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The Launching of Dungeness Crab Pots AND a New Baby. All at the Same Time. Literally.
George told me today that the Washington Dungeness Crab Fishermen’s Association has a new Facebook page, so I immediately went over and “liked” it. I did some looking around while I was there and could see right away what a great page it is. Updates on the season and the fleet are regular, and Washington Dungeness crab fishermen are also encouraged to post boat and crew pictures.
I love a positive and informative commercial fishing-themed Facebook page (if you do too, check out Commercial Fishing Families & Friends, the Facebook group I started with a couple other commercial fishing wives), so it’s great that the WDCFA has joined the fun.
Speaking of Washington Dungeness crab fishing, George went to a meeting this morning for an update on the season’s start date. We’ve known for a while that the season is going to begin either (roughly) January 15 or January 25. I eagerly awaited word all day as to the firm date, but the only new thing I learned was that we’d all know in 48 hours what the final and official start date will be.
Now, I normally do not get too hung up on the start date of crab season. I know it’s always sometime between December and January, and I just hope each year that G will be around for Christmas. I was a little nervous six years ago when I was expecting Eva, but George was able to be here for her birth on December 12 before leaving shortly after.
A crab season start date of either January 15 or January 25 does not do me any personal good, as that is the exact date range that our third baby is due. Seriously—I’m not kidding. Her due date is January 25 and she will likely be encouraged out slightly before then, hence, the January 15-25 range.
So, I will be waiting impatiently for the next two days until we found out exactly what we’re looking at. I do have plans in case there is no way G can be here; my parents are on board to help with my two children and dog, and I have three friends lined up to keep me company at the hospital and some more who have offered to help following the birth, but it’s still a messed-up situation.
If a five-to-seven-day coastal storm blows through around the due date, making it impossible to crab, that would help. If not, I’ll cross my fingers for a different kind of miracle. Hey, my dad rushed in from salmon fishing in Puget Sound just in time to make it for my birth, and I know someone else who managed to take a sea plane off of his boat in Alaska, fly to shore, get to the airport, fly two hours to his home state, rent a car, drive two more hours home, and made it in time for the delivery of his daughter.
I overheard George talking with Brett today about all of this.
“I’m in a bit of a pickle,” George said.
Um, yes. That’s one way of putting it.
Fingers crossed!
Just a few short weeks left to go! I also received a 3D video today of the baby moving around and looking cute.
Operation Christmas Child–A Gift For Everyone.
It comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me, or who has ever read this blog, that I am in love with and so proud of my children. That’s not to say we are always well-behaved or that we don’t test boundaries, ignore rules, or make unwise choices. Of course we do! But I am always proud of their sweetness, their caring hearts, and their desire to do nice things and to love people.
This year at a church event, we learned about Operation Christmas Child, a program in which you obtain an empty shoe box and fill it with gifts to send to a boy or girl somewhere around the world for Christmas. Boxes were provided at the event, so we grabbed two of them. Vincent was responsible for choosing gifts for a boy between the ages of two and four, and Eva became responsible for selecting gifts for a girl between the ages of five and nine.
We went shopping this weekend and each of my children chose gifts they thought a boy and girl would love. They selected hair barrettes, hot wheels, chapstick, toothpaste, toothbrushes, stuffed animals, blankets, colorful socks, and rubber lizards for their boxes. At home, we packed the boxes, printed out labels, and waited for this morning when we took them to church and the kids carried them in to place on a table growing with similar boxes.
I was nearly brought to tears several times this weekend as I watched how excited Eva and Vincent were to choose things for someone across the world, close to their ages, who did not have “as much” in the way of toys and the like as they did. Surprisingly, my children never asked for anything for themselves as we chose gifts for their boxes, and they couldn’t wait to proudly, and with huge smiles, carry their boxes into church.
I tallied up the cost and discovered that each box held $35 worth of product. Of course, that amount could have varied in either direction, depending on where one chose to shop. Now, I’m no math whiz (I was an English major!) but a total of $70 seemed pretty darn reasonable, and worth every penny. When I fill up my vehicle with gas, it costs $70. I took the kids to lunch after we did our box shopping, and that cost $20. We went to the mall, where I dropped way too much money on face and hair products.
Keeping the gift box tally in mind compared to what we spend in an average day was a real eye opener for me.
We aren’t strangers to local and global giving around here, but most of our giving is done anonymously or to places we don’t see the impact first hand or know exactly where the money is going. We sponsor a low-income family in town, contribute to young single mothers, volunteer with a no-kill animal shelter, and George gives to Boy Scouts and the Smile Train. But these are things—except for the animal shelter—for which we simply write checks and never actually see impact.
To see my kids smiling and thoughtfully choosing gifts for other children, to print out labels and watch Eva tape them to the boxes, to look forward to tracking the packages to see where they end up, imagining what joy $35 will bring to each child…incredible.
If you have $15 or $30 lying around, consider grabbing a shoe box and filling it up to send across the world through Operation Christmas Child. Drop off for the boxes runs until November 21!
Eva waiting to pack her box that will be sent to a little girl between the ages of five and nine years old somewhere across the world.
Vincent giving two thumbs up for the box he created that will be delivered to a boy aged 2-4 years in a foreign country.
On the way in to church, a drop-off location for the kids' Operation Christmas Child boxes.
Eva and Vincent were all smiles as they added their boxes to the growing pile on the table. We tracked the gift tags so we'll know to which country their boxes will arrive.
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Love Kingergarten, Hate the Kindergarten Rat Race.
This has been the most peaceful day I’ve had since school started…and oddly, it’s been an awesome day in part because there was no school today. I went to bed last night looking so forward to this morning because I knew we wouldn’t have to rush, rush, rush everyone to “get dressed” and “eat breakfast” and “gather backpacks” and “remember lunches” and hustle everyone out the door, down the stairs, and into the car.
Just like the good ole days, the kids and I got up early but we took the morning slow and easy. No rushing, no panic, no last-minute remembering, no racing. We went to Jazzercise all together, saw our friends, went out for breakfast, and then came home. Later this afternoon we made popcorn, put in a movie, and listened to hail pound against the windows and watched the tree limbs going nuts outside during a perfect fall storm.
I tell you, I just can’t stand all-day, every day kindergarten. I really wish that it was a full day but just three days a week, leaving a mother two week days to spend with her little ones exactly as she (and they) wish. I knew that adjusting to a daily 9-5 school grind was going to be a challenge for this commercial fishing mom and family, and it is.
Getting up early is not a problem, but I find hustling and strict schedules really annoying. Be at school by 8:20 each and every morning of the week…or else. Be at the bus stop by this time in the afternoon…or else. Yesterday, I saw that we were going to be late to school and instead of rushing and ordering my kids around, I chose instead to call Eva’s school.
“Eva will be at school at 9 this morning,” I announced. I know that being late is not a good precedent to set for your children, but I weighed the odds and decided to make the call. Hey, these are my kids, not the school’s. They are still little, I’m seven months pregnant, and darn it, I just did not feel like hurrying everyone.
I cannot wait for the holiday season to get into full swing. I am looking forward to a few days off at Thanksgiving and a couple weeks at Christmas with the children so we can have more time to play and relax and not make every day about being on time, dropping off, picking up, eating dinner, and going to bed. They are only four and five years old! And soon, we will have an infant in tow. How did we become part of the workday grind along with working adults?
The school district and most parents absolutely love all-day, every day kindergarten and I’m well aware that my view on the matter is in the minority. I understand the reasoning for the school district implementing all-day, every day kindergarten and I’ve listened to and read all of the arguments on both sides. But this is my blog and I can spout my opinion here…so here it is. I am one mom who does not like it. At all.
I’m glad that today, for one day during the week, we got a break from the elementary school rat race and I had both of my children home to spend time with and enjoy.
Speaking of the holiday season (and moving on from the topic of school—it is Friday, after all!)…it’s not only the holiday season, but it’s pre-Dungeness crab season, too! G and the crew are on the boat working hard each day getting it all ready to go. George has been working on the boat by himself for the last two months, so I love it when the crew rolls into town with their help.
Here are a few pictures of the last couple weeks…
First things first, get the boat back in the water.
Quick time out to celebrate Halloween and go trick or treating…
Back on the boat to keep getting ready for the crab season…
Foster a precious pitbull named Ryder….
Dream of next spring’s Florida or Hawaiian beach vacation, as Eva and her iPhone sketches seem to be doing as well.
Poor Me, Poor Me, Pour Me a Drink…
Friday iPhone Fun almost didn’t happen at the Schile house. Yesterday morning as I was leaving to take Eva to kindergarten, Vincent to preschool, and myself to teach Jazzercise, G announced that he wasn’t going to be able to meet me at the AT&T store that afternoon.
“Wait,” I said. “WHAT?!”
“I can’t get away,” he said. “We’ll have to go tomorrow.”
“No!” I said. “We have to go today! They’ll be gone tomorrow! It’s important!”
“It’s not important,” he said, looking straight at me.
“I’ve been waiting for two years and I’ve done all the research,” I said. “It’s important to me!”
As I left the kitchen, I added one more comment. “You’re mean!”
The conversation, not off to an admirable start (I think I’ve been hanging around too many kindergartners), only went south from there. Now, I normally pride myself on not whining, not begging, and not making people feeling guilty for things they have to do.
Not this time.
I pulled out all the stops. I mentioned the way my back feels like it’s broken every day. That I’m six months pregnant and still throwing up. I’m not sleeping well. I don’t ask for anything. I’ve been miserable for six months. I haven’t had any down time lately…
I know: Poor me, poor me, pour me a drink….(if only!!)
Anyway, as shameless as it all was, I guess G decided that losing two hours of work was not worth sending his pregnant wife over the edge for. In the end, he met me at the phone store and we each came away with the new iPhone 4S. I then spent the rest of the day and night as planned, loading my apps, learning the new features, playing around with the camera, and getting my old iPhone all set up for the kids with more games and learning activities.
Not my proudest day, to be sure. But sometimes a pregnant wife has to do what a pregnant wife has to do, and it isn’t always pretty. ;)
"Okay, you got your new phone, I'm posing for a picture...now will you please go away?"
Vincent couldn't understand why we wouldn't let him climb onto the boat this time.
There's G climbing up the ladder, back to work on refrigeration as soon as his annoying wife leaves the shipyard. :)
Fishing Mommy Down (But Not Out!)
It’s a day on the couch for me. Here’s a bit of advice; if you have a cough that lingers for a week and is not suppressed or helped in any way by cough medicine or Musinex, you might want to go to the doctor. Especially if you are in the middle of a pregnancy.
Don’t give your strange cough seven days, then ten, and then fourteen, thinking it’s got to get better at some point! By the time you enter your third week of gagging, throwing up, and coughing, you might find out what you really had to begin with was viral bronchitis. And when viral bronchitis doesn’t get treated, it becomes bacterial bronchitis. And when that goes untreated, it becomes walking pneumonia….which is what I have now and why I’m on the couch with doctor’s (and husband’s) orders to REST!
I “should have” gone in to the doctor a long time ago, but I’m not an alarmist and I figured it was a simple back-to-school cough that would go away soon. It will go away soon now that I’m on antibiotics and prescription cough syrup.
When you’re a mom of active children, though, what can you do? You keep going. We had school and preschool to get to, open houses, ballet, gymnastics, Jazzercise, and church. We aren’t super busy but we do enjoy these activities and I certainly can’t sit around when we have things to do.
I’m accustomed to keeping going without a lot of help no matter how I’m feeling because that’s what a fishing mom does. Nobody is going to come over to get Eva dressed for ballet, or convince Vincent to eat his breakfast, and there’s no way I’m missing the open house and potluck at school.
G is a huge help when he’s here, but he’s back to work at the harbor and the boat. He had the boat hauled out for bottom painting and is also working on an overhaul of the refrigeration in preparation for the Dungeness crab season.
I did suddenly start to feel bad for the new baby, though, like I wasn’t taking good care of her. My tummy started to pull and hurt when I coughed, and I worried that if it was bacterial, that would definitely not good for a baby. To help ease my guilt I finally went and bought a pink baby book for her and a frame for one of her ultrasound pictures. Then, when G told me to call the doctor, I agreed it was probably time!
Onward and upward. Let the antibiotics and cough medicine do the trick and Mommy will be up and running again in no time.
"Dad, I think the leak is right here. If we could just tighten up this socket a bit..."
"Aw, let's just forget it and go have a popsicle instead."
Adding the first picture of the third child to the family collection.
First Week of Kindergarten: So Far, So Good.
Well, here Mommy sits. Alone. In a quiet house. About to nod off for the lack of little voices, activity, and general family energy. Thank goodness for my dog, Mandy, and the baby twirling in my tummy, or I’d really feel lonely! If it wasn’t for this harsh fall cough I’ve developed, I’d be at Jazzercise with the rest of the moms!
Dad’s down at the boat, fixing crane leaks and getting ready to haul the boat out before the Dungeness crab season festivities begin. I’m not sure why he’s hauling out the boat this time; it seems like he just did it not too long ago, and our boat isn’t the kind you just haul out of the water at random. I was surprised when G emerged in Carhartts this morning, even though he insisted he told me he was resuming boat work today!
Vincent, of course, ran immediately back to his room to put on his work clothes as well, and I took him to preschool dressed in brand new Carhartt overalls just like Daddy.
Eva started kindergarten last week and so far everything has been fine. I was pretty sad the first morning and just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that my first-born baby was sitting in a classroom and would be there all day long. Without me. Eva has been involved in preschool, gymnastics, ballet, and Jazzercise since she was born, but these are things I’ve been involved with right alongside her, and they were controlled environments with parents and children I knew and approved of.
It was strange not recognizing any parent or any child at school. I did see my neighbor, though, which helped. And I am so glad that I know Eva’s kindergarten teacher personally and have full confidence in her professional, family, personal, and educational ethics. Other high points included the fact that the school is tiny and there is just one small kindergarten classroom and one kindergarten/first grade split.
I returned several afternoons last week to have lunch with Eva, I joined the PTA, and filled out classroom volunteer paperwork. You better believe that Momma will be at school with her eagle eye out, sharp and focused, as often as I can. It’s important for me to see who Eva is sitting with at lunch, how the other kids behave, and get a feel for the parents. In fact, I was there so often last week that some of the kids on the playground thought I was on official duty and came over to show me things like the lady bug they’d collected and saved in a jar.
We don’t live far from the school and there’s no real reason for Eva to ride the one bus that services the school and the neighborhood. I was not planning for her to ride it this year at all and was only half-considering it for next year. Eva, though, had other plans.
“Ke’ala rides the bus! Danielle rides the bus! Isaac and Zane ride the bus!” she insisted.
I agreed to “think” about it. Then, I met with the bus driver one day after school. I met with the driver again the next day and accepted the bus paperwork. I asked questions about exactly who rides the bus, what the rules were, and how they ensured safety.
“We haven’t lost a child yet,” she said, smiling.
On the third day, I boarded the bus with Eva and sat her down in the front seat closest to the driver. I explained that this was the only seat I would allow her to sit in and she had to follow Mommy’s rules. I observed every child that boarded the bus before I left Eva.
I stood and waved as the bus pulled out, then drove promptly to the bus stop where I picked Eva up. George and Vincent were there too, along with our dog, Mandy. Vincent wouldn’t look at us, though, because he was mad he couldn’t ride the bus with Eva. When the bus arrived and Eva climbed down the stairs, Vincent ran to to her and wrapped her up in a big bear hug.
It looks like we’ve got a school Open House this week and a school-and-church sponsored Southside Community Meal that we’ve been invited to. I have Eva’s daily class schedule here with me, so I know exactly what she’s learning and what she’s doing every hour of the day.
Quick stop at Lowe's before heading to a princess tea party.
First day of preschool. Dirt rocks!
My little scholar.
No Place Like the Beach House
I am not one of those people who winds down easily and naturally after a vacation, looking forward to home and my own bed; on the contrary, I feel sad when our trips draw to a close and we must pack up our things and head back to the real world.
I love being away from e-mail, appointments, running around, and my desk of bill piles, computers, and calendars.
In particular, I enjoy spending time here at my parent’s beach house where the living is slow, quiet, and simple. We are a short walk through the dunes to the Pacific ocean where we can play on a huge, isolated, wondrous stretch of beach. (Yesterday, someone’s commercial crab buoy washed ashore as the kids built sand castles!) At night, we bunker in and fall peacefully asleep without worry or anxiety. Cell coverage is blissfully sporadic and Internet access dicey.
I tease George all the time and tell him we should move here to the coast. In fact, there’s a house for sale right in front of us. He can easily homeport our boat at one of the commercial harbors, I can open a little Jazzercise studio, and the kids can go to school.
What’s not to like about that plan?
Plenty, according to G. So, I’m spending our last couple of days here not thinking about the obligations, stacks of e-mails, the start of the school year and impending start of crab season that await us at home. I’m going to finish reading my book (my second since we arrived!) and enjoy each second we have left together in our little family hideaway.
Thanks, Mom and Dad, for providing such a place for us all to truly get away all these years!
Slow Down, World. You’re Moving Too Fast For Mommy.
I have not slept well at all for the last month and I’ve been more jittery than usual during the day. (No, it isn’t from alcohol withdrawal due to my being pregnant! LOL.) It’s because I don’t deal very well with change and everything is changing at a pace I’m not comfortable with.
First, the end of summer vacation. It hasn’t been much of a vacation as our weather did not cooperate this year, but still. In about two weeks, my first-born baby is headed to kindergarten and my second-born baby will be in preschool each day. This means that for the first time since I actually held a “real” job (eleven years ago), I will be getting up at 6 a.m. each day to get us all ready for the long day ahead. Five days a week, every week, for the next nine months.
It’s not that I can’t get up early; it’s more that I like the freedom of taking our mornings nice and easy, choosing our pace and deciding how to spend the day. We’ve always had some obligation (Jazzercise, Eva’s preschool) but nothing we were absolutely compelled to do or for which we required permission to miss.
A few months ago, when our school district went to all-day, every day kindergarten, we balked. We started looking into private kindergartens and did a lot of research. In the end, we opted for public school as Eva was set to attend a very small, reputable, nearby, historic 1920s elementary kindergarten in our neighborhood. In addition, her best friend was attending the same school which thrilled Eva. We toured the school, met the kindergarten teachers, saw the cafeteria, met the librarian, and turned in all her paperwork.
Last week, I got a call notifying me that there had been a mistake and in fact, after all that, Eva was not actually attending that school!
As it turns out, our house is literally on the border between two schools and we are supposed to go to the other one. (If we lived in our neighbor’s house, we’d be at the first school.)
I started tossing and turning all night, wondering whether to transfer Eva to the school we thought we were going to or simply have her attend the school she’s supposed to. I made calls to each school and the district and decided it would not be worth the hassle to have her transfer. I’d have to renew the transfer every year in March and wait months to see if it was approved, so we’d never know until August each year where she was going to school. There would also be no guarantee she’d stay at the school throughout her elementary years or that Vincent would go with her to the same school next year or in years to come.
Way too much of a pain.
So, Eva’s going to the school she’s supposed to attend. What I like about the “new” school is that it is even smaller than the original one! It’s a tiny, even more historic (1904) old schoolhouse atop a hill just four streets over from the first school. Her kindergarten teacher is a gal I even know who is just a few years older than me. She was actually a teaching assistant in one of my college classes while she was getting her Master’s and I was getting my Bachelor’s.
In addition, her husband is a commercial fisherman and they have three daughters, making them a fishing family like us. I was even on the same salmon seine crew with her husband years ago on my dad’s boat up in Southeast Alaska!
I feel comfortable knowing Eva will be in the hands of someone I know personally and who understands our lifestyle and Daddy’s comings and goings. Between G’s rigorous fishing schedule and the impending arrival of a new baby in January, Eva has a big year ahead and I like that I won’t have to keep explaining to someone exactly the way we operate.
So, I’m filling out Eva’s kindergarten paperwork and assessment information, Vincent’s preschool paperwork, getting the kids to the doctor for appointments and vaccinations, and trying not to feel anxious about Wednesday September 7, when we find out if this new baby is a girl or a boy.
Oh, and did I mention I’m also trying to get used to the idea of selling my fun little Infiniti G 35x? That’s right. Eva, Vincent and I currently cruise all over town in my sporty car, but it will be too tight with three kids/carseats and a momma.
Bye bye, little car.
George and I have researched several seven-passenger SUVs, crossovers, and mini vans for the kids and me. We’ve looked at, test driven, and considered the Toyota Sequoia, Highlander, and Sienna, the Honda Odyssey and Pilot, the Acura MDX, the three-row Volvo, and the Ford Flex.
The good news right now is we are escaping town and my Mom’s Plan-It desk calendar for a week before the madness begins. We’re going to bunker in at the coast where we don’t have Internet or cell coverage. Hello to my parent’s beach house, my books, bacon and sourdough toast for breakfast, and wearing jammies all day. Can’t wait! :)
Here are a few pictures from the last month or two; as usual, the picture quality isn’t very good because my iPhone is a couple years old. The iPhone 5 is supposedly coming out in October so I’m still holding out for that version, as it comes with an 8 mega pixel camera and flash.
Eva with the map of Puget Sound she created at art camp.
Eva's map featured the Strait of Georgia, which we told her helped Daddy find his way home from Alaska! :)
My little pirates at our friend Danielle's pirate birthday party in July.
The scariest face painting I've seen in a while, courtesy of the farmer's market at the Village Green.
Bike helmets and jammies on a summer morning. What could be more fun?
Vincent's little John Deere 4th birthday party in July.
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G Has Arrived…Will Summer Follow Suit?
Well, I’ve finally made it to the second trimester, but I’m not feeling any improvement in yucky pregnancy symptoms yet. I feel awful most days, which accounts for the continuing delay in blog posts! The good news is that so far, all blood tests and ultrasound measurements show a healthy little baby in the works, so that is a relief.
In each ultrasound, the baby’s been flipping and twirling around, which is amazing to see. At the last one, the baby even appeared to give me an excited wave with its tiny hand before the machine was shut down. I keep that image in my mind when I start feeling sick and frustrated. I won’t be able to find out whether it’s a girl or a boy for seven more weeks.
George and the crew arrived home last Saturday. They arrived in port accompanied by rolling thunder several hours earlier than expected. I knew they were going to be early, but I was a bit startled when I looked out my window and saw the boat coming across the bay. You couldn’t miss it; the rows of bright orange buoys tethered on top of the substantial steel shack can be spotted miles away.
My heart pumped with excitement as the kids and I flew out the door, down the stairs, and into the car in a race to the finish. Who would be the first to arrive at the harbor; George or me?! George won by less than ten minutes.
The next day, they unloaded the final halibut delivery (George took some pictures for me, seen below) and the kids and I went down to visit later in the afternoon. Vincent has been asking to drive the boat for the past few months, so G waited for us before moving the boat over to its normal spot in the harbor.
The kids wore their life jackets and boarded the boat, settling into the wheelhouse with Dad. The crew was cute and played along; after the lines were untied and they were ready to move away from the dock, Bryan yelled “All clear, Vincent!” up to the wheelhouse. That made me laugh.
I met them over at the dock across the harbor where I climbed aboard. Johnny showed the kids around the deck and answered their questions and Brett gave them donuts while we all got caught up on the past few weeks and months.
The post halibut/blackcod gear work finished up in what seemed record time, and the crew was picked up by friends, girlfriends, and wives within four days. Now, if our summer would only begin…it’s cloudy, windy, and cold today. Vincent has a bad cold and stayed home from preschool. I love November in July!
The Light At The End Of The Blackcod Tunnel’s In Sight!
I know I’ve been going a while longer in between posts, and it’s not that I don’t have anything to write or say (that would be a cold day in you-know-where!). It’s just that every time I sit down to type something, this 11-week old pregnancy nausea kicks in and I just can’t do it. It’s still pretty bad and again, much worse than I recall with the first two children.
I do remember that this horrible feeling did go away at week fourteen each time, though, so I hope that within a couple of weeks I will feel a lot better. I think G feels for me; he’s called me twice from sea via satellite phone which is something he does not do. I can’t even get him to pick the phone up 95% of the time on the rare occasion I call it!
Anyway, the first time he called, I wasted no time whining about how awful I’ve been feeling, how overwhelmed with the house and getting kids to and from activities, taking care of dogs, doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, shoveling dog poop, and everything else that we married single mothers do mostly alone. I said there was so much to do, I didn’t even know where to begin. Further, even if I knew where to begin, I was too tired to do so.
This is not like me at all, and nothing l’d say except when pregnant (or the kids and I are all sick). I come from stoic and hard-working stock on both sides of my family. We don’t whine and we don’t cry over being alone or working hard. But, hey. Sometimes it sneaks up on you. And the minute I heard G’s voice, it did.
“Just pay the bills, Hon,” George said. “Get the mortgage and credit card paid. Get the bills paid on time and don’t worry about the rest. And there will be checks arriving; get those in the bank. Do those things first and I’ll help you with the rest when I get home.”
“That’s not a lot of help,” I sniffed. “You won’t be home for like two months.”
“Actually, I’ll be home in about two weeks,” he said.
I was too ill too express much relief and joy over the news right then and there, but I’m thrilled. G and crew caught the halibut and blackcod quota quickly this year and the fish were big. Both of those things are excellent, especially the part where he comes home around three months earlier than last year.
Now, not only will G be around to help out for a bit without having to rush and get the boat ready for the next fishing season, but he’ll be able to attend the county fair with the kids and me, watch the kids’ swimming lessons, and even go to my parents’ beach house for a mini vacation. He’ll also be able to view an ultra sound in a few weeks and be there when we found out if our unexpected baby-in-the-making is a girl or a boy.
