Going on a not-fishing trip

Spring is popping up around me. The flowers that my mom and grandma helped me plant way back in October are starting to push their way up (if those damn cats would stop using my flower beds as litter boxes it would be much prettier, but it is still a happy sight), my yard is now completely snow-free and quickly drying (which is good, because that inch of water that was covering the back yard made for one muddy puppy), and it was 60 degrees when I woke up at 9:30 this morning. I took advantage of the niceness of the weather yesterday and raked some of my back yard- I raked for an hour, realized I was almost to the area of dog poo (not entirely our fault, you see, the snow came very unexpectedly this winter on the exact day we had planned to clean up the back yard) and decided I was tired. I will finish raking when R is home to participate in the dirty work (it was his job to clean up that poo, he put it off until the day of the fateful snow storm).

Our yard really does look miserable right now- twigs and sticks broken off the trees during those evil wind storms, leaves that didn't get raked in the fall because we were gone so often then and when we were home it seemed to always be raining, the siding missing from the eaves of the garage because of a wretched late-winter wind storm. Spring will take some work to look as pretty as it should, but it will be beautiful. Our first spring in the new house, the house we own, our house. It's a wonderful thought, one I didn't expect for quite a while (seriously, I'm 24, R is 26, who buys a house at that age, especially on one income). I am so proud of R for accomplishing as much as he has and providing for our family so well.

Yes, about that title. I leave tomorrow afternoon for an overnight not-fishing trip. Everybody else will be fishing, but I don't eat fish (it tastes yucky), so I'm going to stand back and watch. And I will also be appearing in the role of beer-bitch (don't think of it as condescending, I find it amusing and plan to be the best beer-bitch ever). R will be working, poor Tiffany pup has to stay home with him. A couple friends from Ohio (they just moved there, dammit, they used to only be 3 hours away and I could visit every couple months) will be there, and they are bringing 2 guys with them.

Kev and Jes (my friends, I met Kev when I worked at boyscout camp, Jes is his wife) are two of my bestest friends in the whole world, I am so glad I get the chance to see them. And the fishing cabin is only a little over an hour from where I live, so it's even better than where they lived before. The list of drink is a long one, much longer than the list of food they are bringing (hmmm, bunch of guys fishing, who would have imagined...). I plan to take full advantage of my beer-bitch role, which includes the mixing of drinks, and make mine extremely weak and everybody else's full strength. That seems rude, but they drink, and I do so only rarely, and I really would like to be functional on Wednesday as that night is Little H's school concert. They will have a very large bottle of the blue-raspberry vodka that haunted my photo shoot, it could be a very long night.

*kid talk, beware*

And once the night of debauchery with friends is over, I will return on Wednesday to shower, hopefully nap, and try desperately to look alive and healthy for the concert at Little H's school (a 2 hour drive to get to). The boy is in kindergarten, so there will likely be two short songs sung by his entire grade and the rest of the hour and a half dominated by the older students. R and I will play the role of proud parent with honor! We even purchased a new digital camera especially for the occassion (ok, R really wanted it for the air show this summer- must blog about that, it's awesome- but we ordered it and are having it shipped super fast so that it will be here before the concert). Our little boy is growing up so fast.

I remember the first time Little H slept over at my house. He was only 20 months old, nervous around strangers, barely knew his daddy (R had been deployed for over a year of H's life already). Roy knew what to do: bath time with any toys I could find (I was grown up, all I had around was a collection of stuffed dragons, luckily I found a couple toy dragons that were waterproof) and bubbles. After that, Little H was my shadow, he'd follow me around the house and mimic everything I did. A few months later, R was deployed again and I wasn't allowed to see Little H even once till R came home. A year changes so much. Little H became a kid and not just a little bitty toddler. He had spunk and attitude (he was also a bit of a sissy, but I loved that too because it meant he came running, crying for hugs and to kiss his booboo a dozen times a day, and I would have hugged and kissed a million times if he let me), he was the poster child for "kids say the darndest things." Too cute for words. And now, in school, learning to read (his kindergarten teacher sends home easy books with only the most advanced students, and he's one of them), writing his name and simple words, just exploding into being a boy (not my baby boy anymore, not even a little boy, he's a BOY). That's amazing to me. And it makes me that much more desperate to have a baby, to be able to live every day with that child growing in front of me, not the randomness of Little H's youngest childhood. For now, I will take what I have, I will be thankful for every moment with Little H, that I am a part of his life and his second mother, even though he couldn't have come from my womb. It is an amazing gift to be allowed to participate in the life of a child, to observe and influence. I thank R every day that he loved me enough to ask me to be not only his wife, but also a mother to his son.

See you all on Thursday (unless the camping trip gets extended, which it might, in which case I might just go back on Thursday for another night and therefore see you all on Friday instead)!