Hawaii, house-hunting, and a slice of humble pie

Anthony has finally decided on a "wish." For those of you don't know, my brother was diagnosed in December with Hodgkins Lymphoma. Because of this, he has been given the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be granted a wish by the Make a Wish Foundation. After much angst and deliberation, he has finally decided that he wants to take the family for a week long trip in Hawaii. He is able to take my parents and sister free of charge; if we go, they will set everything up but we hand over a check. 

At first, I was completely committed to making it happen; I even told Adrian that we would be there come hell or high water--meaning we would forgo moving out for a while in order to lay on those white beaches. Now, I'm kind of wishing I would have bitten my tongue. The days are flying by and we are no closer to being on our own again than I am to my goal weight (which obviously is far off...). I miss my clothes, my shoes, the comfort of my very own bed that are in storage; I miss my brand new pots and pans, the uncomfortable couch, and our older-than-dirt dresser.


In an effort to appease my family while still satisfying our desire to reunite with our belongings, we're going to take it day by day. Once the budget has been decided for the trip, we'll decide if we can afford it while living on our own. If we can, we can. If not, such is life. Both of us have been to Hawaii so I don't feel as bad!

On the house-hunt front, we're going to start hitting it hard. Ideally we'd like to be moving by mid-May; I think that's pretty reasonable and I have to admit, I'm counting down the days. Not that I don't appreciate the generosity we've been shown, but I am ready. The question is, where do we go? Do we stay in the country-but-not-too-country town of Alpine or settle in the hip, quirky neighborhoods of North Park? 

Adrian and I are extremely concerned with the long-term effects of staying in East County for Gabriel. I have seen firsthand, and Adrian is quickly seeing, what happens to young men that get trapped on the mountain. Not that this area does not produce functional human beings, as I am the result of 13 years in a community where the options we had were this or that: get high in the bushes or find a more constructive outlet. I refuse to take that chance with my son and future children. I love Alpine, and a few other places here in East County. However, the real tie we have that is physically keeping us here is daycare. As soon as that situation can be changed, we will be out of here. 


Aside from Craigslist searching and Priceline browsing, things have been quite uneventful. Adrian is away tonight in Calexico hopefully nailing jobs that will put a little love in our bank account. This past weekend we were overjoyed to visit with his best friend Jimmy who was taking the Police Academy test here in San Diego. We met up at the Wave House for drinks and a light lunch; it was so relaxing and fun! They have a man-made circulating wave where boarders can try their luck at various twists and flips within a certain time frame. While watching these bleached hair, sun kissed dare-devils, I was simultaneously feeding Gabriel; I muttered to Adrian, "Milk...," assuming he'd understand, I just wanted Gabriel's sippy. He emphasized a "Please." I realized my mistake; I have never intentionally, at least to my knowledge, disrespected my husband. Not when we were dating, nor into our marriage. I forget sometimes, get caught up in my role as a mother, that he is a man who deserves some attention, loving words, and a bit of kindness. 

As a wife, it's important to treat our husbands the same way we'd treat someone of great stature, with respect. I'd like to think I'm not the only one who makes the occasional oversight. I know I get caught up in the diapers, the cooking, the laundry...basically anything other than my husband. His comment was a needed, albeit a little frigid, reminder to start loving him a little more.