tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8729558081558592362024-02-06T18:34:24.753-08:00Out the ShootSara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-72479909814226295672010-03-13T17:22:00.000-08:002010-03-25T14:55:18.719-07:00SPRING!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9vOSdYOsdB7MoEYxBQAFzNHGsFDq8rHEbV1Ja0JsP8DyRxzy2Akl3nwAsitcy1AxPU0ezUu5YL8HHds0EXDvS-2aywEQSAH_TM6_hw0KOQIwIGYVfIhaHscP5k_6xoTfHOFuBF3gaE6w/s1600/DSCN0824.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9vOSdYOsdB7MoEYxBQAFzNHGsFDq8rHEbV1Ja0JsP8DyRxzy2Akl3nwAsitcy1AxPU0ezUu5YL8HHds0EXDvS-2aywEQSAH_TM6_hw0KOQIwIGYVfIhaHscP5k_6xoTfHOFuBF3gaE6w/s320/DSCN0824.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452693272904491314" /></a><br />I recently took the above picture in my front yard and I love looking at it. I cannot remember a year when I was as ready for spring as I am this year. Partly b/c it is my favorite time of year and partly because winter was not kind to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Isbell</span> family. Although the snow was fun, I now understand why my mother always sounded a little stressed when she would tell us that a cold front was coming in. Between the high electric bills and the doctors bills, I see winter in a whole new light. Don't get me wrong ....I LOVED THE SNOW!!!! However, this year the winter also came with 1 hospital stay, 2 battles against <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pneumonia</span>, 7 cases of the stomach bug, 5 child chest x-rays, 14 finger pricks for blood (on a child's finger), 4 shots in the bottom (poor Elizabeth), 1 IV, 4 visits to the care now, 1 75$ prescription that had to be picked up at a special compounding pharmacy and more laundry than one women ever keep up with. I am tired just typing it. No wonder I haven't updated my blog in so long. <div><br /></div><div>As my mother says, "this too shall pass" and it has. Today I took the above picture because it makes me so happy. I am constantly amazed how the smallest things can bring such joy. Today my children played outside for hours. Today my husband cooked an amazing meal on the grill. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you God for knowing that we needed the seasons to change. Thank you for creating such beauty. Thank you for healing and doctors and medicine. </div>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-13144336933572755142010-03-13T15:49:00.000-08:002010-03-13T16:14:30.020-08:00Snow Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQpTlNwcQtMUGLM_yPRuVzDFMDizub31Pwz0PsYqCg8iCIyfFdmDuTjoOj0QliJhly7kD4ynijKlID3Gk7Kbb_ZFLgaoklT5QJrn1XMRdSg49JZGl-EH0fc_cR5U0_XZEWu_9FyHH3gQ/s1600-h/DSCN0811.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQpTlNwcQtMUGLM_yPRuVzDFMDizub31Pwz0PsYqCg8iCIyfFdmDuTjoOj0QliJhly7kD4ynijKlID3Gk7Kbb_ZFLgaoklT5QJrn1XMRdSg49JZGl-EH0fc_cR5U0_XZEWu_9FyHH3gQ/s320/DSCN0811.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448275719190862018" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB2QAnRuWJ4WIvV9-kWwnpMr-rmpKFbWJibkmM6JPbeCR9JYGRqakTkQWdKHZb5e4S3FmeDxJU5YdFknGZ-3uSQjgtX_nqZxxT-3lBOByPt6wMGu3p7iOQa5Xz_RHC7FN2kx3eWcE1868/s1600-h/DSCN0814.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB2QAnRuWJ4WIvV9-kWwnpMr-rmpKFbWJibkmM6JPbeCR9JYGRqakTkQWdKHZb5e4S3FmeDxJU5YdFknGZ-3uSQjgtX_nqZxxT-3lBOByPt6wMGu3p7iOQa5Xz_RHC7FN2kx3eWcE1868/s320/DSCN0814.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448275710406894466" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWE_Y0ysmS0uHlZmpYCYIGmDyHTdFpTv12O-TwNKSWjkuwlb3w440bciqrf4TFCEP5nfMREe1sXp2oaMv_4HH0JloW0dmCCx8SrS4fWuDGJQPKVIJgrPQGlYD28Hqckau8kgiva9SjAQs/s1600-h/DSCN0813.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWE_Y0ysmS0uHlZmpYCYIGmDyHTdFpTv12O-TwNKSWjkuwlb3w440bciqrf4TFCEP5nfMREe1sXp2oaMv_4HH0JloW0dmCCx8SrS4fWuDGJQPKVIJgrPQGlYD28Hqckau8kgiva9SjAQs/s320/DSCN0813.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448275702357800162" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3JLMcCm-JQut1xySzndJx09WD1-W-lscwuYDTZNn19lCBW9MeXJFrth_F6pxHK82R2kdAVROSMV2AXAwe1VB7-zSOPPqE0hc3lapdlGXmbjhgBdqkGHOzGQBJMnWJ6luyHO8wuK5Oajk/s1600-h/DSCN0810.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3JLMcCm-JQut1xySzndJx09WD1-W-lscwuYDTZNn19lCBW9MeXJFrth_F6pxHK82R2kdAVROSMV2AXAwe1VB7-zSOPPqE0hc3lapdlGXmbjhgBdqkGHOzGQBJMnWJ6luyHO8wuK5Oajk/s320/DSCN0810.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448275692098723170" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZzC6hK14V1mw2Wbo9Kk4kbVTC9CkxDrTiQAbhM4rNpUOehiSLa5hFGtTAhfdH1rqbqgiGbFtJMVVRqTzOfs9ptL7JblGtIYtgqXOdAqenn5sVQYmOjUlr3eH88uCisYxTbf39r2TpzC4/s1600-h/DSCN0809.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZzC6hK14V1mw2Wbo9Kk4kbVTC9CkxDrTiQAbhM4rNpUOehiSLa5hFGtTAhfdH1rqbqgiGbFtJMVVRqTzOfs9ptL7JblGtIYtgqXOdAqenn5sVQYmOjUlr3eH88uCisYxTbf39r2TpzC4/s320/DSCN0809.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448275684839527618" /></a><br />I love it when life slows down for a minute and allows for some unexpected fun. I love the spontaneous memories you make with your kids on days like these. I knew the minute I looked out my window that morning it was going to be a great day!Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-54327207077053379222009-10-28T18:50:00.000-07:002009-10-28T20:03:31.112-07:00Back to School<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwkPbHkpaeobMz1eF5YPd9QKK6Q2I1GZg2aEWhgQutQ9QKLYYFr-qzVlLnRq_CcS09JmfugIXxAmZMzL2wchyphenhyphenHzxBNDXLhrYmf5pmSLyogJ17c_a3doP4a9ZhL4kELI9jCnkmwRRrvzHU/s1600-h/1st+Day+of+School+008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397847336452192370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwkPbHkpaeobMz1eF5YPd9QKK6Q2I1GZg2aEWhgQutQ9QKLYYFr-qzVlLnRq_CcS09JmfugIXxAmZMzL2wchyphenhyphenHzxBNDXLhrYmf5pmSLyogJ17c_a3doP4a9ZhL4kELI9jCnkmwRRrvzHU/s320/1st+Day+of+School+008.jpg" border="0" /></a> Tucker and Elizabeth ready to go!<br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwynVuAA532smUH_oL28fG89OwWETeChPl8-7WL7cglID9MrIB3DXj0_wrEqujJNoMKpYwAqJgSRQWkWxkmicCTaZJq6_9U2wqFLbGyntOEEDpmz8c0WeYvgduscgCJuVmf5M3cxk9gw/s1600-h/Under+the+Sea+018.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397844482809053570" style="WIDTH: 313px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 219px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwynVuAA532smUH_oL28fG89OwWETeChPl8-7WL7cglID9MrIB3DXj0_wrEqujJNoMKpYwAqJgSRQWkWxkmicCTaZJq6_9U2wqFLbGyntOEEDpmz8c0WeYvgduscgCJuVmf5M3cxk9gw/s320/Under+the+Sea+018.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>Tucker and Mrs. Melton at the school field trip.<br /></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAd2JvagBtR2v1rQCjl-3Lk45Mh673JzcdlVlXh9wqBcFuWOATj8JUHtCIrlWI8HUBlr-FPI_d5V8xfhZXGH7FQbVnsgSTJ4zgeMy2fsijno4wjf1rdni8MrBO0dvyawVI8z3vkGbZwr4/s1600-h/1st+Day+of+School+025.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397844476679626306" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAd2JvagBtR2v1rQCjl-3Lk45Mh673JzcdlVlXh9wqBcFuWOATj8JUHtCIrlWI8HUBlr-FPI_d5V8xfhZXGH7FQbVnsgSTJ4zgeMy2fsijno4wjf1rdni8MrBO0dvyawVI8z3vkGbZwr4/s320/1st+Day+of+School+025.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><br /><div>Elizabeth in front of her classroom. She is in the Rainbow class.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL68ISyo7vne8y77hhQRQ_4Ogr0r1U2_8_0v4YHq58dG0Kk-QzJylCzV1h3xU1sENm_DWADGSwjbitUA02Yus3MqSDUSKO1S7lmZeqvW0qtYaYYhqzz4eo3-_aG77ams4XOw9PwJRBnI8/s1600-h/1st+Day+of+School+030.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397844470623463266" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL68ISyo7vne8y77hhQRQ_4Ogr0r1U2_8_0v4YHq58dG0Kk-QzJylCzV1h3xU1sENm_DWADGSwjbitUA02Yus3MqSDUSKO1S7lmZeqvW0qtYaYYhqzz4eo3-_aG77ams4XOw9PwJRBnI8/s320/1st+Day+of+School+030.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><br /><div>Tucker at his table on the first day of school.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij3LNZY4xPsUFZozkcUTDsfqSW89P2CBOxyhuqUTxy5rSWF0yO0HfhXgAfuXkNbzF71MrZb38SI6WKMByx-jqnasDT6gy7XG_NtlMr_yCFx8xloaRjTUitUBPR8neQOH_if9prpjhyAaY/s1600-h/1st+Day+of+School+018.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397844466674849762" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij3LNZY4xPsUFZozkcUTDsfqSW89P2CBOxyhuqUTxy5rSWF0yO0HfhXgAfuXkNbzF71MrZb38SI6WKMByx-jqnasDT6gy7XG_NtlMr_yCFx8xloaRjTUitUBPR8neQOH_if9prpjhyAaY/s320/1st+Day+of+School+018.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Tucker and Elizabeth on the first day of school. </div><br /><br /><div><br />School this year is well underway and somehow I have not had much time to reflect on how much I love what this school year has brought to our lives.<br /><br /></div><div><div>Tucker is loving Kindergarten and is learning so much so fast that I can hardly keep up. He is reading everything he can find. The labels on the food at the grocery store, every street sign, the words that come across the TV when I am trying to watch the news, my grocery list, my to do list and of course the readers he is reading for school. As one could imagine, this has put some parts of my life in slow motion. It is really hard to "run" into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Wal</span>-mart for pesto sauce when there are SO MANY WORDS in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Wal</span>-mart! Kindergarten has also brought Mrs. Melton into our lives. Mrs. Melton is Tucker's kindergarten teacher and God's personal gift to me! She has inspired Tucker and he loves being in her classroom. She truly loves children and it shows. </div><br /><div>Elizabeth is loving preschool this year. She proudly waltzes right into her classroom and takes over. She is extremely well behaved at school and saves all of her less than attractive moods for home:) She loves her teachers and everything about being there. Her first question every day is, "do I get to go to school today?" and her second question is "can I have cereal for breakfast?" She has been seen on the playground giving a few "directives" and she is often so busy there that she can't possibly get her lunch eaten. She usually asks for her chocolate snack right when she gets in the car at 2:30. Then I always remind her that we won't be having a chocolate snack, to which she always replies, "oh, I forgot."</div><br /><div>This school year has also put me back in the classroom! I am teaching preschool P.E. two mornings a week and I love it. It took me a few weeks to get used to my busier schedule and having to be out the door every morning, but now it is smooth sailing. I love being there at the school and getting to do things like watch the kids while they are on playground and visit with their teachers in the hall. This school year is the perfect reminder that God's grace provides more than we could ever deserve. I am daily aware that He has provided me the perfect job at the perfect time. I even get to teach both of my kids every Wednesday. Elizabeth and I go to school on Wed./Fri. and those days are so much fun. It is rare that a person gets to work in a place where the boss understands that you are a mom first and where family responsibilities are given the highest priorities. Thank you God for your unfailing devotion to me and the little details in my life!</div><div></div><div>Fielder Road ECC still gives me this "at home" warm feeling when I am there. What a wonderful beginning to Tucker and Elizabeth's education. I am confident they will have a great year. </div></div>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-91438710507514642712009-09-22T18:59:00.000-07:002009-09-26T07:16:58.394-07:00100 New RecipesI recently read a book in which a girl was trying to complete a "to do" list by a certain birthday. (This is a very simplified version of the novel). The novel was not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">necessarily</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Pulitzer</span>, I wouldn't even say that it was well written. However, I have not been able to get it out of my mind.<br /><br /><br />Sometimes I feel like I am surviving each day instead of living each day. The book inspired me to set goals and reach towards many of the things I "have always wanted to do." I also want my children to see that I can set a goal and reach it. I have always wanted to be a great cook and I am going to start reaching that goal by 1.) practicing and 2.) trying lots of new things. So here it goes....<br /><br /><br />One of the things on my "list" is to try 100 new recipes before my next birthday. I am so excited about this new goal. I love cooking, baking, and just being in the kitchen. I have always wanted to be a good cook and although I have mastered a few recipes (previously mentioned chocolate chip cookies) I would have to admit that my cooking is limited to a few tried and true dishes that I am often tired of making. I have always thought that deciding what to cook was as difficult as actually doing the cooking.<br /><br />I have already started and I am loving it!Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-9092358584776711112009-08-21T19:55:00.000-07:002009-08-21T20:36:58.808-07:00My Mushy Brain<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Bgc60l76t9bS4MuE4fduDRiTaMmN936qzz9Oq96Gwwz0V2B1_EvXJDDb4oew7jpaXm0kgTtQMloLBP7J5PNN3tybUOe5LtwNaBr9UGOuTjmG-ELzD5K88fRfIBpLK4nZnGR_esoLmEA/s1600-h/DSCN0287%5B1%5D"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372626375335759890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Bgc60l76t9bS4MuE4fduDRiTaMmN936qzz9Oq96Gwwz0V2B1_EvXJDDb4oew7jpaXm0kgTtQMloLBP7J5PNN3tybUOe5LtwNaBr9UGOuTjmG-ELzD5K88fRfIBpLK4nZnGR_esoLmEA/s320/DSCN0287%5B1%5D" border="0" /></a> The other day the kids and I went up to the Farmer's office to take him a few things and visit him while he was working. He was putting in a few extra hours over the weekend to get ready for teacher in-service and the new school year. The kids and I were so excited to go that we baked cookies for all of the staff putting in extra hours along side him. We arrived just after nap time with a tray of "fresh out of the oven" cookies.<br /><br /><div>As I looked around and he showed me many of things he had been working on, I was overwhelmed by all of the creative ideas and interesting projects going on around me. I loved everything he did in preparation for the teacher training and was so impressed by all that progress the schools have made under his leadership. One of his co-workers sat down with us for a few minutes and she shared some creative ideas she had been working on and we all began to brainstorm together....and in that moment I realized how far removed I am from the career I once had. The room was getting larger and I was getting smaller. She thanked me for the cookies and I wanted to say, "That's not all I do you know....I went to mall yesterday and got three new outfits for Elizabeth for under 20$". I might have also added, "I did extensive research on getting the best nap mat for your money and I believe I purchased the very best one.." </div><div><br /></div><div>My brain felt mushy and my resume bleak.....don't get me wrong....I love being a "stay at home mom" and I am entirely grateful for the last five years with my children. I just felt so disconnected to this whole other part of me. I have been out of the work place entirely for the past three years and I can't help but wonder if my mind will be ready when it is time to go back. Right now I spend much of my time settling an argument between two preschool children over who can jump the farthest. I knew those arguments were trying my patience, but are they also stunting my intellectual growth?<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I called my mom on the way home to ask if she considered me to be intelligent and to make sure that some of the accomplishments I was remembering from my past really did happen. She assured me that all was well and I would be right back in the career world when the time was right, but for now.....</div><div></div><div>I can tell you that most people who have eaten my chocolate chip cookies swear they are the best they have ever had.</div><div></div>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-54033665083066258542009-07-21T10:00:00.001-07:002009-07-21T10:07:17.527-07:00Camping Pictures<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FyNlUGJxHYdyot9Io4ZVdiH5QLxYmhYWLe6DVzl6yyZym41RDAPArSS6FCVKE7ucVGFbgiIM9vcy33-1iPX8BXXzDCzWwi0yyoREVXz2u7tW9yl2FF3UyfIK5yN2xdBTXb7FvxGjXuc/s1600-h/Camping+%26+Fishing+042.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360961069560568786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FyNlUGJxHYdyot9Io4ZVdiH5QLxYmhYWLe6DVzl6yyZym41RDAPArSS6FCVKE7ucVGFbgiIM9vcy33-1iPX8BXXzDCzWwi0yyoREVXz2u7tW9yl2FF3UyfIK5yN2xdBTXb7FvxGjXuc/s320/Camping+%26+Fishing+042.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnevIzl7yd4S-FIPFEEmBZfx_3Zhlddv3CVqfNZ4jFdYogNnOhyphenhyphenllRC3xAQqhOfP7CgKw40JzN6g7cvUDUz6qBCzgEzL9MV5MlAVmHnRPNY5ei2L6BSucupqLWSZurFoXrIXTRvAOC1bc/s1600-h/Camping+%26+Fishing+035.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360961062945454770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnevIzl7yd4S-FIPFEEmBZfx_3Zhlddv3CVqfNZ4jFdYogNnOhyphenhyphenllRC3xAQqhOfP7CgKw40JzN6g7cvUDUz6qBCzgEzL9MV5MlAVmHnRPNY5ei2L6BSucupqLWSZurFoXrIXTRvAOC1bc/s320/Camping+%26+Fishing+035.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HFsADiwtKWUqdyt3bies2oOMDb33nRT8SQMOYACgJi1XzW73hriaCfaIuD66YRsSBqODbfpffRs11r9YFmIATmG9pGsk_32I24nK_RixiPRbUc09PPkFdq4GXLfQHfuWJX-WafF1cxI/s1600-h/Camping+%26+Fishing+038.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360961057526992306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HFsADiwtKWUqdyt3bies2oOMDb33nRT8SQMOYACgJi1XzW73hriaCfaIuD66YRsSBqODbfpffRs11r9YFmIATmG9pGsk_32I24nK_RixiPRbUc09PPkFdq4GXLfQHfuWJX-WafF1cxI/s320/Camping+%26+Fishing+038.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjOsezOanX3jxvrHyDRIoOeH1qkipq7ICuL9gv5zYW4NMrve4QF_kRSXokK8238lFlBOY5BECY-4FOWvYnfDkJelHXv1tmjO9Xcsm0RdGOaDpEIGxoXRek8bJTQ0-EWIWSKoG3xgKd64/s1600-h/Camping+%26+Fishing+017.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360961054228599826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjOsezOanX3jxvrHyDRIoOeH1qkipq7ICuL9gv5zYW4NMrve4QF_kRSXokK8238lFlBOY5BECY-4FOWvYnfDkJelHXv1tmjO9Xcsm0RdGOaDpEIGxoXRek8bJTQ0-EWIWSKoG3xgKd64/s320/Camping+%26+Fishing+017.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijMFhw2R0iF739_9mbfuWfwjPbfSu6z9gCUh_6AEzFGagi_wj9jK5PLJfkEYNsqt-7ouE2c5ZXADYZjWWG0VmQ-gREe23SetJ0y4F7rIIXXNh02m8rtVyJckPZHVRk-8o9f19fSWqoqK8/s1600-h/Camping+%26+Fishing+011.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360961042480545458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijMFhw2R0iF739_9mbfuWfwjPbfSu6z9gCUh_6AEzFGagi_wj9jK5PLJfkEYNsqt-7ouE2c5ZXADYZjWWG0VmQ-gREe23SetJ0y4F7rIIXXNh02m8rtVyJckPZHVRk-8o9f19fSWqoqK8/s320/Camping+%26+Fishing+011.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-53398087673311517062009-07-20T20:28:00.000-07:002009-07-21T10:00:37.687-07:00The Great OutdoorsWe decided to take the kids camping during James' vacation a couple of weeks ago. We had to squeeze this adventure in between baseball practice and celebrating James' birthday with his family. Fortunately for us we live really close to a lake and a state park so we could have easily jumped in the car at any moment and make the 5 minute drive home.<br /><br /><br />I have to admit I have never thought of camping as much of a vacation. From the outside looking in it seemed that camping involved a whole lot of work for just a little bit of fun. However, my kids really wanted to sleep in a tent and the farmer practically grew up in tent so I figured it was worth a shot.<br /><br />Much to my surpise I loved it! Yes, me, Sara Elizabeth Strader Isbell loved camping in a tent. We roasted marshmellows and made smores, we fished and caught one rope, we swam in the lake and we told lots of silly stories that kept us up much longer than we had intended. Don't get me wrong, it does involve a LARGE amount of creatures, most of which I never intended to see. However, it does NOT involve many other things.<br /><br />I have made a list:<br /><br />1. No cleaning bathrooms. State parks bathrooms are not bad and I was not responsible for cleaning them. (Thank you Kimberly for the tip about showering in swimsuits!)<br /><br />2. No cleaning the kitchen....James took his new portable grill and in by then end of the trip I had only washed one pot.<br /><br />3. No cleaning the floors. I just swept out the floor of the tent when I was done.<br /><br />4. No doing laundry....see # 1 - Swimsuits clean and ready for the next day.<br /><br />5. No bored children. They loved every minute of it.<br /><br />6. No television, phone calls or technology of any kind.<br /><br />7. No errands or going to five stores.<br /><br />8. No figuring out what to cook for dinner - James took care of the cooking!<br /><br />and my favorite...<br /><br />9. No interuption to family time!<br /><br />We had such a great time and are looking forward to doing it again...this time we will have a much larger lantern and more fans.<br /><br /><br />Ok - so it was luxury camping...electricity, running water, coffee in the morning....I am only so brave!Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-90527091167771870812009-06-08T19:17:00.000-07:002009-09-26T07:28:52.486-07:00Garage Sales, Disability, & EthicsI love garage sales. I love the whole idea of something that you do not want/need any more becoming someone else's newest treasure. I love meeting the local color and I love cleaning out my house and ridding it of clutter that is no longer useful. But most of all I love to bargain. The thrill of a little debate and coming away from the exchange feeling like you made the best possible deal. Secretly, I do not like to price any of the things that I put in my garage sale so that people will have to ask, "How much do you want for the star shaped chip and dip?" Thus the beginning of an entirely interesting conversation.<br /><br />This past weekend we had a garage sale and I spent all week in anticipation of the great event. On Friday, the kids made signs for their lemonade stand with the intention of making enough money to make it to the Dollar Tree to get a prize. By Saturday morning all persons involved were in my driveway ready to make a deal. The coffee was good and the smell of sticky bun was in the air (as well as all over my fingers).<br /><br />I must stop now to tell you that in all my excitement I did advertise on Craig's List in an overzealous way. The advertisement was so enticing that I had my driveway full of people by 6:45 am. Unfortunately we were not completely ready to go at that time and had stated that the garage sale would be open at 7:30am. James was still trying to get the old bunk beds down from Tucker's room and several other big items. Tucker and Elizabeth were helping with these items and it was a regular 3 ring circus. A man that came early was quite cranky because all of the things I advertised were not out yet. I could only offer a smile and some sticky bun as condolences, but he scolded me with a, "well then you shouldn't have advertised if you are not going to be ready!" He left. More sticky bun for me.<br /><br />We met several interesting people thourghout the morning....people who buy things that will never fit them, people who buy things that they know do not work, people who buy things that they will never use, and (my favorite) people who have no intention of buying anything but just really what to see what kind of used junk you have in your front yard.<br /><br />By Saturday afternoon we were hot tired and ready to quit for the day. Despite the fact that I totally enjoyed myself, most of the things that I had intended to sell were still right there in my driveway. We decided to open again on Sunday and see if we could get rid of most of this stuff.<br /><br />Sunday morning.... much of the initial excitement was gone and I dragged myself out of bed. No sticky bun.... no time to make coffee. However, Sunday turned out to be a much better day in terms of financial gain. Most of the big furniture sold and I was ready to haul the rest to goodwill when an older woman and her disability check hobbled up the drive. I was already packing up the unsold clothes and James was ready to take down the tables. She asked for a chair, a glass of water and some help looking through the pile of clothes that was at least 3 sizes too small for her. (She told me "she needed something to look forward to"). An hour and a half later we were loading up most of the things I had left into her car when she spotted the train table for sale. I had marked the train table kind of high b/c I was a little emotional about Tucker's train phase. It had all of the wooden tracks and trains and I loved watching him sit there and play with it all. She said that she thought she would have a new grandchild soon and she just needed that table. I tried to talk her out of it...but she insisted. I tried to give it all to her free, but I think that insulted her. I had already marked all of the clothes down to a quarter each. She handed me what had to have been a large chunk of her disability check and told me she would be back in 30 minutes to get the train table. I hated taking her money.... but she would not take no for an answer. She drove away and I waited and waited and waited. She never came back. I still have the train table.<br /><br />All of this to say.....<br /><br />Lady - please come get your money ...or the train table.... or just let me know that you were able to feed yourself despite your spending at my garage sale....geez.Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-12297412794955353492009-06-01T14:45:00.000-07:002009-06-02T14:45:21.335-07:00my "little" boyMy little boy, Tucker James Isbell is growing up. In the Fall he will start Kindergarten and I feel this urgency to suck up every second of time with him this summer before he goes away! Not only is he growing physically (and eating a ton) his little mind is going places I am not sure that I am ready for.<br /><br />Big Boy Indicator # 1<br /><br />Tucker has decided that he should be taking showers ALONE from now on. He relieved James and I of our nightly bath duty and explained that he didn't really need any help. This has not been easy on me. I keep wanting to be in there checking on him. He loves soap and water and it is all over the bathroom....but he is very clean when he is done.<br /><br />Elizabeth asked if she could take a big boy shower too. I quickly bathed her in a bubble bath, wrapped her up in a hooded towel, put baby lotion all over her, put on the pull-up and rocked her while I sang. How much can a mom take in one night????<br /><br />Big Boy Indicator # 2<br /><br />Tucker is ready for a big boy room. He politely told me that while the decorations on his wall were cute and he did not want to complain.....that they were ...welll...kind of babyish. WHAT! I looked at the pictures of cars and trucks he had had in his room since he moved from the crib. He was right. Baseball big boy room is in progress.<br /><br />Big Boy Indicator # 3<br /><br />Tucker asked me who he was going to marry. That's right I said MARRY??? What???? I calmly told him he did not have to worry about that. I would pick out a girl for him when he got older.<br /><br />To which he replied, "Oh thank you momma, thank you!"<br /><br />Then we hugged.Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-90936187562682626032009-04-16T12:01:00.000-07:002009-05-22T07:15:21.663-07:00MemoriesDuring my life I have lost many things..... grandparents, friends, babies, a father and a little of my ability to avoid being caught up in the fear of loosing more.<br /><br /><br />I guess living with the reality that we are not in control can be a frightening and just when I think that my heart is safe from castrophe I am reminded that nothing is certain outside of God's love and salvation.<br /><br /><br /><br />Lately, I have been remembering a close college friend who passed away in a car accident years ago. What I do have and hope to have forever are some amazing memories that bring me much comfort....<br /><br /><br /><br />I remember Erin and Joy getting me ready for my first college date freshman year.<br /><br /><br />I remember Erin and Joy finding me at the library to take pictures before Sigma Alpha pinning.<br /><br /><br /><br />I remember watching her sit up late at night to finish her quiet time before she went to bed.<br /><p>I remember her giving me a "date" for my birthday.</p><p>I remember feeling like someone knew me for exactly who I was and loving me for it.<br /><br />One of God's greatest gifts is true friendship. Recently I had the opportunity to spend time with Joy (my college roommate) and Erin's two sisters. Thanks for a great weekend and for the real friendship that transcends time and circumstance. Love you all.</p><p></p>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-72382766237059645462009-01-14T06:34:00.000-08:002009-02-09T11:59:57.643-08:00New YearThere is something about a new year that brings out the desire to "take down and put up" as Thomas Jefferson would put it. When I take down all of the Christmas decorations, things always look a little sad to me. I am on a mission to brighten up a spot or two around my house. (The farmer is always a little worried about what this mission will entail, but he is very endulging.)<br /><br />For my next project, I am determined to refinish a cedar chest that used to be in my Memaw's house. It is beautiful and belonged to her mother many years ago. I can't wait to make it my newest treasure. It looks good in my study and provides much needed storage space. I also like that I think of my Memaw every time I look at it.<br /><br />James moved all of the furniture around in our bedroom and now I am determined to paint my room. I am very indecisive when it comes to picking out paint colors, so I must head to the paint store and decide before the Farmer is ready to paint. Taking something that is little and imagining it big is not my one of my strengths.Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-88184048778848199312009-01-01T09:18:00.000-08:002009-01-14T06:31:16.226-08:00Memaw<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglxUkD9SBGhiTvR-_C89vfWeOYupkF4R1FJzIuEtvDt88EU3RgZt2rFv2M8rwGIn6tjRnciBiRVaxnz0tvSYCqh7CEs5NrbwVaaX-Tf3CG9eEbgCGZEBMRWVe-mOFKVRlFAouT5fN-MzE/s1600-h/memaw.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291155366272023218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglxUkD9SBGhiTvR-_C89vfWeOYupkF4R1FJzIuEtvDt88EU3RgZt2rFv2M8rwGIn6tjRnciBiRVaxnz0tvSYCqh7CEs5NrbwVaaX-Tf3CG9eEbgCGZEBMRWVe-mOFKVRlFAouT5fN-MzE/s320/memaw.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Today I woke up with the lyrics of an old hymn stuck in my head. </div><br /><br /><br /><div>"When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing it will be</div><br /><br /><br /><div>When we all see Jesus, we'll sing and shout the victory"</div><br /><br /><br /><div>The image those words conjures up includes Faye Dodson on the piano, a line of men waiting to serve communion, Dr. Temple sitting on his bench looking to be in prayer, and my Memaw sitting on the second pew of the church with her entire family standing - no towering around her. The church always seemed a little stuffy but I always felt very at home and secure standing behind her. Every Sunday was exactly the same. We were always a little late to church and Memaw was already in her place when we got there. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I am so grateful for.....<br /></div><div>the last few times I got to see her before she died</div><br /><div>the way I felt important when I was with her</div><br /><div>her wisdom</div><br /><div>her stories and her laughter</div><br /><div>her constant commitment to serve the Lord<br /><br /></div><div>the stability she brought to my life</div><br /><div>her generosity</div><br /><div>her love</div><br /><br /><div>The song that I can't keep from singing this morning brings new meaning.<br /></div><div></div><div><em>...what a day of rejoicing it will be!</em></div><br /><br /><div></div>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-73484528451548528412008-12-13T18:43:00.000-08:002008-12-14T06:13:54.074-08:00"A Great Hotel"<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-size:13pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Today I visited my grandmother in the nursing home. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-size:13pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">She has always been a big part of what was good in my life. I have always been amazed at how she has seemed to known all of us in a special way and am thankful for the many hours she spent talking to Lord about what was going on in our lives. She was keenly aware of what others needed and often was the one to provide a meal or a new dress on just the right day. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-size:13pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Memaw is 92 years old. She fell while trying to get to the bathroom and as a result of her fall and her other health issues she had gone to live at the Mesa Springs nursing home in Abilene Texas. After a series of falls over the Thanksgiving holiday, my mother had to take her to the emergency room. They ran a series of tests and took many x-rays. She saw many doctors and endured much pain.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-size:13pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">To hear her tell it... she spent the day in Dallas working with my mom. She fired the "clients" as they would not cooperate with her agenda. She instructed the doctors that she must get on the road by four o'clock if she wanted to be home before dark and get dinner together. She even apologized at the end of the day for her complaints and told my mother that she really did enjoy spending the day in Dallas with her.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-size:13pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Lately her mind has settled in different moments of her past and she has trouble knowing exactly where she is and whom she is with. Sometimes she is in Whitney (where she grew up) or she is looking for her husband at dinner even though he passed away many years ago. The inner struggle she experiences keeps her longing to go home and at the same time grateful for the excellent care she is receiving. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-size:13pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">When I walked down the long hallway on my to her room tonight, I did not really know what to expect. As I passed the days trash being hauled away and the other elderly looking for a friendly face, I began to nervously anticipate how she would respond to my arrival. She was so excited to see my faced. I hugged and kissed her. She held my hand and we talked about her pajamas. I had to explain to her every so often where she got them. My sister Kimberly hung scripture on the wall. We pretended that it was perfectly normal for us to discuss whether or not she should try to go to the bathroom and she told me that the food here was good. She said it was not anything she or I would fix and in fact she wasn't really sure what any of it was, but she said it was good and "every bit of it was free". I was filled with so much emotion at the sight of her frail body and her blatant vulnerability. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-size:13pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">And then she looked me straight in eye as if her mind was perfectly clear. She squeezed my hand and said, "Sara - I am glad to see you doing so good. For a while you weren't and I was worried for you. You were sort of sick I guess. But now I can see you are just perfect...I am glad to know that." </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-size:13pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">How did she know?</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-size:13pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:20.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-size:13pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">I kissed her goodnight and she said, "Overall, it's a great hotel!"</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-23445426222996834782008-12-08T11:15:00.000-08:002008-12-08T12:29:41.076-08:00The Farmer<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim0uUxdKK1EeLi3MMGI7ZXZ9Us9oIw4rtuqw4Or9rsS9diS3HtChkrM-qu_15H4aRhd6ZdbDze8oOTRKgThak1OfwQDiANAivPJXWCbPoiq-NClxL36yzi61fQAqdHQz0T8Twqa0dtBtg/s1600-h/007074-R3-15-9.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277518960943173074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim0uUxdKK1EeLi3MMGI7ZXZ9Us9oIw4rtuqw4Or9rsS9diS3HtChkrM-qu_15H4aRhd6ZdbDze8oOTRKgThak1OfwQDiANAivPJXWCbPoiq-NClxL36yzi61fQAqdHQz0T8Twqa0dtBtg/s320/007074-R3-15-9.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div>My husband grew up on the farm amongst the cows, pigs, bugs, horses, chickens, cats and dogs. His childhood experiences include sleeping with a pig in his bed, stretching a chicken to death (age 3 - I will have to tell you the whole story sometime), birthing a calf, riding three hours in a small car with a squealing pig, picking up cow poop and throwing it like a snowball, swimming in "tank water" (I don't really think it is water), holding the "shit pole" and much, much more!</div><br /><div>As for my childhood animal experiences...I think we owned a dog once.</div><br /><div>Although my husband is not a farmer, he is actually a school administrator; his farming background serves as a lens that he filters everything else through. I try to remember this when he wears his muddy boots on the living room rug:). You know what they say... you can take the boy out of the farm but you can't take the farm out of the boy. So even though he puts on a coat and bowtie most days and spends his time trying to improve the quality of education offered to underprivileged teenagers in Oak Cliff, I still always think of him as a farmer.</div><br /><div>The part I love the most is his drive for excellence. He never seems to be slowed down by the amount of hard work or time a meaningful project will take, he just keeps reaching for the excellence that will make a difference in the end. I know he gets this from his early days on the farm. </div><br /><div>Every year he goes to different classes at his schools and reads Dr. Seuss. However, he goes about it in a way that I would never have thought of! This year he actually rode through Oak Cliff on his motorcycle dressed like Cat and the Hat. I drove over to Oak Cliff to watch the parade down Jefferson Street and to document the event. This picture tells more about my husband than I ever could. I am grateful for his perspective and what it brings to our home. </div><br /><br /><div></div></div>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-92216647531976751212008-12-01T06:06:00.000-08:002008-12-01T06:12:03.119-08:00ThanksgivingWe had a wonderful time over the Thanksgiving holiday. I am thankful for safe travel, wellness, family, time with my husband and a few treasured moments with my Memaw whom I have learned much from. <br /><br />Check out this video on my brother's blog. It speaks for itself!<br /><br /><a href="http://rossstrader.blogspot.com/">http://rossstrader.blogspot.com/</a>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-26619162312935306792008-11-19T05:46:00.000-08:002008-11-19T08:55:01.752-08:00Family Traditions<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjZTLNzq577Vu7DjwQqOanDtwm8-whsVWIKXl7VTxrEU3y9zlkGZh9tce7RNWnA_JMXCNw2SMcSGvRiFx8Jan9UPrKK3iuwMIzsXPlB_9zLm_E-nGZeYRHPrJAYfqf90cyVjiDKYc47o/s1600-h/006642-R2-02-22A_1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270411077995955778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjZTLNzq577Vu7DjwQqOanDtwm8-whsVWIKXl7VTxrEU3y9zlkGZh9tce7RNWnA_JMXCNw2SMcSGvRiFx8Jan9UPrKK3iuwMIzsXPlB_9zLm_E-nGZeYRHPrJAYfqf90cyVjiDKYc47o/s320/006642-R2-02-22A_1.jpg" border="0" /></a>Elizabeth's breakfast in bed - 2008<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5C0tzuE_OaCL182bc9Bt0VlYCnKJiagUceW7OccqY8FhyphenhyphenEAPVvJvOga_XilN6HR7RPgiOjj9hmxDoLhZqGxs5Q_JrPc0RsbosKQfm4Zm_sGcT7TqALOb8pZ3oGi5kJp__igz2JH3apA/s1600-h/671073-R1-19-5A_020.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270411072109565522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5C0tzuE_OaCL182bc9Bt0VlYCnKJiagUceW7OccqY8FhyphenhyphenEAPVvJvOga_XilN6HR7RPgiOjj9hmxDoLhZqGxs5Q_JrPc0RsbosKQfm4Zm_sGcT7TqALOb8pZ3oGi5kJp__igz2JH3apA/s320/671073-R1-19-5A_020.jpg" border="0" /></a> Christmas decorating - 2007<br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>When I think about my childhood one of the things that always comes to mind first is all of the traditions we had as a family. My mother had a talent for making simple things special and for bringing out the joy in all occasions. One of my favorite traditions in our house was breakfast in bed on your birthday. </div><br /><div>I can't remember the presents or the different birthday parties, but I clearly remember breakfast in bed with my family. My mom would get up extra early and make breakfast that often consisted of cornflakes with a big scoop of ice cream on top (you should try this - it is delicious). She would put it on a tray that was decorated with pretty dishes and beautiful napkins. She would would wake up the rest of the family and they would all come in and wake me up by singing happy birthday. She would always ask if I wanted to open my presents first or eat my breakfast first (I always picked the presents!). Then we would all pile up in the bed and talk and laugh until we had to get ready for the day. Every year I would sit up at night in anticipation of this blessed event. I always knew it was coming and it never failed to be the highlight of my day. Even in college, my mom gathered my siblings and came to my dorm room to continue the tradition. </div><br /><div>This tradition (along with others that she created) made me feel apart of something bigger and greater than myself. It created a connectedness that is still strong <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">among</span> my family now. As an adult I learned that my mom used special china and pretty cloth napkins mostly because she was out money to spend on paper goods and that the ice cream was put on the cornflakes in an effort to disguise the lack of biscuits or other more traditional breakfast foods. The presents usually consisted of clothes that we needed and she wanted us to have something "fresh" (as she would say) to wear that day. No matter what else I encountered that day, I always carried with me that feeling that I was special and important to the people that mattered the most to me. What a great thing to be apart of. Now, my siblings all continue this tradition with their own families and find it equally rewarding. It has never been about money or stuff or anything extravagant, just about being apart of something special.<br /></div><br /><div>As a mom, I aspire to create the same connectedness in my own family. For the past several years James and I have started a fun holiday tradition in our home. Every year we travel for Thanksgiving and before we leave I get out all of the Christmas decorations, set up the tree, rearrange furniture, vacuum, dust, get the fireplace ready for the stockings and leave town with the house perfectly clean. I set out all of the ornaments and decorations on the dining room table. Sunday night after Thanksgiving we always glad to get home. We bath the kids early, put their new Christmas pj's on (one of Nana's newest traditions), listen to Christmas music, decorate the tree, drink hot chocolate, read the Christmas story from the bible and hang our stockings. It is so much fun and my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">favorite</span> way to kick off the Christmas season. I really look forward to it and am always glad the "work" part of decorating is out of the way. And now I feel like all that preparation is worth it because....</div><br /><div>Yesterday, Tucker asked me when Christmas started. I told him that we celebrate Christmas <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">throughout</span> the Christmas Season which begins right after Thanksgiving and lasts until Christmas day. He said, "No no mom - I mean when do we put the ornaments on the tree and wear our new <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">pajamas</span>?" </div><br /><div>Let the holidays begin!!!</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><em>I would love to know about other traditions that other families have. I am always looking for new ideas.</em><br /></div></div>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-59193215960178250652008-11-01T11:25:00.001-07:002008-11-01T11:32:38.022-07:00Flower Mound Pumpkin Patch<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJyscWQ3ed3wNjtWH_N0Zjyujk25Sz3V9zf5MK7Qc6CpFBR4Lh4vglSGDnCPDnhKXvvvQ4utakx_uzElaDLVdeiUgbN7vCzqjEUq8Db-1GQ5RfJocgVbbh1rNskM1ghlf69qjeUXzJROw/s1600-h/006642-R2-22-2A.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263757967684033954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJyscWQ3ed3wNjtWH_N0Zjyujk25Sz3V9zf5MK7Qc6CpFBR4Lh4vglSGDnCPDnhKXvvvQ4utakx_uzElaDLVdeiUgbN7vCzqjEUq8Db-1GQ5RfJocgVbbh1rNskM1ghlf69qjeUXzJROw/s320/006642-R2-22-2A.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj64H-8VdUWhxtccMoe_jTOZIywZNOwOEoYWyGfo6HlJH366xdQ4Jnjfj5s3nfUxVC8uP7_hGXLeGPheXxOLcvWBTy4Mw6p5HaaD3Y_g4iPjV-JTpkQ4TPXMr5mn-9mjs6mgrHE-ORxIGU/s1600-h/pumpkin+birthday+13.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263757596475111810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 97px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj64H-8VdUWhxtccMoe_jTOZIywZNOwOEoYWyGfo6HlJH366xdQ4Jnjfj5s3nfUxVC8uP7_hGXLeGPheXxOLcvWBTy4Mw6p5HaaD3Y_g4iPjV-JTpkQ4TPXMr5mn-9mjs6mgrHE-ORxIGU/s320/pumpkin+birthday+13.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263757593591412034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 97px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU5If_xq9L6mFDkVwa6Kv03Q5SfplT2bhNOsHiadC2oqsVGGJCHff40iic5HPWzIRp07snSVdMTj3Hn7oHNCKNhROjQuuK0rBwTLStbB_TPVczOuBeyn-LYg9psn4P6oAW_A6kjFcQBpA/s320/pumpkin+birthday+16.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7AoGhGfUKfIquyJV3PoLL4Bx3bCsHiOe1NgPQ-SoAFg1zQF7Bb7EKqgbcxz0O-p_dR7NFl9saNcSI1UR3UA7N4blbWHHlOM4utC-RmJaOGAzbzvZW0quTCmR6GsdpFodXmXvW2cXWGI/s1600-h/pumpkin+cake.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263757578895331858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 97px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7AoGhGfUKfIquyJV3PoLL4Bx3bCsHiOe1NgPQ-SoAFg1zQF7Bb7EKqgbcxz0O-p_dR7NFl9saNcSI1UR3UA7N4blbWHHlOM4utC-RmJaOGAzbzvZW0quTCmR6GsdpFodXmXvW2cXWGI/s320/pumpkin+cake.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>If you have not been to the Flower Mound Pumpkin Patch, you should consider making a trip sometime. We have gone every year on Tucker's birthday. It started when Tucker was three. Having already spent and spent on the birthday party and gifts, we were looking for an inexpensive thing to do on Tucker's actual birthday. Thanks to my wonderful friend Camille, we found the Flower Mound Pumpkin Patch loaded with bounce houses, hayrides, a maze, lots of our favorite characters and great photo opportunities all free of charge. The day was such a success that it has become a tradition. This year Tucker's birthday fell on a Saturday and he wanted to go the pumpkin patch and have his birthday party there. (Elizabeth's birthday is the day before and she wanted to do whatever "my Tucka" was doing!) Although a much more crowded than years past because it was Saturday, the pumpkin patch was a great place to celebrate a fall birthday. Tucker and Elizabeth had a great time. They wanted to play dress up at their party so we passed out wings and tutu skirts to the girls and batman capes with a mask for the boys. All the kids looked so cute running around all dressed up. Thanks to everyone who could share this special day with us! Thanks to the people who run the Flower Mound Pumpkin Patch ...we had a great time! </div><div><br /> </div><div>PS - part of me thinks they are really crazy to run the pumpkin patch and charge nothing for the activities (they only charge if you want to buy a pumpkin) - I'm not sure I could ever host such an event! </div></div></div></div></div>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-14897099050473833172008-10-09T19:17:00.000-07:002008-11-01T11:53:33.418-07:00Project WeekendLast weekend James' parents came in and helped with some projects around the house. They did a great job repairing the ceiling (Elizabeth flushed half of a package of wipes down the upstairs potty after changing her baby's diaper thus creating a large hole in the kitchen ceiling). They also finished the plumbing repairs in the master bathroom. It was a great weekend and I really appreciate all of the hard work.<br /><br />Also, James and I actually got to go on a date. This is a rare opportunity for us. We ate a great little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mexican</span> food restaurant and went to watch his school's football game. I actually rode on his bike through Dallas. This was the scariest ride of my life. I never took physics in school and I wished I had. It is amazing how one can stay on those bikes in the wind at 60 mph. One day I might be able to ride that thing with my eyes open. Then I will able to write a bit more on the experience. For now I will say ... I lived through it.<br /><br />And no there are no pictures of me on the bike.Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-15801335755860392262008-09-19T18:16:00.000-07:002008-09-23T19:46:22.854-07:00Mrs. Witcher<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zsGgeDB0js8BclNjG3BkneI_ZLTe2IxCVzR_AjXEZEIQEIyMojQvf_txgdECDjfb_ornSUsSAKkxNGE6SMUtfUYURI279Vc6MJTNXsyaudu5obgpO-Z5w_LVR0yL-OakykAKSxO34P8/s1600-h/113137-R1-25-5_026.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249412786428252978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zsGgeDB0js8BclNjG3BkneI_ZLTe2IxCVzR_AjXEZEIQEIyMojQvf_txgdECDjfb_ornSUsSAKkxNGE6SMUtfUYURI279Vc6MJTNXsyaudu5obgpO-Z5w_LVR0yL-OakykAKSxO34P8/s320/113137-R1-25-5_026.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGpZ2kH7sAdjtKkN7TSEZvziM4EPLYHhNKrT9re0QPh17G2Gb6nOEJTIjzsgisD_0MzzIwzo-TvDsqoCbx3yfHK_uvZao8YID_K_uKxNLMOwL-pL_n22b6KDhyphenhyphenKH_rkYE0_CqtNfxKAQ/s1600-h/113137-R1-24-1A_025.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249412576780673282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGpZ2kH7sAdjtKkN7TSEZvziM4EPLYHhNKrT9re0QPh17G2Gb6nOEJTIjzsgisD_0MzzIwzo-TvDsqoCbx3yfHK_uvZao8YID_K_uKxNLMOwL-pL_n22b6KDhyphenhyphenKH_rkYE0_CqtNfxKAQ/s320/113137-R1-24-1A_025.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Well , school is in full swing and Tucker is adjusting perfectly to his new class. I was nervous about everything and spent way too much time, money, energy..... getting everything together. That is what I do with my nervous energy:) But after finding the perfect nap mat, backpack, lunch box and first day of school outfit we were ready to go. I have spent weeks praying that Tucker would get a teacher who had a desire to know him and understand him. Mrs. Witcher was the answer I had hoped for! (There is another teacher in the room and we love her too!) After just two weeks of school, Tucker was talking about her constantly to me. Every school morning he wakes up and can't wait to go see her.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>When I picked him up on Thursday and we were all standing at the door he says, "Mrs. Witcher, will you come over to my house after school today so you can see me in my batman costume? You can wear your costume if you want to and we can play in my Spiderman tent!" Mrs. Witcher says, "Tucker every time I think of batman I always think he looks just like you. Thanks for inviting me to your house." Then she gave me a wink.</div><br /><div>Tonight at bed time he even added Mrs. Witcher to his usual prayer...</div><br /><div>"Dear God, Thank you for mommy, daddy, Tucker, Elizabeth and Mrs. Witcher. Help us all to be safe and happy. Amen."</div><br /><div>Glory to God in the highest and peace in mother's heart!!!</div></div>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-24677396268824247432008-09-05T18:52:00.000-07:002008-09-19T18:13:33.722-07:00BirthdaysIt seems like each birthday comes around faster and faster. It is hard to believe I am 33 this month. I have never really felt old before or even had that feeling where I was worried about getting older or dreading getting older. Mostly I have enjoyed each stage as it came. However, this birthday was different. I feel like I am definitely saying good bye to the "child - bearing" part of life and I am not sure I am completely ready to make that transition. I have already gotten rid of all of the baby equipment and most of my baby clothes, but the "I want another baby" feeling has never left.<br /><br />Lately I have often been asked if James and I are planning to have a third baby. Some of the people who have asked know our whole story and some are just making conversation, either way the question stirs up a great amount of emotion in me. Part of me wants to correct them and say "You mean a fifth baby?" I always thought that at age 33 I would have had the four children I have always planned on having. I just never thought that after four pregnancies I would only have two children. Tucker and Elizabeth are completely wonderful and fulfilling - they bring joy to every day - the kind of joy that makes me want to have ten more kids. (Not really ten!!!) I know that if God does not give me anymore I will be completely filled up with the two I have. However, I just don't know if I am ready to let go of the idea that there might be one more in God's plan for me. My head tells me that the timing for a another is wrong and that it is time to move on from the baby stage. But my heart has all of the love and desire to hold one more - sometimes I wake up in the night and feel like I have lost something but I just don't know what it is and I just want to find it. I wonder if that feeling will ever go away.<br /><br />I believe we are asked to live a life of faith - and right now I am trying not to live a life of fear. It is hard to decide what I am more afraid of ... being pregnant or not being pregnant.<br /><br />Mostly, turing 33 has made me count my blessings. As I drove from Abilene to Arlington on Saturday - I couldn't stop myself from naming them one by one. Although I have no idea what the next year will hold and no idea what I want the next year to hold - I know I am happy to have such amazing people in my life now to take the journey with me.<br /><br />Thanks to my family and friends for all the birthday wishes... I treasure them!Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-73229769165873609892008-08-21T16:49:00.000-07:002008-08-21T16:56:23.349-07:00Game Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BskoZ0T4ITKZKuvMr6y4hFiBTqk83K3nVptNYfMcvB2wT65u10rOYb__r4uVWPMuO3HYSS-DLG6RBQfthyZnfpqxtRq5YIEfplfHp6klSA7q3Iw0sqw8Og7fFJoIjSEBe49p3OfYm1Y/s1600-h/718590-R1-02-22A_003.jpg"></a> Most mornings when I wake up Tucker's face is about 2 inches from mine and he is saying, "Mom, mom... will tuck my shirt in all the way in?" He is usually fully dressed in his t-ball uniform and wanting me to help him get the shirt and belt just so. He is very "just so" about the way he wears his uniform.<br /><br />In his mind, the game is about to start and he is headed downstairs to our living room to take a few practice swings before his first at bat. I usually head downstairs (much too slowly for Tucker's taste) and try to find my way to some coffee. By the time I have stirred in the creamer, the game is in the third inning. He is 2 for 2, the bases are loaded, Sammy Sosa just hit nice single into right field and Tucker is about to hit his first grand slam for the day. What a day at ballpark. I begin to pull out a few things for breakfast as he slides into home plate (a basket of magazines) and the crowd goes wild (many magazines fall out of the basket and make lots of noise). The clock above the stove tells me it is 7:12am and I am debating on waking up Elizabeth.<br /><br />I love Tucker's intensity. He lives life as if each day is game day. Each task gets the same amount of intensity and determination. (Unfortunately these characteristics still apply when he decides to have a fit.) For Tucker all things are purposeful and meaningful. I want to be more like him. I want to see daily tasks as part of a chance to be great.By the time Elizabeth gets downstairs Tucker has already set her pink ball, glove, and bat out for her. He greets her with a quick hug and then asks, "Elizabeth - so you remember how I showed you to play defense?"<br /><br />Today when Tucker woke up I was already downstairs, my second cup of coffee in one hand and James' glove in the other. I was ready to win the World Series and then head out for the best<br />Target run of my life!<br /><br />Thanks Tucker!Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-43922881683981929952008-08-15T19:36:00.000-07:002008-08-17T10:00:20.019-07:00Personal Victory<p>Yesterday I experienced a very <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">personal</span> victory. </p><p>Two things I really love doing are cooking & baking and serving others. One would think that the best of both worlds would be combining the two. Not so much. For several years now I have been signing up and volunteering to take edible stuff to people whom need it and I have failed. Somehow the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">simplest</span> of tasks have become large train wrecks. Sometimes I can even see the train coming and just can't get off the tracks. I have spent much mental energy trying to turn over a new leaf and keep simple tasks simple. </p><p>Yesterday I did it! I delivered three yummy pies and sugar cookies to a group of ladies in need. I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">successfully</span> arrived at her house on time with the promised goods. I did not get <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">pneumonia</span> and bronchitis, no one projectile <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">vomited</span> orange stuff, no child pooped or peed their pants, nothing was burned so badly that is stunk up an entire church and the people receiving it threw it in the trash when they thought I was not looking, I did not loose my car keys or my cell phone, I did not get lost or forget my directions, I was not late because of traffic, and I even included sugar cookies for a party favor. They were beautiful. </p><p>The experience was so completely satisfying that I might be able to try it again. The best part is that I actually had fun making the pies. Thanks to my sisters for the moral support.</p><p>And yes, all of those things have actually happened to me while delivering or serving food to others!</p><p></p>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-57546846876879162722008-08-11T11:44:00.000-07:002009-06-21T17:49:07.059-07:00Unexpected GenerosityJust when you least expect it, you find generosity from another human being.<br /><br /><br />One of the things I think is most difficult in the world of daily parenting activities is loading up to leave the house. Tucker is nearly trained and self sufficient. Elizabeth on the other hand is not. Just to run up to Michael's to grab a pie holder can become an ordeal of great proportion. The process of everyone dressed, gone to the potty (Elizabeth is potty training - so she tries to tee tee in the potty about 5 times before we leave the house), teeth brushed, shoes on, my purse, an extra outfit for Elizabeth, wipes and the coupon I am trying to take advantage of takes at least 20 minutes if there are not accidents or fusses between the kids. This morning went pretty smoothly and we were loaded in only 27 minutes. When I pull up to Michael's it is pouring rain. I pause to gather up coupon, purse, two snacks, Elizabeth's extra clothes and wipes when I notice my purse is a bit lite.<br /><br />I remember now - had to get my wallet out to give something to the Farmer(my husband James) last night. My wallet is missing - no way to pay.<br /><br />I sigh - I head home to get wallet. Elizabeth decides she needs to tinkle tinkle. We all unload and barley avoid an accident. I settle an argument between my children over who can jump the furthest and we are loading again to head to Michael's.<br /><br />I pull up to Michael's and began to gather up my stuff. Your kidding me???? No wallet. I guess in the chaos of the potty incident I left the wallet at home again. I do find my checkbook at the bottom of my purse. I head into Michael's thinking that if they do not take my check then after I shop I could have them hold things at the front until I get back. We shop - the children do pretty well. The lady actually takes my check and we are headed home.<br /><br />The kids are starving. I have already forgotten the wallet thing and am totally preoccupied with thoughts of things on my "to do" list. I tell the kids we can get tacos from Taco Bueno for lunch knowing that I have three free taco coupons. I order and my bill minus the coupons is 2.47$ When I pull up to pay I remember - oh yeah - I don't have my wallet. I feel so stupid. I just look at the lady - ready to give her back the cold diet coke I was already sipping. I apologize and explain that I don't have my wallet with me and I will be right back - I just live around the corner. And then comes the shocker - she said, "Here you go. Just take it any way and pay us another time.''<br /><br /><br />SO THANK YOU Taco Bueno girl for your well timed generosity. You have no idea how much it meant to me!Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-69481023789441036052008-08-08T18:57:00.000-07:002008-08-08T19:27:05.377-07:00The "Mother-Wife"Several weekends ago James and I spent some time with another couple (that shall remain nameless to protect the innocent). We had a wonderful time and enjoyed their company very much. However, throughout the weekend, I found myself quite annoyed by the "mothering" the wife did of the husband. Specifically the telling the husband to do "x" and then giving specific instructions on how "x" should be done. Every move he made was up for review. Her actions were not done out of malice or ill intent, but out of habit. His response didn't include anger or even contempt for her critique. Do not misunderstand...they seemed quite happy with each other; I was the one bothered by the whole thing.<br /><br />Until... James and I went to order our usual Arby's for dinner before the Ranger game and to my surprise I told him exactly how to order. I even said, "Now tell her..."<br /><br />OHHHH NOOOOOO! I am a "mother-wife"!!!!<br /><br />I was shocked!!! Did I sound just like the "mother-wife" who had annoyed me so greatly? How could this be? I even went as far as to justify my instructions after I gave them. There I was becoming the woman I was so annoyed by just so he would not order curly fries.<br /><br />I thought about this incident for days. How could I have talked to my husband (who by the way provides a wonderful life us) like he was four? When you are a mother 24/7 and you do not take much time to yourself, it is hard to stop the urge to mother someone. If I do not tell my son to wash his hands after he goes to the bathroom, he probably won't. If I tell my husband the same...it is time for a night off!<br /><br />Being a wife and mother at the same time, all the time is not an easy task. Unfortunately it often leads to a women becoming a "mother-wife" instead of a mother and a wife.<br /><br /><em>"Dear God, give me the strength to be mother and to be a wife and the sanity to know the difference."</em>Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-872955808155859236.post-13158237581335964932008-08-07T16:48:00.000-07:002008-08-13T10:04:52.646-07:00Softly SpeakingA few weeks ago a good friend of mine referred to me as "soft spoken". She meant this in a good way and has no idea that it is so stuck in my mind. She has not known me long enough to know that I, Sara Elizabeth Strader Isbell, have never been referred to as "soft spoken". Those who knew me as a child would probably describe me as "way too outspoken" or at least "never at a loss for words". I am so puzzled by this new description that I can't help but wonder if I have changed much over the years.<br /><br />Has being a wife and a mother (two things I desparately love being) quieted some my own voice?<br />I don't really know the answer to this question and I don't really think all silence is negative. Maybe my new found desire to blog is a way to hear my own voice again.Sara Isbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05690694642171452600noreply@blogger.com5