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Oh yeah we partied like it's 1999! Because in 1999, I didn't have any children!

Okay, seriously, the family and I just got back from a week in Miami. Our trip there served two purposes: first, to visit my grandparents and mother, and second, to hang with about 30 friends from Seattle who were in Miami for the Ultra Music Festival - a two-day humongous party with our favorite musicians.

These two goals seem somewhat at odds: After all, our closest friends left their kids with babysitters in Seattle and rented a gorgeous house near the ocean. For them, it was all about the partying.

But I could not in good conscience travel across the country to a place 45 minutes away from my aging grandparents and not bring the kids for a visit. So I had to figure out how to do both.

My mom actually lives in Massachusetts; I asked her to come to Florida (at my expense, though she didn't take me up on the offer) to watch the kids for a few days while John and I hung out with our friends. That way, we could visit family, my mom and grandparents could see the kids, and we could enjoy some adult time with our friends. And in the sun! We hadn't seen that for months out in Seattle.

It mostly worked out the way we had hoped. John and I got to go out to clubs Wednesday and Thursday nights with our friends while my family watched the kids; during the day we came back to the family and went to the beach and the pool with the kids.

Friday and Saturday we attended the festival and pretty much stayed at our friends' rented house. We barely slept - just a couple hours here and there - from Friday through Sunday night.

And it was amazing - knowing the kids were safe with family gave us peace of mind that really allowed us to let go and enjoy each other and our friends. Sure, by Sunday we were exhausted (to put it mildly...John could barely stay awake while taking a shower!), and immediately Monday morning had to go back to being great parents, engaging and caring for the kids. But it was totally worth it, difficult as it was.

The thing is, we knew we'd be tired and short on patience, and knowing it sort of made us behave better than we might have had we gone out in Seattle to a club and not gotten as much sleep as we'd have liked.

I admit, by Sunday night my mother wanted me home. It was actually kind of funny - I had told her we'd be back by midnight Sunday. Well, around 11 p.m., we got home from our last music event, and John crashed in a friend's bedroom. I didn't want to wake him, so I reasoned to myself, "I said I'd be home at midnight. Mom and the kids go to bed at 9 or 10, so as long as I'm home by 7 or 8 a.m. when they wake up, it will be okay."

My mom woke up at 2 a.m., though, and realized I wasn't home. She called me and immediately put an end to the party. I woke John and got in the car to go home. Imagine how much I was laughing when I said to my friends, "So, my mom called, and she said I have to come home THIS INSTANT!" (Never mind that I'm 33 years old!)

But in the morning, she was cool, and I was pleased with how we'd managed, once again, to balance an adult social life with parenting.