That said, I think at the end of Thursday I was like, wait, it isn’t even the real weekend weekend yet…

The kids weren’t in camps this week and we had childcare Monday and Tuesday 9-5, so as of about 5 p.m. Tuesday it was officially July 4th weekend around here. I took the little boys to the zoo on Wednesday morning, which got them out of the house for 3 hours. Then my husband took four out of five kids to Despicable Me 4 for the 3:45 p.m. showing, which got them out of the house for another few hours (can you guess which one skipped?). I took the opportunity to enjoy a 30-minute solo stint in the pool. There was a lot of non-solo pool time this weekend and when you are in there by yourself, no one can squirt you with a water gun…

On Wednesday evening we went to a friend’s house to watch some local fireworks (they have a good view of the neighboring town). They’d put out a display of sparklers and other such fun so even the teens were glad they’d bothered to come. Hey, 90 minutes off their screens!

Thursday (the actual 4th), after red-white-and-blue pancakes, we went for a sort-of family bike ride at Valley Forge. I say sort of because as my husband was putting air in the bike tires and getting them organized on our cars (we require two cars for a family trip of this nature) he was like, wait, are we short a bike?

It turns out that we haven’t done a full family bike ride in like 2 years, and everyone had grown out of their current bikes. The older boys were reasonably good about riding slightly smaller bikes than they should have, but we wound up putting the 9-year-old on the 12-year-old’s bike and letting her stay home as she was the family member who least wanted to go. (I think the quote was “anything but a bike ride!”) We put the little guy in the Burley but took a lot of pictures of it as I think this may be one of his last Burley rides. He’s getting kind of big for it, which my husband, who was the one peddling that thing up the hills, was really feeling. So next summer he might be using the tag-along to ride behind me. This is the end of an era! We’ve had a kid in that Burley for a long, long time…

(Our plan is to buy another adult bike, which the older boys can switch off using, and will be available if either wants to take it to college, and then the 12-year-old can use the bike the 14-year-old was using, should she ever want to bike with us…).

Anyway, that afternoon featured some pool time and then my husband took some of the kids downtown to watch the Philadelphia fireworks from his office. I stayed home and got the little guy down, despite the sound of everyone else’s fireworks going off (solidarity for anyone whose small kids were woken up by fireworks this weekend).

On Friday we took our first family beach trip of the summer. Well, sort of a family trip, in that the teen boys elected to not go (something of a common occurrence, but they do indulge us occasionally…). But the younger three went and had fun playing on the sand and in the (cold!) waves for a few hours. We stopped by our usual ice cream place where I had a few licks of oat milk ice cream before deciding this was ridiculous. I’m going to brave my peanut butter chocolate ice cream once or twice this summer, whatever the consequences.

(I believe there was another pool trip that night.)

On Saturday I took the 12-year-old to a local brunch spot as her official reward celebration for good grades. We haven’t really done much grade rewarding in the past but all three of the older kids (the ones who get letter grades) had really good terms this spring so we thought some celebrating might be in order. She had tried this place’s cookie-dough stuffed French toast before, and wanted it again, so we went and had a nice time together.

Then in the afternoon, Sarah and her family came over! Her parents and her sister live about 15 minutes from me, and she often stays with them over the 4th of July holiday. Our husbands took the kids in the pool while Sarah and I recorded some Best of Both Worlds episodes and discussed future episode topics. I had been telling the kids the pool rule that you can only use water guns on people who want to be squirted with water guns when Josh came up with the excellent rule that you show your consent for being squirted by holding a water gun yourself. Brilliant. The kids have now repeated this to me several times so it looks like that one’s sticking. There was then some Mario Kart playing and other such games. We ordered pizza for the kids, then left them in the care of my older ones while the four adults went out to a local Mexican place. It definitely feels like a milestone to be able to do this. Plus the margaritas were good. The kids also had a lot of fun together — the 9-year-old requested a time machine so we could get to November when they’ll be back in the Philadelphia area!

Finally, it was Sunday. On Saturday there had been a lot of packing and organizing in the background, as on Sunday morning my husband and 17-year-old got up and went to the airport to fly to Providence. The 17-year-old will be in camp for the next three weeks up there. My husband got him checked in, turned around, went back to the airport and came home. When air travel works, it works — they left at 9 a.m. and he was home by 6:30 p.m. (Contrast this with my 14-year-old getting stuck in Florida for two extra nights earlier in the week…).

Meanwhile, the 12-year-old and I volunteered in the 4-year-old’s Sunday School class. In the afternoon, I took the two little boys in the pool, then (after a quick grocery trip) brought the 4-year-old to a birthday party at a bouncy place. The family had, wonderfully, rented out the entire business so this was a much more chill experience than usual.

Back home I cooked salmon and green beans for dinner (plus rice with mushrooms) and then my husband took the little guys in the pool one more time. I was honored that they both requested that I come in — I am generally the “not fun” parent in the pool, confiscating the water guns and ending the pool trip when bad behavior has reached a certain level but maybe I am more fun than I realize? In any case, I felt like one pool trip was enough for me for the day and their father was more than capable of handling any second trips so I worked on my puzzle until they came in and I put the little guy to bed. Phew!

I am rather glad to be back at my desk this morning. We had a good time and made a lot of memories…and it is nice to be back to the routine!

In addition to listening to my Bach (BWV 190 and BWV 191 are both excellent, if anyone is looking for some listening), I kept doing my two lines a day in my sonnet. Here’s one called “Tiger lily,” with apologies to William Blake:

Like fireworks, along the road they bloom,
crammed in like sparks and orange as sunset streaks.
A line of yellow dashes through each plume,
as each July they herald summer weeks.

I sit outside — the heat begins to fade,
and welcomes evening. Weary from the hours,
I seek a refuge somewhere in the shade,
just hoping to — unbothered — watch the flowers,

of which a few are babied: water, tend
the beds — but some, lured by the sun, grow free.
To know that hardiness! My bright orange friend —
did he who made the fickle rose make thee?

This tiger tiger lily burning bright,
ablaze before it’s swallowed by the night.

(Side note: Not so many mom-son pairs in the audience! We joked that they really needed to re-purpose some of the men’s rooms in that football stadium for the evening!)

It was a gorgeous night (75 degrees) and a great show. It was also incredibly long — about 3.5 hours, and 44 songs. It struck me that in an era when you can get individual songs whenever you want, and watch the music videos for those songs whenever you want, one thing live entertainment can provide is to be a real experience. Requiring some serious stamina of the audience could be part of that.

To say nothing of the stamina of the performer. Whoa. She did that show three nights in a row after doing it three nights in a row the previous weekend, and so forth. I really appreciated that Swift acted happy to be there, and you didn’t get the sense that this was just another day on the job, which one could imagine happening somewhere in the middle of dozens of shows. She seemed very aware that some people had waited hours to log on to score their $99 Verified Fan tickets, and others had no doubt spent insane amounts on the secondary market. At one point she said something to the effect of “whatever effort you went through tonight to get here, please know that it is very appreciated.”

As for my effort — it wasn’t that bad on the ticket obtaining front. I bought my tickets on Stubhub six months ago and paid what I felt was a very reasonable price considering what I saw tickets going for later.

The logistics of getting to and from Lincoln Financial Field, on the other hand, felt more intense. We took off at about 4:40 p.m. from my house. In light traffic, you can get there in less than 30 minutes. We didn’t pull into the far parking lot until about 6:10 p.m. (to be fair, this turned out to be more Friday rush hour traffic than Taylor traffic). Then we hiked about 15 minutes to the stadium. And that was better than the departure! We stayed until the end of the concert, because, well, we wanted to hear the Midnights songs. But after arriving at our car at 11:55 p.m., I didn’t even bother starting the car until 12:55 a.m., because no one had left our parking lot in that time. I finally got onto the highway (about a mile away) around 1:15 a.m., at which point it was the 30 minutes home it should be.

So, into bed a little after 2, then up at 6:50 with the toddler, but back to bed a little after 8 and I slept until 11! And now it is a memory that I think will stick with me — more so than many Friday nights. I imagine that is so for lots of people who were in the stadium — something that live entertainment can do that you don’t necessarily get from just listening to an album.

In other news: As for a little adventure…my husband and I wanted to go to a party one of his colleagues was hosting Saturday night. We didn’t manage to get a babysitter, but then I had a realization that some of the young women posting on the babysitter list where I look are 17-year-old students at my son’s high school. (Note: when we hire sitters, they are not generally charged with supervising the older three kids, who tend to hang out in their rooms or watching movies. They are there to watch and entertain the 8- and 3-year-old.)

So I put my two older boys in charge, each splitting the time, an hour and 15 minutes apiece at what I felt was a reasonable rate. And then I left the party early (my husband stayed) to make sure all was good. And it was. When I got home, my 13-year-old was playing a game with his little brothers wherein he dressed up in the inflatable dinosaur costume and chased them and they shot at him with Nerf guns. Good times.

I will be careful not to abuse this (and I pay!) but the prospect of not having to hunt for a sitter for “peak” times when it’s hard to land one really has me giddy…

After the photographer and real estate team left, I went out in the backyard with the toddler. As we were wandering around back there, I was reminded of how much I love this house. The butterfly bush is still blooming, as are the “pink grapefruit” yarrows. My husband bought mums and planted rows of fall blooming asters. The leaves are starting to change color. The gates and lanterns and wood porch all looked pretty in the waning light.

The house has been a very good home for us. We have been very happy here. I hope someone else will be very happy here too.

We made a decision to purchase this place quite quickly about 10.5 years ago. We were moving from NYC, and knew very little about the area. So in retrospect it is a blessing how well the house suited our needs for a great many years. The mudroom is spacious. The basement is light and since the house is on a slope, you can walk out to a lower level porch. The kids’ bedrooms are reasonably big. We completely renovated the kitchen three years ago and now it feels airy in addition to functional. It opens up to a porch that looks out over the backyard, and makes you feel like you’re looking out at the top of a forest…even if it is suburban PA. I wish our street had sidewalks, but I can run to trails in less than 10 minutes, so that has been a lovely benefit.

Houses become more than just a place to live. They carry so many memories between their walls. There are drawings on the wall that my now teens and pre-teens made when they were little. The stairs are where their little feet ran up and down every morning. The driveway is where they learned to ride bikes.

Our new house is going to be amazing. I am looking forward to this new chapter, but starting a new chapter means you’ve finished another one. So it goes. Time passes. But I’m sure this house has the ability to make many new memories for someone, who I hope loves it as much as we have.

Photo: Staged kitchen. Everything gone from the counters except a plant I got as a baby gift from Anne Bogel — if you’re not reading the Modern Mrs. Darcy blog or listening to the What Should I Read Next? podcast, you should!