Cold temps and Nacho Cheese

For the first time ever in my educational career, Kindergarten - Principalship, I've had a week off at Thanksgiving.  Now that is something to really be thankful for!  Apart from going through every drawer and closet in the house, holding the fort down while Bradley had an eventful return from Colorado, going to Medford, organizing the largest Turkey Trot in history, decorating for Christmas, and deadheading flower beds, I've actually been able to enjoy this week with my children.  In the past, Thanksgiving break seems to be a bit of a blur.  Mostly likely because I cram all of the above activities into three short days instead of five.  Perhaps the most drastic change in the last few days has been the temperatures.  The week started off pretty warm, but after I managed to clear the lawns and clean the flower beds with the help of the kids, we've been in the teens and single digits consistently.  We were even blessed with a little snow.

Prior to Thanksgiving Break we took the boys and my mom down to Sacramento to watch the off-Broadway production of the musical Elf.  It was a magical experience and a great way to jump-start the holiday season.

Carter took third place in his age group in the 11th annual Turkey Trot.  This placing was his goal for the last two months because he wanted to earn the beanie.  I award a beanie to the top three finishers in each age category.  His age category is against Kindergarten, 1st, and 2nd graders, and it is quite competitive.  Carter was pretty proud to come in third place to two second graders.  He ran the whole way on his own and the only mishap of the journey was losing the pom-pom on top of his San Francisco Giant's beanie.

In other competitive news, it was Carter's year to place the star on top of the tree, but the height was too much for him this year and Miles volunteered.  He was fearless and his daddy was strong.  Our annual Christmas tree hunting trip with the Hiltons was magical and cold. The boys sledded to their hearts content and the adults kept warm by hiking and taking in a few nips of Fireball.

Despite my love of organization and keeping ahead of the game, my most favorite part of my Thanksgiving break was perhaps the most unorganized.  Bradley and the boys decided to cook dinner.  The kitchen was a mess, and the homemade nacho cheese sauce was a bit spicy, but it was a perfect evening topped off with the movie version of Elf. 

As I look ahead into this holiday season I am excited by the pure joy in the boys' eyes, minds, and hearts.  Here's to keeping warm this holiday season, whether it be with Fireball, the love of family, or some spicy homemade nacho cheese.

Finding Gratitude

The theme of Halloween this year was "Unthemed".  In years past I've convinced the boys to coordinate their outfits with mine.  One of the perks of working in K-5 public education is that you are annually guaranteed the opportunity to wear a Halloween costume.  We've been crayons, pals from Toy Story, Peter Pan and friends, and superheroes twice.  No dice this year.  Elvis, a red Ninja Turtle, and Napoleon Dynamite.  Although our costumes weren't coordinated, and we weren't able to make our annual trick or treating trip with our friends, the final outing of the evening found us at the Heffernans', sipping beverages on the porch of an old "spooky farmhouse" and watching kids run around in the dark.  Unthemed and unplanned, but one of the best Halloweens in the books.  I am thankful for these experiences and relationships which provide last family memories.

This past month I zipped down to San Fran for the weekend and ran the Nike Women's Half Marathon.  I've been fitter and faster, but 125th out of 25,000 isn't too shabby.  My former cross-country coach and I traveled together.  We were able to spend much of the weekend with a former teammate as well.  It never ceases to amaze me how running keeps people tied together.  In fact, I also randomly met up with a runner who I had the privilege of coaching.  This is the third time that we have randomly met at the finish line, and this year when I heard her say my name, it was as if I expected to hear it.   I am grateful for these friendships.

Bradley spent much of the month cleaning up at my mom's house.  She'll close escrow this week and he was an invaluable help in the final clean-up and move.  At 70 years old, she's starting over again.  I thank God every day for the man that I married.  He always supports me, and believes in family.

Family photos were nearly painless last weekend.  In fact, I think the only pain caused by the whole event is the self-criticisms created by me after viewing photos.  Maybe by my 40th birthday I'll be able to let go of body image issues.  I'm rather tired of packing them along.  My lumps and bumps aside, we are very blessed to have a beautiful, HEALTHY, and loving family.  My most valued treasures in the world are featured in those photos, and they don't care about my lumps and bumps.  I am thankful for the unconditional love each of these three show to me.    

I've created a bit of a monster out of our new dog Mary.  Being half border collier and half terrier, she's a natural born runner.  I can't sneak out of the house in the morning to lift weights or run without a very eager dog at my heels.  It's been trial and error - we learned that a leash is needed in the mornings to avoid skunk spray.  Nothing says professionalism, like smelling like a skunk/marijuanua harvest in your principal's office in a morning full of meetings.  That was also the same morning that I backed into a trailer with my car and someone tracked dog poop into the house.  Mary joined me on a ten miler this morning and was still frisky enough to terrorize the chickens when we got back.  Even in the craziest of mornings, I am grateful for these experiences which make up life.

Here's to a month of continuing to find gratitude in all that we do.  Gratitude for the unthemed, unplanned, the lumps and the bumps, and everything in between.

Soccer, Football, Soccer - Repeat

The temperatures have still been in the 80s, but the leaves have turned, Bradley has been hunting every weekend, and fall sports are in full swing.  When we decided early this year to not do the pumpkin patch it was primarily due to being able to focus on our family and have more unrushed/unplanned/unrequired time.  This last week Bradley and I commented on how we can't imagine "doing the Patch" on top of everything else going on.

This last week we had baseball practice Monday, soccer game Tuesday, flag-football game Wednesday, soccer game Thursday (which mom had to coach), and by Friday evening we were all in bed by 8pm.  That's not including the day to day work regarding our demanding jobs, feeding this active family of four as efficiently on a week-night as possible, laundry - and everything else a family does expected and not.

This week Carter was also the "Student of the Week" at school.  His teacher encourages family participation, visits, and sharing.  From a principal's standpoint I love the energy she puts into this because it brings families into the school.  I had no idea how emotional it would be from a mom's perspective.  Carter asked his two great-grandmas to come.  They were joined by his two grandmas, his dad, brother, and me.  The conversations generated by student-led questions revealed interesting conversations across the generations.  At the end of the week, Bradley and Papa brought in a garbage truck, and a roll-off.  Thank you Mrs. Dean for encouraging forced family fun in the first grade room.

The rest of this month will be comprised of the same patterns found in the first half.  Soccer, football, soccer, repeat.  I only hope that the temperatures begin to decrease, Bradley gets a buck, and our weekends continue to be full of family centered time.

The Workingman's Holiday

2014 Dungeness Crab Extravaganza

Labor Day weekend was spent on the Oregon coast with friends.  Hours were spent catching, cleaning, and eating crab.  Early morning fishing outings netted a nice salmon, and the beach provided a beautiful playground for four boys to adventure for hours.

2015 - Same lineup!

Over the course of the weekend I thought a lot about celebrating this holiday of Labor.  A quick Google search validated my thoughts.  Labor day is indeed a day to celebrate "the workingman's holiday".  A day to give tribute to the contributions that men and women have given to the health, well-being, and prosperity of our country.  All of us on the trip were hard-working, child-rearing, tax-paying citizens and it was a grand three days off from our working woes.  Go us, we all deserved an extra day off.
I've worked a job since I was 12 years old.  My first summer job was running a small gift shop in the town of Montague, CA.  My parents "robbed a train", gave wagon rides, and I got to work at the Opera House.  I was in charge of my own cash register and daily inventory of trinkets purchased.  On nights when the train ran in the evenings, I actually got to work in the restaurant pouring lemonade or iced tea to patrons.  It was there that Mrs. Montague taught me the proper way to pour into a glass from a pitcher.  It takes the right angle to not slosh ice.  I don't remember what I earned, but I can guarantee that it wasn't much.  It wasn't about the money, it was about the sense of pride I felt with the responsibility given to me.

I think I worked there for at least a couple of summers.  Soon after that, I began babysitting very consistently and then moving wheel lines for a ranch that was right below our house.  I got up early every day during the summer and walked or rode my bike about a mile to the shop.  The grass was wet and cold and sometimes the motor of the four-wheeler or the movers wouldn't start.  I earned $2.00 a wheel line and could move about 17 in a little under two hours.  By the time I was done, I smelled like fuel, had dirt under my fingernails, and my clothes were ruined.  Only to do it all over again ten hours later.  As an employee, I was a bit of a trainwreck to have on the ranch.  My wheellines weren't always straight, I sometimes ran over things I shouldn't, and I had a habit of losing hammers or other metal pieces in the alfalfa fields.  Whichever boy running the swather on that cutting would begrudgingly find them for me.  Between moving water twice a day, I watched three kids for the ranch family.  A paycheck was earned every two weeks.  Again, I didn't do the job because I needed the money.  The work happened because it made me feel good, a feeling I can now associate with validation.

Even during college I worked.  I remember the conversation with my mom distinctly.  "But, you don't HAVE to work, are you sure you want to do this?".  In the midst of taking 17 - 20 units, being on a collegiate triathlon team, training, and living away from home, I also took on the job of being a nanny for a family.  Once home from college, I realized that having a job without feeling dirty and smelling like gasoline all of the time - might be a bonus.  It was a hard conversation to let the ranch know I wouldn't be working for them again.  Despite all of my mistakes, they really thought I did a nice job.  After a couple summers at Sears selling washing machines, it was time to further my education.  Even when going on in grad school I still worked several days a week as a substitute teacher.  Again, I didn't have to.  I was financially sound.  I wanted to.  I was intrinsically motivated.  Teaching for eight years, running a small family farm, and now I'm working harder than ever in my second year as a principal.

God Bless America, thank you for that one day off a year.  Thank you for acknowledging that my hard work and paychecks have helped benefit our country and the economy.

All I can hope is that my children can see the benefits of hard work from their parents.  I hope they can see that it's not always easy, that work is indeed difficult, but that the rewards come bountifully.  I love the idea that "if you do what you love, you won't have to work hard another day in your life", but I don't believe in ultimatums and I think that's a bunch of crap.  No matter what you do, or how much you love what you do, you will have hard days and work will strain you.  For it isn't without the hard times, that we can appreciate the beauty of life.

Nice shot Carter!

Getting ready for opening day of rifle season!

Carter gets out of school every day at 2:15.  Three days a week, Carter packs "shop clothes" in his backpack along with his snack and green folder, and his dad picks him up from school.  The two of them return to the shop and Carter spends the next two and a half hours or so folding shop towels, cleaning the bathroom, and/or working on trucks with his dad.  Each day he's responsible for filling out his time card in order to redeem his $2 and hour every two weeks.  Carter doesn't HAVE to work.  The kid has anything he needs and the opportunity to attend a wonderful after-school program each day.  He chooses to work alongside his dad and earn extra cash.  Extra cash he brings with him to football games, only to spend on his little brother or friends.  Extra cash he donates to tip-jars of musicians playing downtown Bandon over Labor Day weekend.  

Whatever you do in life, do it well, smile, and have fun - but don't expect it to be unicorns and rainbows every day of the week.  Even if you are netting 200 crab, and a 27 pound salmon with the best friends that money couldn't every buy.

Goodbye Summer Vacation

Technically speaking summer hasn't ended yet.  However, today is my very last day of summer vacation and next week is the boys' last.  The end of late nights and freedom from hectic schedules is always sad, but I worked off an on all summer and the band-aid was easier to rip off.  Looking back over our summer, I feel that it was a lengthy break that was equally full of excitement and relaxation.

Here's some of our stats:
1 outdoor movie night
2 batches of homemade ice cream
1 trip to the Berry Patch
1 week of Soccer Camp and hosting a British Coach
1 day at Lake Siskiyou
1 trip to the local county fair
2 visits to 2 different local museums
2 summer concerts
2 epic running adventures
1 new puppy
1 Summer Car Show
2 days on Trinity
1 Mountain lake
2 Waterslide Parks
1 Beach trip
1 Day at Disneyland and CA Adventure
1 celebrity spotting - Kardashians!
1 educational conference
8 days in Mexico
9 days of swim lessons
Many bike rides/runs - some even with berry picking
Numerous trips to the river
Lots of visits to pools
Evenings on our new patio with cocktails and the bouncy house - too many to count

We've got a crabbing trip to look forward to over Labor Day weekend and then a stress free Fall.  The pumpkins in our own garden will be enough to keep us sentimental, but I sure didn't miss the endless weeding this summer.

Cheers to the end of an awesome summer vacation and the beginning of another great school year!  May your number two pencils stay sharp and your summer memories stay vivid.

31 for 31

A few years ago I read an article/blog about a guy who ran his age each year on his birthday.  I coincidentally had accomplished this on my 26th birthday, which also happened to be my golden celebration as well.  This year, about a week or so prior to the big day I decided to register for a 50K or "ultra".  I generally run one long run of 10-12 miles a week, but other than that I haven't done many long training runs.  The extent of my mileage this summer was the 22 miles I helped out with on the Wild Rogue Relay.  I knew that I could finish a 31 mile/50K run even if I had to crawl, and I thought it would be exciting to run 31 miles on the eve of my 31st birthday.

So on a Friday night I began to get grumpy and nervous.  I packed and unpacked my trail running backpack.  Too much possibility of chafing.  I screwed and rescrewed my water bottle toppers.  Too much leakage.  I lamented over long sleeves or arm warmers.  Compression socks or regular?  But ultimately I started to really doubt myself.  On not a lot of sleep I awoke at 4am, loaded into the Subaru and drove up to Mt. Ashland.  That's right, not only was it 31 miles, but it was a trail run at altitude, with steep inclines and declines.  If I wasn't nervous enough, I pull into the parking lot and it's full of neon compression and trail runner sinewy muscle.  There was stretching, warm-ups, machismo talk.  I became even more nervous.  It didn't matter that I'd run 26.2 miles many, many, times, 31.8 sounded like so. .  .  much.  .  . more.  My good friend and her husband were running the 15K and they pumped me up before the run.  Truthfully, I think they wanted to remind me to take it easy.  The gun went off, and I plodded on.

Interestingly enough, the run mirrored a lot of my life.  The first ten miles were easily recalled at the yearly/mile markers with birthdays or favorite teachers.  Basically from birth to ten years old, and from miles 0-10, life was pretty sweet.  I cruised through.  Many happy memories, lots of friends, the miles just flew by.  Miles 12 and 13 were pretty rough for me.  Similarly, Jr. High was not a highlight.  I was awkward, kids were mean, and school was not my favorite place.  Miles 14-18 treated me a bit better.  My braces came off, high school was fun, boys noticed me, I had a good group of friends, college was nearing.  I worked independently through those years and earned money.  I had a slight hiccup at mile 16, and that's when I got into a really gnarly car accident.  I can still remember how pretty that 1980 white pickup looked with a big purple bow, and how mad my dad was when he met me at the hospital.

Miles 19-21 were full of beautiful scenery.  I was in love and newly married.  I graduated college, moved out of my parents' house, and into a 780 square foot cozy home with my husband.  Life was beautiful.  Up until this point on the course I didn't really need to walk.  I was taking in salt tablets and food.  I had managed.  However from miles 21-24ish I had to walk quite a bit.  Actually, almost the whole way.  It was steep, rugged, and hot.  My stomach started acting up, and my quads were shot.  I began to doubt myself, my ability to finish.  These years of my life were challenging.  I was working, going back to school, which was 2 hours away, nurturing a new marriage, and then, we lost our first born child.  At this point in my life, I doubted my own ability to go on.  To trust that everything would be okay.  I can still recall laying in bed and waking up in the middle of the night sobbing because the pain was just so great.  Asking my mom and dad to call me when they left and arrived at different destinations.  Imagining that something would happen to Bradley on his way to or from work.  Getting pregnant again and worrying the.  .  .  entire.  .  .  time.  But slowly, somewhere between when my watch ticked off mile 24 and mile 25 I began to run again.  I actually counted my steps.  100 walking, 100 running, 100 walking, 100 running.  I was stronger than the discomfort and the pain.  Just like that 25 year old, I could handle the steps of life.  I kept running, I kept living.  Prior to this race, the longest I had ever run was 28 miles, which was the year in my life when my dad passed.  Both unknown territories.  Living without him, and running beyond that number.  I made it to mile 29 and I felt proud.  Miles 29-30 were hard work, much like the last year of my life as a first year principal and working mom, but they were so rewarding.  I didn't focus on the negative but was able to reflect on what I had accomplished to get to that point in the run.

The best part of the race?  The finish.  Not because it's like beating your head against the wall and you feel better when you stop.  Nope.  My family was waiting for me and cheering me on.  My mom had driven Bradley, the boys, and our new puppy Mary up to the mountain.  Carter ran across the finish line with me.

It wasn't a race for time, just like life shouldn't be raced.  It was roughly six hours out of the last 271,560 that I have spent living this life.








This past month has been busy with cousins' week in Carlsbad, running, biking, waterslides, trips to the river, swim lessons, and mom being a CA Champion for Change.  Stay tuned, the casting agency from the state just called and they want this Champion for Change in their next round of videos.  .  .

10 Years Young

Bradley and I just returned from eight days in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.  Let me tell you, nothing says "I love You" quite like reeling in Marlin and Tuna in the Sea of Cortez.  Actually, true love was spending the $100 on the motion sickness patches.  A little spendy, but worth the extra pesos.

Bradley and I got married ten years ago on his family's property.  Barely 21, and living on love, it's hard to believe that ten years have passed.  When you spend eight days in paradise without children, you get to talk a lot.  We both shared that we truly love each other more than the day we got married.  It isn't always easy, and you don't feel in love every second of every day, but we are both very grateful for the life that we have built together.

Enough of the mushy mushy.  I have to give all of the credit for this once in a lifetime trip to my man.  He booked the whole trip and even managed to score first class seats with our airline miles.






Bradley took full advantage of the free drinks in first class and while I took a nap he decided to fill out the immigration forms a bit inebriated.  Customs officers in Mexico are nothing like the friendly ones that greeted us upon our arrival back into the states.  We were greeted with a gruff, "No, no, no, Amigooooo.  You fill it out wrong.  You stand over there."  That sobered us up real quick.  We managed to get the correct info down, and were greeted by Bradley's second cousin Robert.

Thus began a week where we were treated very well by people who came to Cabo when it was still a small fishing village.  Robert and Minerva have since built a very well-known fishing company and bait/tackle shop.  EVERYONE knew them.  They not only treated us to deep sea fishing twice (once on a 6.5 million dollar yacht), but also to dinner at a 120 year old farm, and numerous meals in local dives which produced the most delicious food I've ever eaten.  It was a delight to drive around with them and listen to the narration of the history of Cabo.

When we weren't living the local lifestyle you could find us drunk and/or napping by our hotel pool or body surfing in the ocean.  I ran every day on the beach and we also walked the shoreline together every day.  We got pretty good at saying "No, Gracias"and "Cerveza".  Highlights included enjoying the tuna that we had caught ourselves, enjoying room service pizza from a pool lounge and watching the sunset, eating dinner prepared at a 120 year old farm with some key players from the Cabo community, watching the night life unfold downtown, fishing, and simply enjoying each other.

You know it's been a good trip when the worst thing that happens is you miss your kids terribly.  However, we'll be back to Los Cabos, with kids, and it won't take another ten years.

We celebrated the 4th of July last night at the Isbells with lots of family and friends.  Since school got out, we've been going non-stop.  Soccer camp ended and Bradley continued to host (read treat them link Kings including numerous meals and a trip to Trinity Lake as a single father) not one but TWO British soccer coaches, Carter got the flu, and I took off on a 230 mile relay on Father's Day Weekend. I ended up with the flu halfway through my first leg of the relay, but it wasn't anyting sleeping in a high school football field, Pepto, and 15 trips to a high school bathroom with 200 of my newest friends didn't fix.  It was a good thing we were heading to Mexico the day after that weekend, because otherwise we might not have made it to our anniversary.  :)  Bradley is truly super dad.

This blog post has taken a few switchbacks, but want I really want to convey is that I feel so blessed to live this life of mine with my husband and our kids.  I can't wait to see what the next ten years brings.