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.
Last winter Liv’s dentist predicted our girl would lose her baby teeth soon, at “age five” she said. On Livia’s fifth birthday she worked and worked at that baby tooth, convinced it would fall out that day. This morning a little floss and a damp cloth did the trick! First tooth down, many to go. We’re pretty pumped around here. One of us in particular is eagerly awaiting the Tooth Fairy’s visit tonight!
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.
1) These peas taste delicious. I’m amazed I had anything to do with the production of them. Granted, I did very little in the whole scheme of things, but between the Tredway Three, we did plant, water, weed and pick the pea plants. So that’s something.
2) My husband and child like peas far more than I do. Each little pod I harvest goes straight from garden to mouth. I have five little plants set up, though, so eventually we might save up enough for a real meal.
3) I selected this shot for the peas but then found myself gazing at my hands. At first I thought they looked kind of old. Later I realized that I have my Grandma Iola’s hands—and even when Grandma was younger, she seemed old to me. Indeed, this is a photo of a pea pod in a young/old lady’s hand. Ha.
Forgive the poor photo, but I can’t resist posting this shot.
Liv has two questions she asks on a regular basis in the strangest, most monotone voice a five year old can muster. The first is, “What’s behind me?” It’s a strange little game she plays where she asks the question, holds absolutely still and waits for you to answer. Go figure.
The second question is, “Where’s the dog?” Asked in the same odd monotone voice, Livia won’t even look around the room. Somehow it’s your responsibility to locate Shiloh and report back. While Jeremy and I have taken to spontaneously and irrationally asking these questions in return, I ask you to refrain from doing so. Liv’s knowledge of my blogging is limited at best. In fact, I think she believes I’m working when I’m, in fact, blogging. So don’t ruin my secret just yet.
Hey, Internet! Where’s the dog?
I love you, too, Jeremy. Happy eleven years (and two days)!
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).
The birth or adoption of your own child is a phenomenal event, obviously. But the birth or adoption of a niece or nephew is just something else. It’s exciting and thrilling. It’s wonderful to see your sibling become a parent and take on this amazing responsibility of raising a human being (something you could never have fathomed in your younger years). Also, being an aunt is simply awesome. It involves all the goodness of the adult/child relationship without the responsibility—purely delightful, I believe.
I became an aunt for the second time last Friday morning at 11:08am. With Mom giving me the play-by-play as she could tell from the hospital waiting area, I knew the birth of my first nephew was imminent. In a moment between me selling tchotchkes at our garage sale and getting a glass of water, Noah Robert Lawton was entering the world, all 9lb 1oz, 21.5 inches of him.
Noah is a beautiful little guy and I’m incredibly proud of all the hard work Kristin did to deliver him! Adam, from what I understand, was pretty cool too. My brother and Kris are great parents and I love their sweet family so much. Congrats to big sister Madeleine and welcome to the world, Noah Robert!
Liv was a little sick Saturday. Maybe it was a one-two punch from the garage sale and all the sweets she had eaten the day before. Shiloh was either empathetic or also a little worn out, because he, too, lay around the floor much of the day.
Should a photo-happy mama takes advantage of such cuteness? Definitely.
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.
I love peonies. Our light pink blossoms opened last weekend and I’m enjoying freshly cut flowers indoors right now. I’m slightly entranced by the layers and layers of petals; they remind of extravagant princess/ballerina costumes with a bit of sweetened scent thrown in for good measure.
In St. Louis, Jeremy and I were leaving a friend’s home when I stopped at the front stoop and exclaimed to her, “Are those your peonies I smell?!!” Jeremy, not knowing I was referring to flowers misinterpreted things a bit and thought I was inquiring about underwear. He about dropped dead in shock. I still laugh about it today.
Peonies, peonies, peonies. If they held their heads upright instead of dragging on the ground, I just might think of them as the perfect flower.
Apparently, I’ve never read The Hobbit. I wrapped up the Lord of the Rings trilogy before seeing the movies—books, then movies, typically the ordering I prefer—but somehow I never got around to The Hobbit… until now.
I had envisioned Livia and I moving on to the next Little House book after we completed Little House in the Big Woods, but Jeremy had a different recommendation. I questioned the sense of reading The Hobbit to a five year old. Silly me! Have I met my five year old? She has an imaginary black dragon named Big Boy living under her bed, say nothing of all the villains she pretends to be on a regular basis. (Though, I should add that she also pretends to be Jesus and the Holy Spirit. We like to keep a healthy balance around here.) This morning Jeremy has been assigned the role of Gollum, which means he has to use the phrase “my precioussss” as much as possible.
It’s been an enjoyable family time for us, this reading of The Hobbit. Last night’s installment brought about two big moments, moments that made me say “oh!” with surprise and excitement of the knowledge of their great importance in the future of Middle Earth.
First, Bilbo, stuck in the deep darkness of a cave, finds a trinket: “He…crawled along for a good way, till suddenly his hand met what felt like a tiny ring of cold metal lying on the floor of the tunnel. It was a turning point in his career, but he did not know it. He put the ring in his pocket almost without thinking; certainly it did not seem of any particular use at the moment.” (p.64)
Did Liv wonder why Mom was making big eyes and silent but silly facial expressions at Daddy at this point?! Yes, I was all geeked out at the first mention of The Ring. One ring to rule them all, One ring to find them, One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.
Second, I love the way Tolkien transitions the reader’s focus into the Gollum introduction. After Bilbo finds the ring, I figured Gollum couldn’t be too far off—even though I’ve never read The Hobbit, I know the story and have seen at least one animated movie version. The Planet Earth series actually came to mind when I read the following description, “There are strange things living in the pools and lakes in the hearts of mountains: fish whose father swam in, goodness only knows how many years ago, and never swam out again, while their eyes grew bigger and bigger and bigger from trying to see in the blackness; also there are other things more slimy than fish. Even in the tunnels and caves the goblins have made for themselves there are other things living unbeknown to them that have sneaked in from outside to lie up in the dark.” (p.66)
Oooo. Shudder. Hello, Gollum!
The garden produced a radish. I was pretty excited and then surprised myself by how much I enjoyed photographing the sole veggie the garden has produced (so far). Jeremy and I split the radish. It was spicy.
Shiloh visited the vet’s office for some vaccinations. During some sort of fecal, er, retrieval, I was reminded why I didn’t want to be a veterinarian: Shiloh’s pathetic puppy cries from the backroom were hard for me to hear.
Mom took Liv for the afternoon and gave me some delightful rest.
While Mom had Liv, Jeremy had a kidney stone. Still has it, as far as we know. A visited to LincCare confirmed the little bugger and at the moment, Jeremy is managing the pain. We appreciate prayers for the stone to pass quickly.
We’re moving on to watch a little Deadliest Catch now that Livia is asleep. ‘Night, y’all.
Our community dinner blog, Needs More Butter, is still up and running despite the fact that community dinner has been shelved momentarily. I just posted a recipe for one of my all-time favorite salads, Bok Choy Salad; and for a yummy take on an always delicious side dish, check out the Corn Casserole.
We love community dinner—at this point, it feels like a very natural part of our lives in this neighborhood—but at the same time, a family can only do so much during the week. So what is it that’s taking up our time and momentarily shoving community dinner out of the way? Redeemer. Redeemer is our church plant (meaning, a new church body started by an older congregation, in this case Zion Church) and we are wholeheartedly committing to the vision and ministry of it. And really, community dinner hasn’t been completely shoved aside. It’s been somewhat replaced by our small group which meets every other week. We eat, we hang out, we study the Bible, we pray. We only did three of those four at community dinner. ; )
