to be a healthy family again.

I sure would love it if...

...I had all of my couch cushions on the couch instead of in the washing machine at some point this week.

On Tuesday Calvin had a blowout that left three couch cushions, a throw pillow, my shorts, his outfit and his changing pad covered in poop. I washed everything.

On Wednesday, my seemingly incontinent dog leaked pee on the couch while she slept. (As of Wednesday, she is on medication for this problem.) I washed the couch cushions.

Today, as my dog was barking manically at something outside and I was trying to shut her up while breastfeeding Calvin on the couch, my child had yet another blowout that got my arm, his outfit, the blanket I covered the couch with to prevent further cushion washing, and two couch cushions, which were left uncovered by the blanket in my mad attempt to grab my barking dog before she woke up my sleeping husband, who had just come off a night shift at the hospital.

Two more couch cushions and the blanket are washing now. The dog is outside barking at whatever it was that caught her attention. Calvin is cleaned up, redressed and fed. Nate is sleeping soundly.

But I still have traces of poop on my arm.