Insane.

Pregnancy makes me crazy. Not just emotionally insane (although, that too), but also sort of just stupid. I kind of lose my grip on reality. I forget to consider the consequences of my actions. Like wearing high-heels, for instance.

This pregnancy, most of the results of my insanity have been good. I've moved, I've started a preschool, and on Sunday I returned from an 1800 mile trip that we spread out over an exhaustingly short 3 days. And yes, I am due in two weeks. (Don't worry. Brad's EMT-Basic trained. He totally could have handled delivering a baby in the car.)

It was my brother's wedding. Good cause, no? Still, you should have seen the looks I got from well-meaning wedding attendees insisting I was completely nuts.

That's just what every pregnant woman loves to hear.

But it was fun. I might even say it was worth it if my car wasn't suffering the after-effects of the tantrums of two young children in the car for 28 hours in one weekend.

I do not want to clean that thing.

No photos, Mom. We're miserable.

I should probably also remember for next time that the car is uncomfortable.

Okay, no. Car trip and all, the trip was fantastic. Fast. Fun.

The ceremony was beautiful.

The reception was at La Caille. No need to say more.

But I will anyway. Of course.

I should warn you that this will be long. And probably boring. You read at your own risk.

The place is amazing.

The food is incredible.

 The plant life... invasive.

Yes. That is a golfing strip for poor bored gentleman. Brad took full advantage.

And my children even behaved. Through a formal sit-down lunch.

Grace enjoyed every minute. She and Claire were genuinely spoiled by my family and she was thrilled by the attention.

...until Aunt Karlee won the bouquet toss instead of her.

And then she was sort of devastated.

But that wasn't why we went. This is why we went:

Is it just me blushing right now? Whew!

I, for one, am really excited for Lilian to be in my family. I love her.

And... bonus. We even got to sneak a trip to Ogden to see the Neville family for a couple of hours.

The whole thing was crazy. We are crazy. But it was a blast. Even if we didn't get rewarded with any beautiful photographic souvenirs of our trip. I mean, look at that charming, photogenic family there.

*Sigh.*

Even More Road Tripping.

We are finally moved into our home in Carlsbad. [That's New Mexico. We are not Californians.] And I am so relieved that I don't plan on going anywhere till Christmas. But we did take several more short road trips before finally settling in. And I have pictures.

{forgive my self-indulgence here. I like pretty barns.}

{and stacks of hay.}

{This is Main Street--yes. Main. Street.--of one of the towns we passed through. See if you can find the "Lazy SOB Ranch" sign. 10 points.}

{When I go on road trips with the girls, we do not stop at restrooms. There are many reasons for this. Let me share them with you. 1. There are simply not enough towns with bathrooms to allow for my childrens' small bladders. 2. Bathrooms in the middle of nowhere do not get cleaned. 3. We like waving at the cows and insects we see when we pull over on the side of the road instead. This is one such creature. He attempted to jump into our car. He may look harmless...}

{...but he. was. HUGE.}

{Let me just interject here that I am so relieved to learn that this charming motel [check it out in the background--that's. it.] is now under new "menagement." And, well, let's be frank. Those "lo low rates" are pretty good news too.}

Road Warriors. Part Two.

Road trips with me are different than road trips with Brad. The children know this. This is why they dread road trips with me.

I insist on driving straight through, as long as possible, not stopping for food, leg stretches, or gas station bathroom breaks.

Brad's style is more relaxed. We stop every 3-4 hours for food or a stretch. He'll get the kids out of the car and let them run and jump and play.

Those road trips are usually more fun. I know. It's a shock. In fact, we usually see really interesting things.

Once we stopped to eat our lunch and came upon this sad state of affairs:

A flightless baby bird

and its poor dead brother.

Maybe you don't know Brad. If not, you should know he's an animal person. He rescues turtles. If he sees a turtle in the middle of the road, he'll stop, run to pick it up, deposit it several yards from the road, and drive away. He wants a dog. Actually. He wants a lot of dogs. He has drawn up plans for a house on a property containing an entirely separate, quite large dog paradise. He's rescued horny toads. Homeless dogs. Unwanted lizards. Lots. of. turtles.

It's one of my favorite things about him.

So, it shouldn't surprise you that after a little internal debate (what's best for the bird in this situation?), he did this:

I would never. I mean, salmonella. Rabies. Mites. I don't know. What is it birds have?

Anyway. Who knows if the bird survived. Maybe its mother wouldn't feed it after that. But. It wasn't doing any better on the ground. And we all felt happier. (Mostly. As soon as I pulled out the Purell I was totally good.)

Road Warriors. Part One.

We have clocked an unusual number of hours in our car this year. I would say that we've averaged about 20 hours a month on road trips in the car.

It feels like a lot.

And we've had a lot of fun (mixed in with a lot of boredom, of course). And excitement.

Like the time my tire blew. It looked like this:

I was approximately 50 miles away from anywhere. Seriously. You don't know "middle of nowhere," "the boonies," or "the sticks" until you've driven through 300 miles of nothing in Texas. If I'd ever seen "The Hills Have Eyes" I'd be terrified to drive through the empty void. Except that there are hardly any hills.

Or scary-eyed people.

In fact, it turns out there only seem to be really great people out there in the middle of nowhere. Like the guys who stopped their truck when they saw a pregnant woman with two kids trying to change a tire. They wouldn't take, "Oh, I'm fine," for an answer. And when they found that my spare was low on air, they took it to their ranch, filled it up, and returned in record time. They wouldn't let me pay them. And then they drove off into the sunset. Sort of. It was midafternoon. It felt picturesque, anyway.