A swift smack

This is twice now.

Twice in eight years.

For the past four days, I have been bemoaning the current status of a Tribe Called Hall. The toddler boy Mac and his Mommy will move up to my parent's in two weeks. A few weeks after later, the little girl Pancake will follow. After about two month's time, Mr. Hall will join us.

Long ago we had made a pact that I wouldn't spend weekends alone with my parents. It was too stressful for me. He should always be there. As a buffer and sanity saver. But he can't come up right away. How am I going to live with them without him?

He stays behind to ready the house for sale. We will see each other on weekends and the drive will be brutal. Four hours. But, my job has to start because the loans are roaring back.


sigh.


And that song up there, in two paragraphs, is what I have been singing for four days. He has listened and stepped it up husband wise. Taking extra care by rubbing the feet, doing the dishes and letting me take the second shower of the night. More hot water that way. I still don't quite understand how that works.

Then, as I started the song tonight, I turned to hang up my jacket. And it happened for the second time in eight years. A swift smack on the bottom.

He spanked me.

And he is really strong. It really, really hurt. It was as singular surgical strike. I buckled.

Then he calmly said, "Look, this is wonderful. All this change is bringing us, the kids, to a better life. You know that you are good at this job and yes it will be hard at first as we move and you learn the ropes but really, suck it up. This is only temporary, all that matters is that we are moving forward. There is nowhere but up."

I believe that is technically called knocking some sense into someone. Mr. Hall has a very husbandly way of handling me. Of helping me get over my crazy whiny energy. Very strong, very deft. All alpha and all love.

And he is right. This is awesome. I love what I will be doing and dammit if I haven't worked so hard to get here. My kids get all sorts of GranmaGranpa love. My parent's and I have actually discussed ways to not kill each other. They have promised to let me cook the 'healthy stinky' food. They are actually being tender about the whole deal.

And it is nothing but awesome. I have the hand print to prove it!