Last weekend Tom and I embarked on what people fear even before they have babies. That this scares people before their lives implode into a newborn means it should be taken seriously. Before the baby is when people are sure they’ll be laid-back, unencumbered by baby gear and will stay out past their child’s dorkishly early bed time. They’re sure they’ll be different than all their lame parent-friends, but they still fear one thing: a road trip with a baby.

A road trip with a grenade strapped in the backseat should be done with trepidation. And take it from me: it should also be done with grandparents. Tom’s parents were way more helpful than pacifiers, teething biscuits and even Baby Tylenol. The trip was an 8ish-hour drive., which we decided to do in 3-hour segments. At the end of each segment David started unfurling, rebelling against the car seat and throwing his snacks at the driver. That’s when we’d stop and give him some time to roll around, then we’d take him back to the car and he’d try to wrestle me into the car seat as if to say, “You think this is fun? Then YOU try riding  strapped in this seat.”

The thing David didn’t realize is that he actually DID have the best seat in the car. He was fully reclined with two people catering to his every whim. He had a bag full of snacks just for him and anytime he wanted to sleep everyone would fall into a code of silence. Think you have it bad now, David? Sorry, bud, it’s only downhill from here.

Hilton Head was wonderful, and a great break from the heavy pollen and inchworm invasion in Richmond.

We went for a wedding, which was totally worth the trip. It was a beautiful celebration. (And a great excuse to take more than two showers that week. Tom hasn’t seen my hair this clean in 8 months.)

This is Tom’s mom’s lap before the wedding. It’s a blurry shot, but it captures her roles that day perfectly. She’s clutching David’s floppy dog, a foam number 5 and a tissue — ready to entertain her grandson at a moment’s notice, and ready to dab tears as a girl she watched grow up walked down the aisle.

David was awesome during the wedding. Can you hear that? It’s my mom saying, “Of coooourse he was! He’s perfect!”

Once we got to the reception he really let his hair down.

I would make a comment here about how reckless Pops is for letting the baby have beer, but that may or may not be my hand holding up the bottle.

As with most weddings, seeing friends was one of the highlights.

The bride was Allison, a family friend of the Kriegers. Their families grew up together in Richmond and everyone is still very close.

And the mother of the bride, Alisa, is one of Peggy’s best friends. They were part of a group of moms that all had kids, mostly boys, around the same age.

They called the group “The Mommy Network,” and they prayed, babysat, gave advice, kept each other updated on things like girlfriends and trouble at school, and otherwise kept each other sane while they raised their kids.

The kids have all moved on to jobs and marriage and kids of their own, but the mommies are all still friends. They’re the kind of friends that make me hope I have a great group of mom friends to help me wade through the next 20 or so years ahead.

My favorite part of every reception is not the food or the cake or the speeches; I live for the dancing.

David does too. He loved the reception. As with church, the grocery store, and the post office, David believes everyone had dressed up and gathered just to see him.

The music slowed down and Tom and I danced while Mimi danced with David. In the 4 minutes and 47 seconds of dancing to (I’ve Had) the Time of My Life, David crashed on Mimi’s shoulder. It was just 13 minutes after his bedtime, but David was partied out. Maybe it was the beer.

Or maybe it was Mimi’s touch.

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