So being officially caught up on my 365 posts makes me realize how far behind I am on other posts. Though the moment(s) has surely passed, I’d still like to write about our second camping trip, turning forty, Simon starting kindergarten (spoiler: he loves it!), another Mornin’, Holmes post, a photoshoot, what I’ve been reading, and a few other things that have been knocking around in my head. I do like to make lists, so much more than I like to make posts. We shall see . . .

As of tomorrow, I would be a month behind on posting my daily pictures. That is so close to being hopelessly behind, but not quite hopeless, I hope. Just three posts of ten pictures each, and I’ll be caught up. Easy peasy. Here’s the first batch.

This is going to be incredible! 

What is, buddy?

Camping! 

– a prediction by Ian, age 3, before leaving

To the surprise of just about everyone, most of all ourselves, the adventures we sought this weekend were mostly in the great outdoors. To make a long story short, we had planned a camping trip with friends that had to be postponed, and even though it was the “with friends” part we were looking forward to moreso than the “camping trip” part, we wanted to follow through with the kids and capitalize on their considerable excitement. Plus, we thought it would be a good dry run in preparation for the “real deal.”

I don’t know what the boys were picturing when we said “camping,” but it was obvious they were braced for something great. Come to think of it, I don’t know that I knew what to expect either. After a few weeks of mentally gearing up and then a few fairly intense days of planning and gathering (thanks to family and friends who actually know what they are doing) and a whole different kind of packing than I am used to, I was just hoping to keep my expectations low, stay reasonably comfortable, and make some good memories with Jason and the kids.

After quite a bit of wavering and waffling and considering several options for Plan B (staying home and buying a fire pit and setting up the tent in the backyard was a close second), we finally decided to head up to Ponca State Park. I’ll spare you the details of all the little things that went awry (there were several) and focus on the things that went well. Overall, we really did have a good first day: we found a nice little spot to pitch the tent; we went swimming; we roasted sausages and vegetables and later popcorn on the fire; the kids went to bed in the tent without fussing; the night was breezy; and Jason and I had a really nice chat after the kids fell asleep.

The kids let us sleep in a bit on Friday morning, and they woke up smiling. We made Dough Boys (good grief, so good) and then drove around the park a bit before going on a short hike. We ate lunch and then packed up the campsite before spending another couple of hours in the pool. There is a great little old fashioned soda fountain in the drugstore in Ponca, and we got sundaes and phosphates before getting on the road to visit my grandma, who lives about a half an hour from Ponca (in Laurel).

We had a great time with my grandma — Wise Nana, as the kids call her — and were slow to leave the next morning. We made it up to Yankton, South Dakota, where we drove across the dam and enjoyed a bit of time at the visitors’ center. We had a meal at a 50s-style restaurant that Jason and I would rather forget. And we went to a small aquarium on our way out of town.

We stayed the night at my parents’ house in Fremont, and the boys and I went fishing with my dad in the morning. Then we drove to Omaha for the last leg of our little adventure. Jason and I went to the Renoir to Chagall exhibit at the Joslyn while the kids stayed with his parents — it was a delightful date. And really, what better way is there to end a camping trip than with a visit to an art museum?

All in all, I had a pretty great time this weekend, and I’m glad we went. Camping is a whole lot of work for just one night. and I can see where it maybe would have been more satisfying to stay another night in the tent once we had kind of gotten our feet under us. I think another night (or two) would have given us more time to be leisurely, which seems to be one of the great appeals of camping; as it was, we kind of went one thing to the next to the next to the next just to eat and sleep, not so much space to breathe and relax this time. We learned a lot on our trial run (mostly in the realm of food packing and prep and bug control. And Clara is awfully little still, and hard to keep track of; our best bet was to keep her buckled into the stroller/her chair/the backpack/the pack-n-play). Seeing things through the kids’ eyes is always a treat: it really doesn’t take much to stimulate their imaginations or spark their delight. (On the flip side, it also doesn’t really take much to trigger a meltdown, let’s be real.) I thoroughly enjoyed time in the car with Jason, as we had lots of time to talk. Northeast Nebraska in the summertime is one of the prettiest places I’ve ever seen. The hills and the sky are simply gorgeous.

 Oh, sweet, sweet bed. I think I missed you most of all!

– a profession of love by Jason, age 37, upon our return

A few more pics on Flickr here.

This series started out rather by accident, or at least it started out not at all as a “project.” I have really been enjoying myself, though. The key for me has been the marrying of something I don’t naturally love (daily exercise) with something that I do (photography), and these days, I am actually enjoying these two in almost equal parts.

A friend asked me if I found it difficult to come up with something fresh each day. It is, and it isn’t. Some days a shot is obvious, and some days it takes a lot of creative thinking to come up with anything usable at all. More than anything, I’ve noticed that it’s important to take a shot when I see it, not necessarily “save” it for another day. I have a couple ideas that I have been putting off for a day when “light doesn’t matter.” But it occurs to me that, really, photography is all about light. Light always matters. Also, not falling into the lake matters.

So Simon lost a tooth yesterday. I am unwilling to admit that he is actually old enough to start losing teeth for real (he’s not quite 5 1/2), so I’m finding comfort in the fact that he loosened this one himself a couple of weeks ago by trying to open a bottle with his teeth. Still, a lost tooth is a lost tooth, so we had no choice but to call in the Tooth Fairy.

I suppose most parents find themselves a bit unprepared for this Important New Role. I mean, one day you’re asking your little boy if he changed his superhero underwear and if he wants to to switch his shoes so they are on the right feet, and later that same day you’re sending your husband on a wild goose chase for a silver dollar and sticking your hand down the garbage disposal to dig through the spaghetti bits and coffee grounds in the vain hope of finding the all-important star of the show, which you accidentally dumped down the drain. Somehow this gig is not as easy as it sounds.

Simon was quite gracious about my mishandling of this first little treasure he had hoped to trade in his sleep for money (seriously, who comes up with this stuff?) and about my subsequent attempt to pass off a cleverly cut bit of garlic as his tooth (“Mom, I think this is a vegetable. It squishes when I touch it”). He suggested we “just explain the situation to the Tooth Fairy and say we’re sorry we don’t have the tooth, but we still really want her to come.” Works for me. We made her (him?) a little video in which my very sincere firstborn child stated his name and age and then sweetly threw me under the bus and solicited a note and a present from this mysterious figure.

This morning Simon found four quarters taped to a note under his pillow. He was gleeful and hardly stopped talking about it for the next several hours. (And this is how we knew that taking it away for the day would be an appropriately painful consequence for the doozy of a fit he threw in the grocery store today.) I watched, rather in awe at how this kid can be so big and independent and so little and childish at the same time. This is his childhood, and I am loving it.

On a somewhat related note, you can read my history with my own Tooth Fairy (and other random facts about my teeth) here.