Last week was a whirlwind of work, housework and packing for Labor Day weekend.

This week involves re-entry into daily life after a wonderfully relaxing and refreshing weekend at the lake with four amazing friends. Before I left, Livia told me she would “focus” on being good for daddy over the weekend. And apparently her focusing paid off—she was great! But I fear I’m paying for my departure now, as my kid is offering up some really, really, really challenging behaviors. Sigh.

It was so good to have a weekend off. It is also good to be home with my beloved husband and beautiful kiddo.

More coming about my girls’ weekend…

We saw Over the Rhine last night in Omaha. It was a last-minute kind of thing and I’m soooo very grateful we got to go. It was a fun ride up and back with the Koenigs, and of course the concert was great. Oh to sing like Karin Bergquist! That woman has amazing control of her voice, say nothing of her stage presence. (Jeremy asked me where she was from and I’m now reading on the OtR website of her “torchy, devil-may-care voice, brimming with Midwestern soul.” There ya have it, JT.) I foresee more Over the Rhine albums in my future.

Today feels nothing like a Tuesday. Sunday morning perhaps, but definitely not Tuesday. Tuesdays have responsibilities and schedules and chores and so far I’ve polished off a large quantity of Diet Mountain Dew, assisted in DVD playing for Liv, and watched a giant spider wrap up it’s prey in the flower garden. Tuesday, really? Tuesday-after-a-Monday-night-date? Yes, definitely.

Now if only I can squeeze a nap in between reading some Harry Potter and avoiding the dishes piled up in my sink.

A few weeks ago I met Lindsey at the Sunken Gardens to shoot her little charges as a surprise for their parents, my dear friends. I love these kiddos and it was fun to try to capture their energy and unique traits while also trying to get four active kids in one shot.

I think I’ll post a few Fourth of July pics before the month is out.

This shot of Dawson entertains me to no end. I love his posturing, his clear excitement at lighting fireworks.

So we’ve discovered Lincoln’s “sprayground.” And it rocks. It’s close to downtown, it’s free, it’s free and it’s free. What’s not to love? Check out this little cutie, I’ll call her Twin #1, playing in a fountain.

Next up is Liv. Check out the water toy I’ve given her to play with—clearly, I’ve spared no expense in the summer toy department. (Me, digging in the trunk: “Yeah, I’m sure there’s something you can play with back here. Here take this old cup I found. No, that’s not dirt on the edge. I’m sure it’s clean enough. Go play.”) Livia seems to be eyeing the Bellagio-esque leaping fountains that surprised her with a water-up-the-nose hit on our last visit. I think she avoided that area entirely upon our second sprayground trip.

Here we have Twin #1 accompanied by Twin #2 and Big Sister. They’re playing on these cool space-age seats that spin around really fast. The speed and slipperyness of the seats didn’t faze the twins one bit.

Big Brother. I love the mohawk and the smile—this kid charms me.

Last weekend Jeremy’s class held its 20th high school reunion. Seven years younger than my husband, I tagged along as a spouse and member of Lincoln Southeast’s class of 1996. We attended most of the planned activities—the informal gathering at a downtown bar, the school tour on Saturday, and the more formal reception at the Nebraska Club later that evening.

Being the spouse at a high school reunion is not the most exciting role ever. After a while, faces tend to blend together and you wonder how many times you can listen to the same introduction-type conversation (what do you do, where do you live, have any kids? etc). But, I have to say Jeremy’s classmates are a cool bunch. I know I only met them briefly over three events, but I was impressed by how kind, entertaining and genuine everyone was. From what I’ve heard, twentieth reunions are far better than ten year ones. Hear that, Sarah & Charity? Plan on 2016 with me!

Kids were invited to the tour of the school and, let me tell you, it was weird to walk down those halls again. By and large, the school looks the same and smells the same. I could feel echos of rallys, assemblys and musical events past when walking in Prasch gym. I recalled running laps around the track upstairs, breathing hard and wondering how I was going to make it through the mile for my gym class. I remember watching the synchronized swimmers in the pool nearby and recalled selling hot dogs and nachos to raise funds for drama club during basketball games.

As we walked Liv up and down hallways, past row upon row of lockers, I wondered at the fact that my husband tread these halls seven years before me. I never once considered that my future mate was working on his locker combo in the same location, just a few years ahead of my time. And though Livia is slated to be a Lincoln High Link someday—a prospect that I’m really excited about—I can’t help but wonder if she’ll end up a Knight and learn in the classrooms we learned in.

If you care at all about Southeast, click on a photo in this post to check out a few other shots on Flickr. The new cafeteria is awesome, large and airy, while the very new auditorium is beautiful, too. There’s a ticket office (!) and, Adam, you’ll be pleased to know the old artwork has been preserved in a new location. I was surprised by how sentimental I felt upon entering the auditorium. I can’t count how many hours I spent on stage in that place, creating and being created at the same time. My name is on the backstage doors there, accompanied by a smiley face to preserve my high school self as long as the doors stand strong.

Elsie (4yrs old): Livia won’t let me be the [garbled word].
Me: The what?
Elsie: The [garbled word].

I’m stumped.

Me: What’s going on, Liv?
Livia (5yrs old): She’s a sickoner. And I’m a sickoner, too.

Me: You are “sickoners?”
Elsie. We’re at the Ariel Hospital.
Livia: Yeah.
Me: At Ariel Hospital?
Elsie: Yeah.
Me: Oh. [pause] We can also call you “patients”.

And then they were back at it again. Two sickoners with no nurse in sight.

The plans for last week included out-of-town friends, a due date, a garage sale, a big move and an anniversary celebration. Joe and Karen Choi stopped in for a late night visit and it was so good to hang with them. My sister-in-law’s due date came and went with nary a newborn to be found. The garage sale swept in according to strict schedule and myriad shoppers were on our front yards before all our crap (I mean, merchandise) could be placed on tables. And then that newborn, my adorable nephew, showed up, as I mentioned recently, between a sale and a glass of water. Part of the anniversary celebration was postponed to this weekend, which makes sense considering June 13 is our actual anniversary.

But there was another event that I felt got rushed over in the hustle and bustle of the crazy week: Joie’s big move. So our dear friend filled up her station wagon and headed for the bright lights of the big city in order to pursue life as a dancer. I couldn’t be more proud of her if I wanted to be and I’m super excited to see what she’ll do next, but oh my goodness… the way time marches on when someone special leaves is almost breathtaking, in a bad way. I look at this photo of Joie, Renae and me and almost feel lost when considering how to be okay without Joie.

This isn’t the first time I’ve said goodbye to beloved friends. Last year alone saw Jamie, Brook and Karen leaving town (say nothing of the O’Donnells’ international destination!). Before that was Julie, who was a huge part of my world. Sarah and Charity still live far away—but we’ve forged new relationships that work despite the miles between us. I’m aware that I’ll survive being left behind, but it’s tough nonetheless.

Why I’m blogging this, I don’t precisely know. What I do know is that I miss Joie. And that I really like this picture (credit to Jason for snapping it).

We’ve got a new thing going in our neighborhood: a community vegetable garden. With old houses on small lots, everyone on our block has minimal room for planting vegetables. Enter the old Zion (now Redeemer) lot that is empty—full of potential, but empty nonetheless. So with the blessing of our pastor Tobey, the neighbors came together and planned a large garden plot to divide among five of us.

And now we’re geeks, garden geeks. Hovering, nurturing, worrying garden mamas, if you will. We’ll meet each other in among the tomatoes and cucumbers, and converse aloud about what type of mulch to use, who last watered, and how often you have to do some weeding. (I’m using grass, I’m grateful for a neighbor whose sprinkler hits my patch and to God who watered for me last night, and my husband is my hoeing hero. If you were wondering.)

I decided this morning that the term “geek” applies because we all get so excited about the progress of our little plants. Today I’m astounded at the pumpkin seeds that were planted last in my space. None of the little gourd seeds grew, but I’ve got a few amazingly healthy blue pumpkins whose leaves are bigger than my hand. I fear they will dominate my patch and perhaps some of the closest neighbor’s, too, but for today I’m just excited at how healthy they are. The Roma plants are all doing well, including a recently transplanted seedling. The broccoli and cauliflower plants, courtesy of the Wittmanns, are strong and sturdy. The cucumbers demand a strong tower to climb, and numerous pea plants are already climbing… on the weeds and grasses nearby. How funny to see their small tendrils curling around a stalk of grass that crept onto garden turf. Clearly, I need to get some stakes in there pronto.

I love our gardens. I love the gorgeous perennials and annuals Jeremy has carefully encouraged into bloom—and that Liv has assisted in planting—and I love the growing vegetables in my garden patch. I may not read a book all summer (another post for another day), but I will be outside, rejoicing in the beauty of God’s growing things.

What were you doing at age 13?

Maddie, Jen’s daughter, performed her own composition at a recent recital.

I’m impressed.