NOT our best road trip, and here goes summer!

I honestly thought my head might explode as I searched for an exit from the Jersey Turnpike. I glanced at my phone screen to make sure I hadn't read it wrong. As I pulled off the toll road and looked for the ill-signed re-entry booth, the sky opened up and a torrential downpour began. I could just hear the rain-induced accidents on the road in front of me, causing hours of traffic jams and general misery. From the backseat, Ford started wailing. Perfect.

Yesterday was the worst. Ford and I spent a few minutes shy of seven hours in the car. In the interests of eventually speaking to my husband again, or at least not becoming suspect #1 should he wind up in the river, I will skip the discussion of how housing at West Point was his job, how I was the one who discovered when it was too late to overnight one that our designated proxy did not have the required power of attorney, or how I was in New Jersey on a spur of the moment roadtrip with a hungry six week old while still recovering from mastitis when I got a text message that said he had suddenly, magically gotten the house secured over the phone in contravention of everything we'd been told. I'm sure that couldn't have been done, I don't know, the day before I threw some things in a bag and embarked on the road trip from hell.

At least we got chick-fil-a.

It's not all Seth's fault. The West Point housing draw, and its requirement of in-person house selection on the appointed day, cannot possibly be legal. I've never heard of such a thing, anywhere else, and it's absurd.

Anyway, what matters, or what will matter eventually, is that we have a house at West Point, and it is the exact one we wanted. It's ADA accessible, not a duplex, backs up to the woods, and is close to the park. It also has four bedrooms instead of the three we technically should have, so our guests will not have to sleep in the driveway. (Although they will have to share space with dead animal heads.) Our friends Heather and Jim live right down the road, and took this picture for us.

Ford and I are recovering today, and I'm reminded that we did have a great weekend. The BFFPLs (my two best friends, Michelle and Nicole, and I) were reunited, Nicole having driven up from Wilmington, and the kids got to meet Aunt Nic for the first time. (I can't believe I hadn't seen her since her wedding in Puerto Rico, pre-Finley.) Michelle and Nicole and I got to have a girls' night out dinner (kid-free, and what a treat!), and we wore heels and caught up over wine and tapas with no interruptions. It was divine.

And of course we had hilarious adventures. Nic and I took Finley to Glen Echo to go to the playground, and happened upon the Washington Folk Festival. Finley loved the music and didn't seem to mind the smell of patchouli.

She also took Ford for his first carousel ride (he wasn't terribly impressed)

and enjoyed her ice cream in the park. It's definitely starting to feel like summertime.

Sunday Finley took home this gargantuan hand-me-down from Grace after Michelle's BBQ. It's a huge kitchen complete with pots, pans, and enough plastic food to drive me bonkers. It also has a random fake phone that she likes to talk on while she "cooks." It's adorable, the plastic banana I tripped on on my way to the bathroom at 2am notwithstanding.

Ford's turning into a handsome guy, although he's losing the hair on top of his head in a rather strange balding pattern,

and- already an alert little guy when not sleeping- he's starting to stay awake and look around more. He remains terrified of Finley, and we would be too. She's a wild one. We're working on "gentle."

The photos of the week were both unprompted Finley-isms. She currently loves Dad's beret

and Ford's nursing pillow. And cracks herself- and us- up constantly.