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Happy Mother’s Day!
What a great Mother’s Day. I knew the kids and I would be alone on this day, and I hoped that we would have a nice time. The good news is that we had a wonderful Mother’s Day weekend together!
I am thankful for the preschool and kindergarten teachers of Eva and Vincent; they facilitated the making of Mother’s Day cards and thumb print keychains, threw a party, and helped the kids write stories and draw pictures of and about Mom that broke my heart, made my day, and made me smile.
The stories and pictures about Mom also made me panic! I’ve learned just this year that it is unnerving to have your children answer questions for their teachers about Mom for their Mother’s Day gifts. Whoa. I froze for a moment when I saw the questions Vincent filled in about Mom for his card and pictures. I froze again when I read the card and questions Eva filled out!
“What is your mom’s favorite thing to drink? How old is Mom? What do you love about Mom? What is Mom’s favorite thing to do?”
Eeks! Well, in an edited summary…according to Vincent, I’m nine years old. My favorite things to eat are chicken legs and shrimp. He loves me because I teach him how to write and “I’m good at writing.”
According to Eva, I “let her help take care of the baby.” Her favorite thing is when I cuddle with her.
To celebrate Mother’s Day, Eva and I got pedicures while I held little Valerie. Then, the four of us (Eva, Vincent, Valerie, and me) went to church and then to the pool, where we enjoyed a rare May Pacific Northwest sun.
George wasn’t home (he’s in King Cove, Alaska, where it’s 30-degrees and water hoses are frozen). I didn’t get time off from being “Mom”, no flowers came to my doorstep, no dishes or laundry or dinner were done for me.
But I enjoyed the greatest Mother’s Day gift ever—time with my children. The little ones put extra effort into getting along and behaving, were excited to present me with their gifts, and we all enjoyed an afternoon of warmth, love, and fun.
Happy Mother’s Day to all!
Finally, a Phone Call From Sand Point. Ten Days Down…
One thing about me that bugs George to no end is my rather untimely way of getting to the bills. It wasn’t always this way; having a touch of OCD and understanding the importance of responsible finances, I always made sure I knew how much was in my accounts and each penny was accounted for. I also sent in my bills on time, for I didn’t want to put even the slightest dent in my good credit.
As the years have gone by, though, I’ve become increasingly slower and less interested in getting to the bills and balancing the household checkbook. (Never mind the business accounts; George doesn’t let me NEAR those!) I don’t know; I think it’s the limited amount of time I have to sit at my desk and open envelopes, review their contents, write checks, seal and stamp envelopes.
Having three children, including one infant, doesn’t leave one with much desk time. Oh, and when I do find time to sit at my desk, there are other things I’d rather do, like Facebook…and this blog…maybe a little Twitter thrown in for fun. Ha.
George has put as many bills as he can on autopay and when he’s home, he just takes over all the accounts to make sure everything is done on time. So when it is time for him to leave home, he gets a little nervous about leaving me in charge of the remaining bills.
“Please pay the bills on time while I’m gone,” he said before he left for this year’s blackcod and halibut season. “Please!”
George doesn’t ask too much of me, so I said I would definitely try to stay on top of it.
Valerie slept this morning for a bit, so I took the opportunity to get to those bills. When I opened the checkbook, I discovered a sticky note George left for me with instructions on which bills to pay and out of which checkbook. Lol! That’s my guy. Well, he needn’t worry; I managed to pay all the bills this morning and even balanced the checkbook. One month of bills down, two or three more to go.
Now that I’m truly the only parent on duty, I’ve started having ridiculous mom nightmares each night. Terrible dreams that don’t even make sense, like I can’t remember where to pick up my children or at what time. Or dreams in which I have a child with me one minute, and then I turn around and she’s gone.
I had one ludicrous nightmare already this week in which I’d become a loser mom who spent an entire day at the local casino, won $100 and was so excited that I lost all track of time and never made it back to town to pick up my children from school. Okay—now, I don’t even gamble (we work too hard for our money to throw it away!) and I obviously would never waste an entire day at a casino or forget about my children! For Pete’s sake.
These nightmares scare me because I am the exact opposite. I check on my children multiple times when they’re playing in our own backyard. I know exactly where they are, what they’re doing, and who they’re with at all times during the day. I get up and check on them several times during the night. And when I’m the sole parent on duty, I’m hyper vigilant. This is my subconscious rearing its ugly head while I’m asleep, and I don’t really appreciate it.
I finally got a chance to talk to G yesterday. I hadn’t heard from him in over ten days and was starting to worry a bit, but I abide by the saying that no news is good news. I didn’t know if he was going to start out in Southeast Alaska, the Gulf, or head all the way out west, so I just waited. Turns out he’s starting out west which takes a long time to get to, and he called me once they made it to Sand Point. He said the weather was good so they were going to get right out and get to it.
Here’s hoping they get on the fish quickly and wrap up that part of it sooner rather than later. Fishing out west is no fun; I’ll feel better once they move into the Gulf and then Southeast. It was good to hear his voice, though, and now maybe my subconscious will settle down a bit.
Like this:
I Love My Crew of Three
Bye bye, Dungeness crab pots. See you in another seven months!
Our Dungeness crab season 2012 has come to an end. The season picked up midway through, so G and the crew ended up fishing longer than we all expected. Upon their return, the sun came out for a couple of days which was perfect for all the gear work they do to wrap up the crab season and get ready for the halibut and blackcod longline season.
The kids love nothing more than to go visit with Daddy and the gang down at the harbor, so we spent some time down there and G 
let the kids ride along with him on the forklift, putting the crab pots away and bringing out the longlining tubs.
The switch into the next commercial fishing season is going to be quick; G will have one week at home before leaving for Alaska. Once he goes, we won’t see him again until summer. That’s over three months that I will have alone as a mother of two young children and one infant.
Pizza with the crew.
Crab pots put away, longline tubs come out.
I am a little nervous about the months ahead of me, but I managed to make it through the crab season pretty much the same way (solo) so I’ll just take it one day at a time like I always do and not look too far ahead. I’m hoping the sun will come out and that it won’t rain for the next three months, because that would really help things.
The kids and I have settled into a pretty good routine that works well if nothing else is added to it, like an outside obligation or a sickness. Being the only parent on hand and in charge of all medications, laundry, meals, clean up, activities, and school stuff for three children 24/7 is doable, but only if I pace myself. For the next three months, I will attempt to not take on other obligations other than the most important one right in front of me; being a strong and happy mother of three children while Daddy is gone. We’ve done well so far and I’m proud of all of us, so I know we will do just fine in the weeks and months ahead.
I actually love having three children! I laugh to myself quite often, especially in the car, when I have all three of them with me. It feels surreal; like I’m driving a small bus full of little people, and it cracks me up. And at home, there is always somebody doing something, or saying something, or 
drawing something, that either warms my heart or makes me laugh. There’s a warm little baby for me to hold, three little ones around for me to hug and smother with kisses, and say “I love you!” to.
So, we will enjoy this last week with G, and then it’s onward and upward. The children and I will get by with a little help from our friends…and my parents…and my sisters…and my blog friends…and my Facebook friends…and sunshine…and…knowing we’ll have the summer ahead to spend with Dad!
Happy Two Months, Valerie!
Like this:
A Commercial Fishing Family’s Worst Nightmare.
One subject I don’t spend a lot of time writing about on this blog, although it’s a blog about fishing families, is the ever–looming threat to fishing families of deaths and disaster at sea.
You may have heard by now about the Lady Cecelia, a trawler out of Oregon, that went down (sank) in a matter of seconds seventeen miles off the coast of southern Washington, taking all four crewmembers with her. Unless you have a direct tie to commercial fishing and fishermen, you may have shrugged off the story and the catastrophe as just another boat, just another crew, just another run of bad luck in the industry.
But when you are profoundly connected to the industry and you look at a picture like the one included in the article, you stop. You stare. You look intently into the face of one of the men that was lost and you see your own husband, your dad, your brother. If you are a fisherman, perhaps you halt for a moment, seeing yourself.
You continue to look at the picture and see the two-year old boy, dressed just like his daddy in Xtra Tuffs and orange rain gear, sitting on Daddy’s lap on the boat. Your heart overflows with grief and sorrow that this daddy, whom the child clearly adores, is now lost. Maybe in the little boy you see your own little son or daughter, your grandchild, or your nephew.
One reason I don’t write much about the potential for and reality of tragedy in our profession—one of the world’s most deadly professions—is because I can’t. The thought is always in my mind as I go about my day and drift off to sleep at night. Having already lost my brother-in-law fifteen years ago to the sea during an Alaska crab season (you can read a bit about him here), the memory of that horror and disbelief lives on in my heart. I don’t like to bring it to the forefront by writing often about it.
As a grandchild, child, wife, sister, and mother in a fishing family, and as someone who has actually fished, I have to get distance from the risks and possibilities. I can’t dwell on the “what ifs”. I have to stay focused on the day-to-day; my children to care for, a household to maintain, pets to feed. I stay busy with my children, my activities, my friends, and family.
Sometimes, though, I wonder. What would I do if I received word that George was lost? If one of the crew was lost? If the entire boat was gone? How would I tell our children? What would I tell them? How would we ever continue?
I think of the practical aspects. Would I keep this house and find comfort in the memories and familiarity of it, or would I find it too large, too sad, and decide to sell it? What would I do about the business-end of things? Our operation is rather involved and complicated, especially for a family fishing operation. Would I understand how to handle the IFQs? What do I do with hundreds of crab pots, a locker full of longline tubs, lines, seine nets, gear, permits, documents, and loans? Besides family, who would I trust to understand and help me in these matters?
I was in my early 20s when my brother-in-law, Danny, died. He and my sister had recently been married and they did not have children. All these years later, I still remember the way well-meaning family and friends, all who’d come to lovingly offer us comfort and condolence, spoke quietly among themselves. I remember one comment I heard again and again.
“At least they didn’t have children.”
As I heard this repeatedly over the days and weeks following the accident, I wondered about it. I’ve continued to wonder about it through the years, going over the comment in my mind and looking at both sides.
“At least they didn’t have children.”
What would be worse, I’ve wondered? Having to look into the precious faces of your young ones and tell them they no longer have a living father? Would it be better to not suffer that grief? Or is it better to have a living piece of your spouse still in the world in the form of little ones with his laugh, his expressions, perhaps even his character?
Last night, our children (Eva, 6, and Vincent, 4) overheard bits and pieces of George and I quietly discussing the tragedies of this week (a total of six fishermen in separate accidents who died at sea on the Washington and Oregon coasts). In particular, the children wanted to see the picture of the fisherman and his son; we did not show it to them.
We knew that if they saw the picture of the fisherman sitting on the boat with his little one in his lap, they would see their own daddy. They would see the other fisherman daddies they know and love; Bryan, and Brett, and Johnny, and Oscar. If they saw the picture of the little boy, they would see themselves and each other. And they would be scared, and they would cry, and they would worry.
But I’ve looked at the picture dozens of times. I choke back tears in silence away from the children, because only the mommies and the daddies should worry. We may keep that worry in the back of our minds or deep in our hearts, we may not talk about it, and we don’t often write about it, but we do. We worry.
All the time.
Like this:
For Valentine’s Day, the Norovirus. How Sweet.
If you suspect someone has the norovirus, run as far and as fast away from that person as you can! Not to be confused with your basic, everyday flu, the norovirus is an instant, violent, ravaging, wicked virus that will take you down before you even realize what is happening.
Right on Valentine’s Day, I suddenly became so sick with this yuck that I lost eight pounds in twelve hours. I had to miss Eva’s kindergarten Valentine’s party, missed Vincent’s preschool Valentine’s festivities, and was only able to give the dozen roses George bought for me barely a glance before they wilted and died.
With my body still weakened by nine months of pregnancy and childbirth less than three weeks before, I guess I was not strong enough to give this hostile virus much of a fight, and it ransacked me. I tell you—I would not wish it upon my worst enemy. After the initial onslought, you still aren’t done. You go on to spend the next few days in bed, unable to stand, while your stomach cramps up and burns like fire.
Wow. Except for last month in the birth center, when the IV fell out of my arm (taking all pain medication with it) and then a fumbling anesthesiologist could not figure out how to insert an epidural just as Valerie shocked us all by suddenly appearing out of nowhere, the virus is the worst pain I have ever experienced. Ever.
The upside is that G was able to hand the boat off to Bryan to take out and run through the Dungeness crab gear for a couple of days (thank you, Bryan!!), and then a storm blew in on the coast so G got to come back home and help deal with the aftermath. I guess I can also be grateful that as a result of all this sickness, I’ve been able to start phasing out my maternity clothes more quickly.
The most amazing thing is that, while Eva and Vincent did get mild cases of the virus, Valerie and George emerged unscathed. I was so worried about Valerie; I don’t know how a three-week old infant could have withstood this. Praise God.
So, that was my Valentine’s Day. Never a dull moment around here! I hope that at least you all enjoyed a pleasant and healthy Valentine’s Day! :) There’s always next year.
Sweet Valerie, dressed in yellow and scrubbed in sunshine. Happy one-month birthday!
Hello, Extreme Exhaustion. I’d Forgotten All About You.
The baby is in her bassinet for a few minutes and the older children have been taken out to dinner by our friends, so I’m taking this moment to let you know that no, I have not abandoned my blog. I’ve simply been taken over by unbelievable exhaustion. Valerie is three weeks old now and I am STILL dashing to my bed or to the couch every possible second that I can.
When I was a younger gal working as a deckhand on my dad’s seine crew, I thought I was deprived of sleep when we’d go to bed at 11 p.m. after reaching the fishing grounds and then wake up at 3 a.m. to get ready and set the net. And then, once Eva was born, I thought I was sleep deprived when I was up every two hours with a fussy newborn. But wow—nothing compares to this!
Being awake all night with a newborn and then getting up to meet the needs of two young children is definitely not easy. Thank goodness for my parents, who are still coming by to take Eva and Vincent to kindergarten and preschool each day. I don’t know what I’d do if I had to have everyone up, ready, and out the door in the freezing cold at 8 a.m. each day after being up all night. I have worked up to doing one afternoon pick-up each day, which makes me feel pretty good.
I’m eager to rejoin the real world again but wow, this no-energy thing is killing me. I also don’t want to consume too much caffeine or other energy-inducing methods since I’m nursing and don’t want to inadvertantly keep Valerie awake any more than she already is.
Valerie is now three weeks old, and George was recently able to make it home for one 24-hour period to visit with the kids and me. I was grateful that he found it worth arriving home at midnight and leaving the next day just to see us, and it was good to see him while he was here.
While not a huge disappointment, the 2012 Washington Dungeness crab season has been nothing compared to last year, which is not entirely unexpected. You can’t expect to have a stellar season every year! Fortunately, George will turn the boat around and head up to Alaska to catch the blackcod and halibut quota as soon as he ends the crab season. Unfortunately, he’ll be heading up to Alaska sooner than we expected. Darn!
If you are one of the people who has written to me via my blog with questions and comments that I have not been able to get to yet, please know that I have received your inquiries and comments and I look forward to replying as soon as I can! Thank you for taking the time to write, and know that your feedback and questions are valuable to me. As soon as I get another moment when I’m thinking clearly, I will respond, maybe even in a blog post.
My goal for this week is to rally long enough to make popcorn for Eva’s Valentine’s Day party at school, prepare a snack for Vincent’s Valentine’s Day party at preschool, and make sure the kids have made enough Valentines for all of their friends. I wonder if George will remember to send roses to me this year? I never hold my breath but I do always hope.
Sweet Vincent hosted a tea party for Eva, Mommy, and Frog.
Eva and Vincent making Valentines.
Dad swaddling the baby on a quick visit home.
Eva's Valentines for the crew.
And Sweet Baby Valerie Makes Five.
Valerie Joy
You may have guessed, based on the amount of time that has gone by since my last post, that our precious baby Valerie Joy has indeed been born. She decided to make a very rapid appearance on January 19, 2012 and was born in literally a matter of minutes! Valerie is a tiny little thing who weighed just 6 pounds, 5.8 ounces at birth and measured 19 inches long.
While at the hospital, she dropped down to 5 pounds 8 ounces, but within just a couple of days was right back up to her birth weight. So far, she is a very mild baby who sleeps quite a bit; and thank goodness for that, because each time she sleeps, I race to my bed and sleep as well.
George was home for the birth (although ironically, he almost missed it; he was eating lunch in the cafeteria with my dad, Eva, and Vincent when Valerie suddenly decided to burst forth. Boy, was he shocked when he ambled back into our room and realized what was transpiring!). George even got to stay for two extra days with me at the hospital thanks to a storm and its accompanying twenty-foot seas that kept the crab boats in the harbor on the official start of the Dungeness crab season.
Sadly, George did leave over a week ago and the kids and I have been holding down the fort. We have had lots of amazing help from my family and friends; everything from school pick-ups and drop-offs, to meals, the sharing of baby supplies, the folding of laundry, and even a slumber party for the kids at the home of our friends.
All of this help has been a surprise and a blessing. I don’t know what I would have done here with a newborn, two other little ones adjusting to not only the arrival of a baby sister but also the departure of their dad, and a household of chores that need to be kept on top of without such help offered to me.
We are off to a good start thanks to so many. George and I also enjoyed some pleasant and uninterrupted time together at the hospital before he left which allowed us to reconnect with each other, enjoy the blessing of Valerie, and get our new family of five off to a positive and peaceful start. I will never forget how sweet it was to spend that time with him in total relief that Valerie had finally arrived safely and soundly, and be able to let go of the worry and anxiety that defined the pregnancy.
I feel such physical and mental relief, such gratitude, the likes of which I’ve rarely felt on this level. My heart sings and leaps for joy each time I look around me and see these three amazing little blessings that God somehow saw fit to allow me to love, cherish, and raise. Astonishing.
Eva holding Valerie at the hospital; her dream come true at last.
Vincent and Valerie. My sweet buddy is slowly adjusting.
Eva swaddled her pink bear.
Like this:
Maybe If I Sled Down a Bumpy Hill….
We are still here at home, waiting impatiently for the arrival of one baby girl. Wow. I have tried almost every safe and natural labor-inducing method known to woman, including two that the doctor and a midwife all but guaranteed would work….but no luck. I know she’s ready; I feel all the familiar signs and symptoms of a newborn preparing a grand entrance, but that’s as far as it goes.
I’m trying to keep busy and I’ve actually gotten a lot done in this last week or so of torturous delay. I’ve ordered and gotten all portraits in frames, ordered a new cradle mattress, finished editing my e-book, received checks for both writing and teaching Jazzercise (I halted teaching at seven months along), organized scrapbook materials, attended the birthday of my dear friend’s son, and even transferred folders, created playlists, updated, and organized my dad’s iTunes account.
I’ve waited impatiently for the snow to arrive, and even it is here now!
One person who is not going to be here much longer, however, is G. I hoped and prayed and crossed fingers that the baby would come a few days early so that George would be here for the birth and a couple of days following. Now, however, unless the baby comes today or tomorrow, G may make the birth but will have to leave immediately afterwards. As in, within hours.
For someone who struggles with anxiety, doesn’t like surprises, and can’t stand the unknown, this has been the most agonizing and difficult nine months of my life. There are no guarantees, no sure answers, and nothing is in my hands. My hope is that after this experience is over, I will look back in time and discover that I’ve grown in character, calmness, and patience by leaps and bounds.
My two snow angels keep me moving forward!
Like this:
May the Dungeness Crab and Baby Party Begin Already!
The boat left with a load of Dungeness crab pots last weekend. Although it is always sad to hug G goodbye and wave the crew off, it’s also kind of a relief. Especially this year. There has been so much waiting, wondering, and anticipation as to when the gear work will end, when the boat will leave for Westport, when the season will start, and if the weather will cooperate.
And of course, this year we have the added anticipation of a baby due on the exact day George and the fellas will dump five-hundred crab pots to the bottom of the ocean, hoping the season will be profitable and safe for the five families—including at least a dozen children combined—who are relying on it.
No pressure!
Ah, what can you do? That’s life, moving forward the way life tends to do.
Here are a few pictures of this year’s Dungeness Crab Season 2012 Departure Day:
What an awesome, sweet, and tough crew we have in Bryan, Johnny, Brett, Oscar, and George.
Precious and resilient commercial fishing kids watching Dad pull away from the dock.
Johnny on top of the pots.
George will have a few days at home in between getting the boat to Westport and when the season officially begins, so here’s still hoping the baby decides to arrive during the window in which he is home.
I’m ready.
The kids’ bedroom switch and redesign is complete; Vincent has cool new bunk beds, Eva has her rainbow/butterfly/flower room. Holidays are over, children are back in school, preschool, and activities. House is clean, Christmas presents are put away, writing invoices have been sent off.
I’m tired of waiting; I’m looking ahead already to springtime, capris, sandals, renewed energy, evenings of sunshine and bayside cocktails, and a body I can actually move with ease and feel comfortable within.
Time to get this party started! :)
I love this picture of Vincent; he looks like he just climbed off a Dutch Harbor fishing vessel.
Goodbye, 2011. Great to Finally Meet You, 2012.
I just hung up my new 2012 kitchen wall calendar and deposited the 2011 edition into the recycling bin. I have to say—I am not sorry to see 2011 go.
It’s not that it has been a bad year; for the most part, it moved along just fine. When I look back, I’m incredibly grateful for the health of my kids and family and a good year of fishing and safety for George and the crew. We had a couple of fun trips; Las Vegas in March and Kauai in April, and plans to start making vacations a more regular part of our routine after not taking any for years.
But then I remember the way our beloved pitbull, Toby, died suddenly last April (the day before we left on our first family vacation in five years) after successfully and healthily beating a cancer diagnosis for three years. George left for Alaska and the halibut/blackcod longlining season soon after, and then shortly after that, I discovered we were unexpectedly expecting again.
Pregnancy sickness lasted throughout the summer, fall, and now into winter, making the challenge of being a seasonally single commercial fishing mom much more difficult than it really needs to be.
I have to say that after dealing with a variety of doctors, various medical offices and front desk staff, nurses, opinions, test results, and appointments for the past nine months, I would be happy to never, ever have to step foot in an office or deal with anyone in the medical profession ever again. I plan to write a much longer essay on the topic later, after I’ve had some distance and can gain perspective on this experience, but for now, all I can think is that I want this to be over.
The good news is that in eighteen days (if not sooner), it will be. Assuming all goes well with delivery and the first few months with baby at home, I will so grateful to have my life, my body, and my peace of mind back.
On the other hand, I now have a better appreciation and empathy for patients who struggle with chronic illness, who are told they have medical issues, troubles that can’t be diagnosed or treated effectively, who are not listened to or treated well by the medical profession, and who must attend appointment after appointment and try to stay pleasant all the while.
I’ve written before that after struggling with the physical, mental, and emotional effects of infertility before we were blessed with our Eva and Vincent, I never dreamed I would have a third baby years later. I also never imagined that after such a wonderful experience with the one doctor who saw me through those first two amazing pregnancies, this final surprise would be so different.
I’m going to spend these last two weeks trying to stay calm, looking forward to delivery, and then getting on with caring for a newborn and my two other children and letting the experience of the past nine months fade away in time.
Moving forward and beyond is something I love to do, and I’m excited and eager to make 2012 a great year.
So, we’ll have this baby girl in January, and then in the spring I will be launching my first e-book right here on this blog and via Kindle and other e-reader formats. Details on the e-book will come in the following months, but I am extremely excited about this new project. The book is currently in design and editing stages and I know it will be something I’m proud of and that many of my readers will find useful.
Speaking of blog readers; thank you to all for making 2011 a record year on Highliners and Homecomings. It’s been fun reviewing blog statistics, reading your comments, keeping an eye on subscriptions, seeing which posts get the most “hits” and which pictures get clicked on the most, reviewing where traffic is coming from and watching numbers rise.
As we head into the fifth year, I want to sincerely thank you so much for the support and the time you take to come over and see or read what’s new.
The best to you as we start this new year—health and happiness to all.
Someone posted this on Facebook. It's not the most eloquent wording, but I think it's a sentiment worth keeping in mind.
