I'm Goin' Down to the St. James Infirmary.....

Last week, I honestly thought I wasn't going to make it to Friday. As each day passed and the federal budget crisis reached it's climax with the near certain government shutdown looming, I lost more and more sleep. I started every day by taking two Excedrin with about four cups of coffee. And not that weak Folgers stuff either, but good ole' Dunkin' Dark.
A couple weeks back, I planned a surprise date night for Chris and I. We hadn't done anything special in, well, probably since the last time we saw the Nutcracker in Amarillo which was over nine years ago. Yes, we've been on date nights since then (I'm not THAT bad a wife), but it's always been the stereotypical dinner and a movie. If you're married, you know the kind of evening that becomes.
(As you're climbing in the car, kid free for the first time in months)
"Soooo, where would you like to eat?"
"I don't care, I'm just starving. Wherever you want, babe."
"Ugh... I really don't care either. (short pause) Is there anything in particular you DON'T want?"
"No, not really. Like I said, I'm just starving. I could eat anything."
(long pause while each one hopes the other just suddenly gets a VERY specific craving)
"Chinese?"
"Ummm... anything else?"
"Italian?"
"Ehh"
"Seafood?"
"No, that doesn't really sound good tonight."     So much for not caring.......
"Well I don't know. I really don't care so you pick since I gave you options and you shot them down."
"Are you mad at me?"
"No.... just trying to figure out what it is that you DO want."
"I don't care."     AAAUGHHH!!!!!

After about ten minutes of driving around aimlessly, trying to not get too frustrated and ruin the only night you've had away from the kids in about seven months, you give in and go to an old stand by, somewhere lame that has something for everyone, like Chili's or TGIFriday's for instance.

An hour later you've started chewing on your mediocre steak, you're still waiting on that refill but your waitress is too distracted by the table full of frat boys who are so loud you can't hear yourself chew much less hear your spouse, when the next "date killer" question rears its ugly head.
"So, what do you want to do after this?" is yelled across the table.
"I don't know, what do you want to do?"

This, of course, is a lie. You know exactly what you want to do. You want to go hear an amazing band play live in an equally amazing little dive downtown. You want to escape to the waterfront and just sit in silence, listening to the waves lap up on the shore. You want to run as fast as you can from that sorry excuse for a restaurant and go somewhere trendy... or quiet... or not quiet but not obnoxious and just all-around dripping with awesomeness. But, sadly enough, you don't get out much. Between kids and work and the house and everything else that goes on every day, you have no time to sit in coffee bars and chat about the last show at Engine House No. 9, or research food blogs all day to find out precisely which little French restaurant in the Pearl District has the most "to DIE for" pots de creme. It's pathetic, really, especially living in the cultural mecca that is the I-5 corridor.

"Want to see a movie?"     Do I? No. Do you? Probably not, but I got nothin'.
"Sure!" (said with surprise at your sudden decisiveness)

And of course, as you pull out your smart phone (an oxymoron in my opinion), the frustration mounts.

"Here are our options: Saw XXVIIIIIIIIII, talking animals, another Jennifer Aniston romantic comedy that just makes me feel really sorry for her, some movie about sex, and several movies with B actors shooting each other and blowing stuff up."

By the end of the evening, all you want to do is go home. Of course it has nothing to do with the time you were able to spend with each other, but more about spending $100 (or more if you have three kids at $5 per hour EACH) when staying home and cooking steaks on the grill and settling down to an old classic like Tombstone or Bad Boys 2 or even Sweet Home Alabama would have been much more satisfying.

This is exactly the situation I wanted to avoid. I wanted a "for real" date night. The kind that requires thought and planning. So I thought....and I researched....and I thought more... and did even more research until I finally settled on an evening at the historic Pantages Theater in downtown (hip, trendy) Tacoma. I purchased tickets for the most popularly reviewed live music/dance show, "Ma Maison", by the Trey McIntyre Project featuring the pentacle of New Orleans jazz, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. I googled them, I downloaded their music, I was hooked. I could not wait for April 8th to get here.

Until April 6th got here, then April 7th. The stooges up on Capitol Hill still hadn't gotten over themselves and figured out a budget that would include pay checks for soldiers. I kept telling myself (and ALL my friends and family that were calling) that everything was going to be ok. We'd make it work. God would provide. But as it came down to the wire, April 8th was looking more bad than good. I was afraid to get my nails done like I wanted because what if we didn't get paid. I had Chris cut my hair (he did an excellent job by the way) instead of going to my usual place because what if we didn't get paid. I really wanted to get a new dress or (more like and) shoes, but didn't because what if we didn't get paid.

I was laying awake staring at my phone on the nightstand when its alarm went off at 6:30 the morning of April 8th. I so wanted to bounce out of bed in excitement, but I couldn't. I rolled out, quietly found my way to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. That entire morning, my stomach was in knots. The tickets were non-refundable, but maybe they'd make an exception for poor military folk. Or maybe I could sell them on Craigslist. But I really didn't want to. I REALLY wanted to go! The whole situation was only made worse when someone somewhere remembered that soldiers pay checks have to be cut by noon on the 8th of every month and hopped online to check their LES (that's Leave and Earnings Statement for all you non-military folks) only to discover that the midnight deadline the feds had given themselves didn't really matter. We had already lost half our pay. Chris texted me this awesome news as soon as he found out and within minutes my facebook page was splattered with angry posts from Army friends.

I stood in my kitchen with a decision to make. Let this situation continue to literally make me sick and exhausted, or listen to my own advice and let go and let God. I took a deep breath, prayed a short prayer asking God to bless us and our friends during this difficult time, then gathered up the kids and happily delivered lunch to Chris. Everything was going to be ok. When we got to the hospital to drop off the food, even better news arrived! If I didn't mind hanging out for a few minutes, Chris could come with us. Of course I didn't mind! For one, Bonnie was asleep which hardly ever happens and secondly, I'd never pass up an opportunity to spend time together as a whole family (or pass up help at the grocery store). We ran our errands, came home and got ourselves all spiffy, fixed dinner for the sitter and all the kids, then headed out the door on our date.

Surprisingly, it was the least stressed I'd felt in a very long time. I didn't tell Chris where we were going or what we were doing. I programed my GPS to give directions to the parking garage, but that was it. I do believe he was genuinely surprised and excited when he realized we were going to the Pantages. Since the tickets were already purchased, he had no idea what we were going to see until I spilled the beans right as the house lights were signaling that it was time for everyone to take their seats.

We were up in the nose bleed section because I could only afford the $40 tickets and not the $80 ones, and we were squeezed between two groups of old people and could barely breath much less stretch out... but none of that mattered because it was everything I hoped it would be. The music was probably the best live performance I've heard and the dancers were phenomenal. The sounds, the colors, the movement..... finally, all-around dripping with awesomeness : )

We sat together holding hands while everyone else left for intermission. As I was about to consider getting out my phone to check the news, Chris' went off. A friend had texted him to let him know a budget had been passed. We'd be getting paid!

We came home to a very happy Ingrid (our sitter, whose husband is currently in Germany waiting on his orders to bring her and the kids over). She had heard the good news as well, so we adults partook in a good old fashioned rum and coke, completely oblivious to the chaos of five kids who were not supposed to be awake. Ingrid and the kids crashed on the couch that night and when my alarm went off at 6:30 Saturday morning, I don't even remember shutting it off. We ALL slept great : )

If "Ma Maison" is ever in your backyard, take the time to go see it. Even if you might not get paid.