There's a FIRST time for everything!

Thanks to the Berenstain Bears, I was in the know of a seemingly simple, but genuinely complex principle of life at an early age: There's a first time for everything.  If you really think about this simplistic concept it gathers substance in application.  Just think - there was a FIRST time that someone ate a raisin, a FIRST time someone wrote a letter.  This weekend was a weekend of firsts in the Isbell household.

Those who know me know that I like to keep things clean and organized.  Carter is very similar to me.  He gets agitated when things are not put away and does not like his hands to be sticky.  Miles on the other hand.  .  .  not so much.  While I was frantically trying to finish up some ten-year reunion stuff on the computer before heading to the nearest (read 90 miles away) copy store, I noticed that Miles was super quiet.  Ignoring my inner good-mother telling me to simply turn around, I pushed forward in my task.  As I relished in the completed task I turned to find Miles headfirst in the garbage can, covered in a sticky mess of strawberries, strawberry yogurt, and coffee grounds.  Not only was he covered in them, but it was all in his mouth as well.  For the FIRST time, in my life when encountered by a mess, I did not hit it head on armed with cleaning solutions but instead I began to cry.  Lesson learned - finishing tasks in motherhood, is equivalent to the "haste makes waste" proverb.

Moving on with the day Bradley and I drove the boys up to Medford.  Our goal was to finish up some reunion errands, hit Costco, possibly Target, and find something for me to wear to our ten year reunion.  Those who know me well also know that I don't relish in my sense of fashion, and in fact REFUSE to buy anything retail that is not on sale.  (I do however often make exceptions in the realm of exercise apparel.)  I am not a fashionista - I am exceptionally challenged when it comes to doing my hair, but I can run pretty damn fast, so I tend to focus more on my running shorts.  That being said, I decided to up my game plan for my reunion.  Despite the fact I can still fit in it, I don't think people want to see me in the same outfit I wore to graduation.  Fighting my urge to scour the 70% off racks at Target for a dress, I headed into a boutique shop, lured there by huge SALE signs on the outside of the impressive facade.

Upon entering the store I was immediately intimidated by the very cute and put together sales clerk, who I know was eyeing me up and down and was not seemingly impressed by my clearance GAP chic outfit.  I held my head high and asked for her help in purchasing a dress to wear to our reunion.  She immediately wanted to know the venue, and I just couldn't bring myself to tell her it was on top of City Hall in a town with a population of less than 300 people.  I can't imagine what she should have brought out.  Instead I told her , "um indoors".  Now she thought of me as mentally and fashionally challenged. Regardless, I went forward with my "first" and began to try on dresses in the lavish rooms. After getting help from Bradley and the boys we decided on a nice number that was very flattering, but she suggested I try these things call "spanks" so that I didn't have lines.  SKIP TO NEXT PARAGRAPH IS YOU ARE EASILY EMBARRASSED.  Okay, so I try on a small pair (on top of my underwear), decided to go the next size, take those off, LOVE how I look in the second pair and am now feeling uber confident in my ability to seem fashionably savvy.  I take off the second pair - and suddenly realize that my "AUNT FLO" decided to make a visit while I was wearing these ridiculously expensive underwear.  Now not only did I have to buy BOTH pairs, but I also had to explain to the nosy clerk WHY I needed to buy both.  Too many firsts to list here, but you get the picture.  As I result, I ended up crying the rest of the way around Medford, fueled impart by embarrassment, hormones, and buyer's remorse.

The last first of the weekend occurred today during our family trip to Kangaroo Lake.  Carter caught his first fish!  He was so excited about catching the fish, but didn't want to touch it.  He decided to release it back into the lake.  A few moments later he had another first when he fell face first into the frigid mountain lake.  Fortunately, he had had a week of swim lessons under his belt and Bradley was right there.

Without firsts I guess there wouldn't be lasts.  Because I went into a chic store and surrendered my vulnerability towards high end fashion, I will NEVER try on expensive underwear again.  Because Carter fell into the lake for the first time, I will NEVER let him go fishing without a huge life jacket on until he is at least 19 years of age, no matter how shallow the water.  Total joke there, but some mother might go there, there's a first time for everything.  .  .

Schoooool's OUT FOR Summah!

Can you interpret my signing antics in the title?  I am a bit excited to nestle into home life with my two beautiful (read busy, busy, busy) boys, for the summer.  Although I LOVE my job, anyone who taught 50 weeks out of a year, AND was a mom, AND had a small side business, AND just lost their dad, may have to be institutionalized.

We started off of our summer by planting 2,500 pumpkin plants in the pumpkin patch.  Last year went really well, and we're hoping for another successful season.  As usual, Carter was a super helper and insisted on wearing gloves and kneepads like all of our other helpers.  Instead of taking over nine hours this year, we hired a few people, and had a few more volunteer and narrowed the time down to only four hours.  This year we have 20 varieties of pumpkins, even some pink colored ones!  Last year dad was a HUGE help on planting day and it was hard not to think of him during our horticultural efforts.

The boys and I also have been enjoying the nice play area that dad built for them every day too.  As I look around our home, it's hard not be reminded of his presence very often.  Carter randomly speaks of him every day too.  It always ends with, "But I just don't want my Biyah to go to heaven!".  He often asks questions that make me think (I am not crazy here) that he sees Biyah or he senses more than we do.  Today he asked who the lady is with Biyah in Heaven.  I told him that it's probably dad's mom.  He also told me today out of the blue that dad is holding Baby Paul in Heaven.  It's a hard thing to answer those questions, but it also brings comfort in knowing that Carter won't forget him.

This summer we have our garden to tend to, the Farmers' Markets to sell at, and our local stores who we will stock up with fresh, sustainably grown produce.  We also intend on doing some swim lessons, music lesson, library days, and play dates.  With nothing else left to say, I will end with a few pictures to start off summer!