But That's Life. . .

Thanks to my SVJH 7th grade PE teacher Mr. Forrester, I have now been running five or six days a week for almost 15 years.  I don't remember those first few miles that I logged, but I remember feeling proud and content.  Over the years I've run for many reasons.  Weight loss, depression, anxiety, death, loss, sadness, happiness, elation, frustration, soul-searching, fitness, PRs, qualifiers, medals, trophies, time, friendship, travel, with a stroller and kids, and without.  I've run in many different countries and on three different continents.  I have a whole room with a wall covered in race bibs, finishing medals, awards, plaques, motivational quotes, and trophies.  I've won a lot of races and lost even more.  Every day I lace up the shoes again, take a deep breath, and go.  The first few steps are always the toughest, and the last few always the most gratifying.  Some days the legs burn, the stomach churns, and the running sucks.  But that's life.

I actually enjoy sharing my passion of running with others oftentimes more than I enjoy my own running.  Watching those 4th graders push their mile times down, sweat out, and push the boundaries of their own limitations is awe-inspiring.  They learn that pain can be okay and that limits need to be tested.  But that's life.

Competing against and getting beaten by former athletes I coached is oftentimes a bear, but that's life.  Running with former athletes and racing with them is emotionally rewarding, and that's life.  I have circles of friends, but my running friends have accepted me in the worst of times.  We've sweated out our deepest secrets, pounded out our frustrations, and hugged through sweat. snot, and tears.  But that's life.

I've run through an eating disorder, on my wedding day, through three pregnancies, the loss of a child, the loss of my father, and nearly every day over the last 15 years.  I've run through snow, lightning, rain, wind, heat, and hail.  But that's life.

When I push the boys in the stroller I stop the run to accommodate potty breaks, throwing rocks into the river, and picking blackberries.  Sometimes the boys get out and run along side me.  My runs are slower but much more meaningful.  But that's life.

I took a friend I have been encouraging in her running, up to get fitted for a new pair of running shoes.  As she was on the treadmill having her gait analyzed, the handsome young man (national record holder of some trail race) asked her, "Are you training for any races coming up?"  She replied, "Yes.  .  .  Life!".

Two words, so simple, so true.  We're all just training for life, in our own way, in our own time.  It's our race to run.  The best race we'll ever enter and the longest journey of all.  But that's life.

Summer, summer, summer!

A gift from a student!

Some jobs in life come with financial perks and/or annual bonuses.  While the perks of teaching are not financially enticing, they are most certainly gratifying.  Besides having summers off (read unemployed), we are inundated with compliments daily.  My love language is written word and I have saved EVERY single card, note, and/or illegibly drawn on crumpled tissue I have ever received.  I have almost a full file drawer of these notes in my classroom.  At the end of the school year I could care less about the gift cards and more about what the parents and kids wrote to me.  Don't get me wrong, the gift cards are certainly appreciated, but the message is meaningful.  On the last day of school this year, a parent with whom I certainly went round and round, actually stood in front of the room of nine and ten year olds and gave a tear-driven speech outlining all of my fine attributes and all that I had done for his son.  You could have knocked me over with a feather.

This year my favorite gift was most certainly intangible and I didn't receive it until a week after school got out.  I stopped in to sign some paperwork at another school site today and the mother of one of my students works there.  As I was leaving she called out to me and let me know that her son named his 4-H fair project Heifer after me.  At first I was a bit stunned and then I asked if the name was "Mrs. Isbell", or "Joy".  She said he chose the more informal approach because he "loved me, and he would love that Heifer".  Choking back tears, I got in my car and drove away thinking to myself that I might possibly be the luckiest girl in the world.  Sure, I don't get $10,000 bonuses, but those posers most certainly do not have livestock being loved in their name.

This family of four is a week into summer and so far our list of accomplishments is quite high:
1) 3,000 pumpkins transplanted from the greenhouse into the pumpkin patch.
2) Afternoon of swimming and a BBQ at Bradley's parents' home.
3) Afternoon of swimming, bug collecting, and trying to light things on fire with magnifying glasses on the Scott River.  (Thanks Papa Hilton, I guess that's how they do things in the South :) )
4) Mom is 2/3 of the way done with two different admin credential classes.  Which means that the boys have been without Mom for three weekends while she has been in class.
5) So far a tally of six different squirt gun purchases.
6) One box of popsicles eaten.
7) One propane BBQ canister drained.
8) We got rid of DirecTV and now only watch things off of our Apple TV.
9) Two little boys working their way from farmer's tans to muscle man tans.
10) Double digit miles logged in warm outside air with the Double Bob.
11) THOUSANDS of extra kilowatt hours banked.

As I go back to school this summer, I can't express enough gratitude towards my husband and my boys.  Bradley has been so supportive while I drive 4+ hours each weekend and he is on single-parent duty over night, or while I finish papers or reading and he keeps the boys relatively quiet.  I know it will be for the best and I am so excited about what I am learning.  But the question that begs to be answered is: How many principals get a namesake Heifer?  My guess is not too many, but there's first time for everything.

Happy Mother's Day. . .

The universe has tested me this week.  Last week's blogpost came from a place of centering and pure thought.  The morning after the post, the picture below appeared on FB.  The picture is truly amazing because it captures so many emotions after Carter was done riding the sheep.  A sheep that he himself begged to ride.  A sheep that Bradley carefully placed him on.  A sheep that he hung onto for dear life, was bucked off of, lay down in the dirt for a few seconds, and then raised up into his dad's arms.  Of course there were tears, but following the tears was sheer pride.

The old adage is that "a picture is worth a thousand words".  Some random person on FB began posting really negative things about the picture.  His rants attacked our son and our parenting.  Because I am a faithful rule follower and someone who has good sense, I did not return any of his posts because I was at work.  During this time, it was really hard for me to go back to the place I was in when I published the blog the night before.  A place of living in the moment, of realizing what was important.  Instead, this "poor sap" as someone referred to him, received several responses that were equally, if not more harshly written than his own untruthful claims.  An entire online community rallied behind the photograph, not because they knew us, but because they understood what the picture represented.  If we constantly allow our youth to thrive in a society where everyone earns the trophy, and no tears are allowed, what will happen when the real world comes knocking.  If we don't allow our children to face things willingly, that they might be scared of, then they will most likely not further attempt things they might fail at.  Human instinct is a wonderful thing, and to protect our intuition from failure or fear might suffice in the moment, but repeatedly will do more harm than good.

Already feeling like "mother of the year" because of the negative things written by Mr. Mande, (whoever he is), the week continued to get worse.  I must admit, that although this online community gave us great support, I did indeed question my parenting skills.  Was I wrong to allow him to mutton bust?  Did I subject him to "irreparable ramifications"?  I think Carter sensed my doubts intuitively because he proceeded to throw the most embarrassing fit in Karate Class on Tuesday that I have ever witnessed from ANY CHILD.  I have never before felt so out of control of a situation as I did in that little room on Tuesday evening.  I was just hoping it wouldn't get posted on FB, lest this Mr. Mande character get ahold of the evidence.  After repeated attempts to calm him down about his fears of me leaving him (?), it was obvious that we just needed to leave.  The walls of my mothering instincts crumbled as I drove home to screams of terror and "I don't love you anymore Mommy!".  Who was this child?  Was I being pranked?  The universe was surely testing me, only 48 hours since my "deep" post.  Yes, live in the moment, remember what is important, raising boys who will be. .  .

I am not one of "those mothers".  I don't force him to do Karate, and I most certainly did not make him mutton bust.  However, I will NOT allow the disrespect he showed that evening to continue.  Needless to say, after his piggy bank was emptied, and he has gone without TV and an iPad for a week (and no special chocolate milk - this was his dad), we don't think it will be happening again.  Just to be sure, we are ALL going to karate tomorrow evening.

Following the FB rant, and Carter's fit, I was a bit unsure of him going onstage to perform in a dance show on Saturday night.  I know, I know, what you're thinking.  .  .  "Rodeo, karate, dance, she IS that mom!!",  I'm NOT.  His unpredictable behavior at karate left me reeling inside, fearful of what he might do in front of 200 people on stage.  I held my breath as he entered, and then began crying.  He OWNED that stage.  Stole the show.  I was one proud momma.

Ironically enough, this entire week Miles has been an angel.  Normally, he is the one who gives us trouble.  Not in the last seven days.  He almost seems to be relishing in his brother's poor choices.

One week after I thought I had an epiphany worthy of sainthood and good deeds, I finish this post on Mother's Day.  A day to relish in the fact that I am the mother to two of the most amazing young men, and another little boy in heaven.  I told Bradley that I wanted a run, a Bloody Mary, and that I did NOT want to cook or clean anything today.  The run was amazing and I shared it with a good friend.  The Blood Mary turned into two Mimosas at Bob's Ranch House for brunch, and dinner was prepared by my boys and cleaned up by Bradley.  I am so blessed that I was able to spend half of the day with my own amazing mother.  We are so different, but I owe so much of my personality to her.  My dad would always tell me that "the two of you butt heads, because you are so alike".  I see it now more and more.  My boys gave me lots of love, and my mom decided that this mother's day was the right time to present me with some breast enhancers.  Nothing says "Happy Mother's Day" like your 67 year old mother recognizing that your children have sucked the life right out of you.  In this week, in more ways that one.  I love you Mom!

Solar Cowboys

"Slow down you're doing fine 
You can't be everything you want to be 
Before your time." 
--Billy Joel

Rush to get dressed, speed to work, hurry through to prepare for STAR testing, hustle to Karate, quickly eat dinner, bath, bed, housework, bookwork, mow the lawn, check the things off of the list.  .  .  Life is just too fast.  Where have the last years gone?  I know that looking back it won't matter if the lawn was mowed, if the project was completed on time, or if the floor was as clean as it was yesterday.  What will matter is that we have raised sons who appreciate the value of hard work, but know the importance of taking care of themselves.  That slowing down is not a sign of weakness, but of strength in the hopes of building a stronger self.  What will matter is that my sons will have memories of a mom who puts everything down for the slightest need, but who has given them the tools to be self-sufficient.  What will matter is that they will see their father's work ethic, but relish in his ability to relax with them. Yes, we want to be successful, to do, to grow, to fulfill, but life changes in a split second.  The endless checklists we have conquered, do not matter in a split second mistake.  Life is precious, life is good, life needs to be conquered with an awareness and appreciation of the moment.

Miles will only want to "snuggle" so many times, and Carter will only want to retell the same story for so long.  I know we are good parents, but today we were reminded of the preciousness of life and the things that are truly important.  My dad would ALWAYS remind us of all we had done, and reinforce the need for relaxation and taking things in stride.  "Look at all you have done," - I can hear it still.   

The solar project is coming to completion and I am so proud of Bradley for his ability to complete such a huge task.  From the planning, to the paperwork, budgeting, purchasing, permitting, constructing, wiring, it has been a huge task.  Within the next week and a half, we hope to be producing all of our own power.  

Today was the rodeo.  Both boys were in a "driving" float for Dotty's.  They all got to ride or drive in their own kid cars.  Carter drove the John Deere Gator, while Finn or Wyatt sat shotgun, and Miles held on for dear life in the dumpbed.  I don't know why I went for a run this morning, because I got quite the workout after Bradley showed them the difference between first and second gear.  The float won 1st place and all of the kids had a lot of fun.  

For the second year, Carter decided that he wanted to bust a mutton.  This year's ride was about a second longer, but equally exciting.  Don't worry about the end of the video, he just has a delayed reaction in getting up.  After some snowcones, cheesy fries, and tamables (wait is this the fair or the rodeo) it was time for a nap during an afternoon thunderstorm.  

Here's to a productive, mindful, and appreciative outlook to the week ahead.  

Birthday Week Recap

Between the stomach flu, Miles' 2nd birthday party, and the 1st anniversary of dad's death, I think our family has gone through every physical and mental emotion possible in the past week.

Start last weekend the stomach flu invaded our home.  By Wednesday morning, Miles was vomiting all over me and I had to call in a sub.  Mid-day Wednesday I was vomiting all over Miles.  Not really, I made it to the toilet, but it was a close call.  Wednesday evening Bradley was .  .  .  you get the picture. Without my mom, I think our kids would have gone into protective services on Thursday which was actually Miles' 2nd birthday.  We were so sick, it was all we could do to open an eyelid to make sure that Mickey Mouse Clubhouse was still playing and that both children were accounted for.  Luckily my mom was able to take Carter to music class for a bit and to her house for a couple of hours.  Just when we though it couldn't get any worse I went to get some water from the sink to sanitize another vomit pile and I realized we had NO water.  Bradley fought off chills and nausea all day to help the pump people figure out why our pump was not working.  LOOOONNNG story short, he sunk a t-post into an upper line of conduit and caused an electrical problem.

By Friday we were all at work and I was only rollling at about 70%.  I told my students my troubles that morning and every mistake I made they replied, "It's okay Mrs. Isbell, 70%!"  I LOVE MY JOB!
Believe it or not, me we made it to the big party on Saturday.  I had advertised a HUGE bubble party and by golly I had to pull it off.  By the grace of Costco, my mom, my mother-in-law, my sister, and Andrew, we made it happen.  We hosted roughly 40-50 people on a beautiful sunny day in the back lawn.  Bradley manned the grill and I manned the bubbles.  The kids had a really great time and Miles seemed to enjoy having all of his friends over at his house.

After a nap and some clean-up we headed over to the 2nd birthday party of the weekend.  Bradley stayed behind to finish the clean-up and it's a good think he did because our burn pile spontaneously combusted into flames.  Ironically enough, my dad a few problems with out of control fires and I honestly think he might have had something to do with this.

Sunday morning came and all of us decided to start the morning with a hike.  None of us wanted to sit around on the anniversary of Dad's death feeling sorry for ourselves, so we decided to go on a hike behind the house to a cell-phone tower.  The hike was really beautiful and we could see the entire Scott Valley, as well as Mt. Shasta and the Marble Mountains.  However, as I was packing Carter part of the way and Bradley was packing Miles, we realized that there was no way in hell dad would ever have gone on the hike.  He would have insisted on just watching the boys at home while we all hiked.

In order to go full circle on this post, I will report that my sister left tonight after vomiting several times. Despite our three full bleach sanitization efforts on the house in the past week, she caught something.  We all tried to eat a nice meal, have a few shots of tequila, and call it a night, but poor Ness was a bit sick.

"My momma said, ' There'd be days like this' ".

Last but not least, here is Miles' 2nd b-day interview:

What is your name?

Miles

Fave Food?

Cereal and Mac and Cheese

Color?

Yellow

Who is your brother?

He goes to Nene's, Carter Bear

Friends?

Clara, Owen, Nene

TV?

Mickey Mouse Clubhouse

Outside?

Soccer ball

Grow up?

Cowboy, shovel

Spring, Solar, Scary Bunnies, Sleep, and Sweet Moves

Spring is here and that means that the boys are playing outside!   As usual in the Isbell home, we have a new project.  Wait for it.  .  .  A sixty panel solar system, being installed by my handsome husband.  What does that mean for the boys?  About a 1/4 mile of muddy trench to disappear into and play in.  What does that mean for the mama?  Lots, and lots, and lots of Resolve (not the mental kind).  The trench is almost finished, but next comes the huge erector set piece and I can just envision the loss of screws in the upper field from the little helpers.

Since my last post, both the leprechauns and the Easter Bunny have visited the home.  The Leprechaun left green glittered pee in the toilet, and green foot prints on the seat.

The Easter Bunny left some less disgusting and more edible items.  However, he/she did not look at the weather forecast and all of the hidden eggs ended up with soggy candy and a loss of dye.

A couple of days prior to Easter I took the boys up to Ashland because the Easter Bunny was at Paddington Station, and there was also cookie decorating for the kids.  I left for the trip with only the expectation that Miles would destroy his polo with icing, and I therefore needed to make sure I had a backup for Easter Sunday.  As we made our way towards the Bunny, Miles spotted it from the back and he practically leapt from my arms and into a running gait straight towards the rabbit.  However, sheer joy turned to terror when the bunny waved at Miles.  I don't think Miles knew the Bunny was mobile, but he wouldn't even look at the stuffed creature again.  Carter took the obligatory picture, which I have yet to receive, and we headed to decorate cookies.  The cookie pictures speak for themselves, and yes the shirt was destroyed.

As we left Oregon and headed home, Carter informed me that he saw the person behind the Bunny costume, and he didn't think the Easter Bunny was real.  Double score point, on my "Mom of the Year" award tally.  I left with good intentions, and returned with two epic fails:  Miles hated the Bunny, and Carter at the tender age of 4, no longer believed.

Deciding to try to address the religious side of the holiday (what a concept), we attended church in Callahan.  The church is over 100 years old, and feels like an old schoolhouse inside, complete with a wood-burning stove.  We met our good friends and their twin boys there.  The children's time was great, I brought little bags of jelly-beans for the kids, but when it came time for the sermon, all Miles wanted to do was practice swimming on the floor, blazer and all.  On top of his normally loud demeanor, it was a bit of a disaster.  The good news is that the average age of the church goer there was 67, there was only one other "kid" who is in the 5th grade, and therefore they thought the boys were "so well-behaved" and "wonderful".   Wow, I got a workout, Miles pulled off the greatest scam, and then to top it all off they got to have ANOTHER EASTER EGG HUNT!

Church was followed by a wonderful meal at Bradley's mom's house.  She decorates to a tee, and makes all holidays so magical.  She even hand-appliqued the center pieces this year.  The boys had ANOTHER EGG HUNT, and we went home.  The even better news is that after three egg hunts, and numerous Easter gifts, we can now afford a good down payment on their first semester at college.

The boys had their good buddies Wyatt and Finn over for everyone's first "away from relatives" sleep-over.  What a blast!  Spiderman Mac and Cheese, movies, popcorn, and a huge air mattress made for a wonderful night.  Speaking of sleep, both Carter and Miles request nightly to sleep together.  Even though they each have their own bed and their own room, they seem so comforted by each other.  Despite the bickering and yelling, they really do love each other.

To cap off this spring issue: Carter convinced Grandma Cora that he has been taking Karate lessons.  Truth be told, his moves are pretty good, but he has no one to thank but Netflix and the constant streaming of PowerRanger movies.  I guess I should just be thankful none of the moves were used on the Easter Bunny or in church.

Happy Birthday Carter!

Whew, the birthday weekend is coming to a close.  You really score the jackpot when your kid's birthday falls on a weekend day.  Everything - done, bam - ONE DAY.  This year, we were close.  His birthday fell on a Friday.  That meant the actual birthday was still a workday, but we needed to make it special.  Therefore, the excitement of the party then led up to Saturday.  Thus, Sunday is spent fully recuperating, putting toys away, making thank-you cards, birthday books, etc.

Everything would have gone a lot smoother if I hadn't decided to schedule my laser eye correction surgery two days prior to his birthday.  I didn't even think about the possibility of not being able to see, with still over forty cake-pops needing decoration.  Luckily, the blindness only lasted about ten seconds, and the irritation was over by the next day, resulting in completion of cake pops prior to deadline.

We've made it a tradition to take the boys to breakfast at Bob's Ranch House every year.  My dad actually started this tradition, and it was a bit sad this year to not have him there.  After the usual number six for both boys, my mom took them to Eileen's, and he enjoyed cake pops (delivered the night before by yours truly) with his buddies.  After a LONG day at work, I picked him up and took him to Mema's, where he had his customary cake with cousins.  I then took him home where his Auntie Nessie was waiting for him after making the long jaunt from Portland.  She entertained while I made the elaborate celebratory 4 year old dinner of Spiderman Mac and Cheese with hot-dogs.  No judgement here, my quota of creative cooking for the week went into the cake pops.

It was early to bed and early to rise.  We left the house at 8:30 with two kids, cake pops, skiis, waters, duffels of clothing, and goodie bags for the party goers.  Carter and Bradley got a run in, while I set-up, drank a Bloody Mary (this is the birthday gift to all mothers), and took in the view.  The snow was really terrible, what there was of it, but it was a beautiful day.  Soon, many of his buddies showed up, ate pizza, sang to Carter, devoured cake-pops, he opened presents, and then everyone was off to hit the slopes.  Some took lessons, some played on the bunny hill, and some even took a few runs on Douglas.  It was an awesome day.  However, no day of family fun would be complete without a little argument, and that was between Bradley and I over a miscommunication on the meet-up on a run.  Hindsight it was really stupid, but I think a week of four-year old birthday celebration will bring that upon any loving couple.  (And if you're a parent who has NEVER gone through a birthday party without an argument with your significant other over something really insignificant, you're full of it.)

When the kids got tired we just pumped them up with more glucose filled cake-pops and sent them back out.  By four pm (how ironic), it was time to go.  As my good friend and mother of twins so wisely stated, when I inquired about one more possible run "No, you want to end it on a good note".

After a nice dinner in Mt. Shasta, we were home before 7pm, and both boys went straight to bed without complaint or sound.  However, they woke up this morning at 5:55.  They're at the tail end of a nap now, one that I probably should have partaken in, but then who would have downloaded the photos, made the thank-yous, made the birthday book, updated the blog, and paid the bills?  That's right, I damn straight earned that Bloody Mary yesterday.  Happy Birthday Carter!  We love you to the moon and back, but maybe next year your birthday will fall on a Saturday!