I still remember the first slow Saturday after school drop-off when the kids were tiny, and the neighborhood smelled like someone baking cinnamon rolls. Now, in my forties with two lively kids aged eight and eleven, mornings are a blend of packing lunches, checking homework, and waving to Mrs. Franklin across the street as she walks her dog. Evenings are a patchwork of piano practice, homework, and backyard games under the string lights. That simple rhythm pushed me to make our outdoor spaces feel like a second living room where memories happen. I started collecting little ideas on the fly,…