Sundays with Kids, and Some Luxury Baseball.

Our return to normalcy after the big festivities have looked anything but normal. For example, tonight I am on my 20th iteration of putting Finley to bed, and I'm pretty sure I hear her singing Jojo at the top of the stairs as I type. (You are welcome for that terrible link.)

We did have some lovely downtime on our suddenly-summer evenings, with adorable Seth gardening with the kids (over-under on those tomatoes?)

while I relaxed with a glass of red and this hysterical view.

The week later went haywire and somehow resulted in me having to take the kids to PT for the JAG Olympics, which they thoroughly enjoyed;

and also, Seth let them have milkshakes for an afternoon snack.

After a last-minute scramble for a babysitter (high five to our parent friends who have been there), we managed the JAG Dining Out Friday, at which we had a great time even if the only pictures we took were at the photo booth (right) and Seth with my boss (left).

The real highlight of the weekend was our outing with all the kids' best school friends and their parents to a Woodpeckers game at which they got to go on the field,

act like hooligans in their luxury suite,

hang out with their best friends,

and behave like this during the 7th inning stretch.

We mostly recovered today, as Ford was sick (Finley/ Clara Barton set him up with a sick bed and pancakes),

and- my favorite photo of the week, since I can never get over what a consummate coach Seth is even when it's tacky dance moves on the line- practiced for our upcoming recital.

(Plus, cooked, cleaned, did laundry, picked up groceries, and hit up not one but two birthday parties.)
Because, Sundays-with-kids.

The Big 4-0, and an Oddly Large Amount of Unicorns.

I turned 40 this Friday, and it was quite a weekend. 

But first, I had to learn how to golf. Unrelated, but in retrospect kind of a funny pairing.

I didn't want to embarrass myself at the Law Day Golf Tournament, so Seth found an awesome family-run driving range Tuesday night and we all headed out to work on our swings. 

(Fine, mostly Finley played in the sand, but a good time was had by all)-

until I swung anyway after Seth warned me not to with his long-handled and wildly expensive custom driver under the (metal) sunshade, and this happened.

Luckily he has a tremendous sense of humor (and far less financial conservatism than his wife), and he forgave me in time to be a last-minute fourth at the tournament the next day. We did not win by any wild stretch of the imagination, but we golfed with my boss and I did not get fired, so I consider that a success. Plus, it was practically a day date, sharing a golf cart and splitting lukewarm Bud Lights and cursing at divots together.

We switched back to something we're slightly better at the next day, though, and resumed after school soccer practice. Finley sported unicorn accessories, Ford showed off his sportsmanship, and Dad-kid drills looked like this. So, pretty much the cutest thing ever.

And then, having kind of snuck up on me, it was the big day. It started with "Mom, I pooped"; included cleaning the entire house, having to drag 50 pounds worth of kids on my morning run in a  stroller they've definitely outgrown, and folding three loads of laundry; and then, because Seth Nieman is the best husband ever, the limo showed up.

Finley + Ford were beside themselves, and so were we, watching them dance and pretend (?) to sip champagne.

It's been a rough year or so for Team Nieman and I hadn't been feeling particularly celebratory, but Seth put together the sweetest, most thoughtful surprise party, at one of my favorite places with many of my favorite people

from all the different moves and deployments and jobs and stages of my life. It couldn't have been more special, or made 40 feel more like a gift.

(Even if, from looking at the pictures, you'd be pretty sure it was Finley's party. Hilariously, the next day she told us "Mom, I thought your party would be lame, but it was the best night ever.")

Ford also had a good time, although he's a second kid so significantly less photographed; and partied until he- literally- fell asleep in the limo.

And we finished off the night in matching unicorn onesies.

As one does.

As if all of that weren't enough to make a gal feel insanely lucky and loved, Seth came up with the birthday present of a lifetime: my very own RV, which I had been secretly (fine, maybe not so secretly) coveting for years.

Milestone birthday and Mother's Day all in one weekend is a lot, but Seth rose to the challenge and took his wife and his Mom to our perfect place for Mother's Day "brunch," Dirtbag Ales Farmer's Market, where we drank craft beer,

threw axes,

and did Mother's Day right, in low key Nieman style.

Oh, and Finley got attacked by fire ants. And Ford bought himself a half gallon of chocolate milk, with money he literally pickpocketed from me. You know, all the best stuff.

We capped off the weekend with the maiden voyage of the new camper, just down the road at Smith Lake, where we learned the seriously complicated ins and outs of RV usage and the kids had a blast with "their" new camper.

Too many great photos from the weekend of a lifetime to pick a favorite, but I am beyond grateful: to my friends who rearranged schedules to be there and make the occasion special, to Jayne for making the trip out to surprise me and never complaining about being assigned the worst camping and bedtime jobs, to F+F for making absolutely everything at least 1000 times more fun, and to Seth, for loving big and gifting bigger. (And for bending over backwards to make 40 special.) I am lucky indeed. 

Picture day, haircuts, and the beach.

Monday was picture day at school, and we had either missed the flier or completely forgotten about it in the whirlwind of clamoring kids and progress reports and field trip money and artwork that is after school pickups. And, Monday being what it is; our will to fight outfit and hairstyle fights having dissipated roughly ten seconds into the week; F+F showed up to picture day like this:

The school director asked me if I wanted to take them home to change. 

Um, no thanks. We usually just roll with it, rainbow socks and all. Get ready for some sweet Christmas card photos.

A long week followed, with a break for playground time and Sammio's specials and yet another new pool (hope springing eternal in the "plastic longevity" realm),

followed by the usual Saturday morning madness, which included ballet (and this reminder that we are going to need a lot of practice before spring recital...)

plus "kid dates" for pedicures and haircuts, respectively;

and finally Mom & Dad got to insist on a late afternoon lunch date at the kicka$$ food truck rodeo at Hugger Mugger Brewery. (We heart local, especially when it's wood-fired and/or small batch. Although I'm a tad concerned with how at-home Finley looks seated at a bar.)

We had a solid laugh about a tired Ford, possibly the only person we know who can maintain this terrible tantrum face while eating artisan pizza.

Saturday night saw us surviving a tornado warning at a Woodpeckers game, our favorite weekend enetrtainment and the highlight of Ford's young life,

before making a late night run for the beach. (We had a friend's family Memorial Service near Camp Lejeune and had decided to make a road trip out of it.) Seth drove late at night through terrible storms, but we woke up to relative calm at deserted Onslow Beach.

Shoulder season turns out to be our beach jam, since it was cool (for here) and breezy, and F+F only required 7 coats of sunblock.

They "surfed" and flew kites with Dad

before passing out in the car, only to revive post-memorial service to stuff their faces with barbecue and leap into the water with clothes on at the reception following.

I hope someone does that at my funeral.

And now it's Monday again, which started with uninvited "workout buddies"

and ended with my showing up at home to Seth having built a garden with the kids, who are so excited to grow their own 'matoes. (While I hope fervently they didn't inherit my black thumb.)

My favorite photo of the week, though, is this one, of Seth and the old Desert Eagles crew at Reid's change of command Friday. They don't get the gang back together often, but I love it when they do. Definitely not a bad looking crew.