We do NOT miss Walter Reed.

Walter Reed was pretty much exactly as awful we remembered. Seth was schedule for surgery Wednesday. He went in for surgery hours later than schedule, everything took forever, people were condescending and rude, it was a long and sleepless night of needlessly beeping IVs and being poked and prodded (Seth) and tripped on (me, on one of those torturous foldout chairs), and Seth was eventually discharged on Thursday a solid eight hours after we should have been able to go. We were cranky and a little emotional and we fought the entire way home from DC.

Basically, classic Walter Reed.

Plus this time around we had kids to think about, which don't mix well with long trips, hospital rooms, or anywhere that "don't touch that!" could be a factor. So I dropped them off at daycare Wednesday morning; raced down to DC via two trains, two subways, and one frantic jog across Manhattan; and spent the rest of the time being worried sick about them missing us and feeling abandoned before arriving home Thursday night and kidnapping them from the neighbors' house in the middle of the night.

Naturally, the next morning the first thing Finley asked was "Where's Miss Sally?" and Ford ran for Natalie at daycare dropoff. So they seem to have emerged completely unscathed. Ingrates.

And boy, could we not be more grateful for fantastic friends and neighbors, who hosted sleepovers and took them to Michie Media Day (I've already shared the amazing video of Ford tackling Army football players and high fiving) and sent us pictures like this, of them having the time of their lives.

Friday was a long day on no sleep, but we gutted it out and then took a much needed PAUSEX over the weekend. Seth still had some recovering to do, plus is reluctantly stuck in a wheelchair for the next couple weeks, so we let him r&r while I ran errands with the kids (Wal Mart is always a rompin' stompin' good time)

and then headed for to the highlight of Finley's summer social calendar, Mikayla's 6th birthday luau. Which, needless to say was a hit. Ford showed off his newfound football skills

and discovered slip 'n slides.

And Finley had the time of her life, lei and plastic grass skirt and all. 

And, because they're Niemans, when we got home from the party that night, they rummaged for the pizza crust leftovers in the recycling bin for a late night snack. This may be my favorite photo of the week. Ford is crushing it.

Sunday Seth tamed the lions from his wheelchair- a major feat- at home while I did the West Point triathlon with a friend. We did it as a relay, had a blast, and even took 3rd place. Not bad for people as rusty as we are, although I've been avoiding stairs all week after a ridiculously hilly bike portion.

And by way of recovery, the kids and I spent the afternoon with Natalie and the Ryans at Round Pond, where Ford discovered water guns as big as him

and Finley danced to the beat of her own drum (we are deep in the ballerina phase)

and I reflected on how grateful I am to have friends who will not only watch your kids on short notice, but will also sneak rosé into the "beach" in a mason jar and drink it in solo cups while encouraging kids to chase imaginary fish to occupy them.


It was a much-needed interlude before a week in which Seth started teaching (which entails a lot of late night prepping) and had to navigate a not-all-that-ADA-accessible place on wheels, and I had to scramble to get everything else done including dropoff and pickup of kids. It has been nuts. We're grateful- that we have good friends to help out, that the surgery was successful and they got the infected tissue out, that recovery isn't worse and can be done at home, that our bosses are being understanding, that our kids are cute enough to make up for the fact that neither of them has slept through the night all week- but we are tired. Friday can't come soon enough.

One more photo of the week for good measure: Ford knows how to party.