I've Got a Hot Date

I've got a hot date. Not with my bad-boy, leather jacket, cowboy boots wearing, cigarette smoking, alcoholic boyfriend (Anthony Bourdain), my 'I'll give you anything you want from underpants to grated cheese, and take it all back without any hesitation as long as you use your rewards card' boyfriend (Fred Meyer), or my geeky-smart 'I will tell you how to make the best cheesecake, pork loin, or anything else you could ever want to eat and teach you the science of doing it in a way that you'll love it so that you'll want me more' boyfriend (Alton Brown). Nah, I got a date with my husband, Wood.

I warned him, many years ago, that he'd have to promise to be my boyfriend forever if he wanted to marry me. He agreed. But as with many things in our probably better than average marriage, as it turns out, I'm in charge of making him keep certain promises. Like being boyfriend and girlfriend.

Don't get me wrong, we both want to date each other. It's just that things have been kinda off-the-hook insane for the past 4-5 months or so. No, really insane. So insane that the following list is not in correct order. I can't begin to remember the timeline. And as you read, you'll begin to understand why. (not to mention the fact that I typically remember every detail of super-hard-stressful, dare I say bad events, with startling clarity and recall)

Grammy had surgery scheduled, then rescheduled, then barely completed because she was so scared by the prospect. But in the meantime she had several falls, lost about 125 lbs. and was in such ill-health and mental capacity we were really afraid something bad was going to happen. We had to go to LA LA land to be with her twice between July and September and she fought us every step of the way (but claimed she wanted us there).

Wood interviewed for a job in Portland, Oregon just before the canceled surgery was to take place. Then in the middle of Grammy's health debacle, he was offered the job and had to secretly negotiate the terms of the deal. He accepted the job (!!) but didn't tell his mom for some time.

He finally told her - about a week before he moved to Portland. She was kind of devastated.

Some of our closest friends moved to Costa Rica. Our other closest friends didn't take the news of our moving to Portland, on the tails of friends moving to Costa Rica, too well.

My nephew was diagnosed with a rare and extremely aggressive form of cancer and was literally hanging on to his life by a thread and a prayer (a lot of prayer from a lot of people). He spent about 3 weeks in ICU and another week or two after that in the hospital.

My sister (the same sister with the son with cancer) was pregnant with my niece who was diagnosed in eutero with a bi-lateral cleft lip and palate. Did I mention her due date was 10 days after my nephew was admitted to the hospital? And that she's estranged from the dad of the baby? Because he's got domestic violence and child abuse in his past (which she found out well after she got pregnant)? That she delivered the baby when my nephew was sedated and medically paralyzed?

My family had a hard time with the news of our move. And the plan for me and Twig to be with Wood for a week at Thanksgiving was not taken well. My nephew was still in ICU. It was hard, but necessary, to leave.

My house was burglarized the day - actually the exact same time - that I had a phone interview for a job in Portland. Thank goodness the interviewer was late calling me and my neighbor called me to tell me what was happening. And that the interviewer rescheduled the call considering I had to deal with the Police and all.

I was a single mom of a kindergartner who had some behavioral problems at home and school (in a class that didn't have a great teacher), doing all of the drop offs and pick ups, cooking cleaning, shopping, etc. AS WELL AS managing household improvements/repairs so that we could rent our house out once we moved all while my husband lived and worked in Portland.

I quit a great job with fantastic people, stopped exercising, and kind of got used to being on my own again. Which was my biggest fear of living apart for a while. I can be a bit of a recluse and a bitch to live with if left to my own devices.

While there are about 500 other really tough things that happened during that time, and I can't remember (whew!), we're now in Portland reunited as a family, unpacking, starting a new school (with a much better teacher thank-you-very-much), managing challenging behaviors, mourning our losses, celebrating our gains - and addressing the gambit of the issues that go along with a family separated-moving to a new place-now reconnecting...

Hence the hot date.

It's been really cold here at times (literally and figuratively); the date was for us to work on gathering all of our resources to get and stay all cozy-warm. I'm sure that there will continue be a cold front here and there. But as one of my four readers has said so eloquently, marriages have seasons. Some are cold and some are hot. And even though I was born and raised in California, I know that no matter what, it takes work to make it through any severe weather pattern.

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Things on all other fronts are much better now! Nephew's cancer is better - not treated (but no more tumors!), baby is born with only cleft lip (!!), they caught the kid that broke in, I was able to reschedule my phone interview (even though I bombed it), I'm working part time for my fantastic employer in Oakland from Portland for a while, I'm running again, trying to stretch my interpersonal skills and make new friends, I've got the inclination and desire to write, and I've got my family back together again. Equilibrium will begin to show itself sometime soon. GAWD, I hope!