Things have really been shaken up here in the old homestead over the last couple of months. St. Hubby, casuality of corporate downsizing, lost his job in September. Ten years of seniority just wasn't enough. He still has his military gig, and fortunately, we have always gotten our health benefits through that. But Junior, certainly worth every penny and then some, had eaten considerably into our savings. We had kind of become a paycheck-to-paycheck household over the last year.

So Holy Crap, Batman! We we just an Oprah show away from middle class to homeless? Would we start to bicker, fight, blame each other? Would we (*gasp*) have to move in with my mother? This whole thing had us really rattled...

St. Hubby had been miserable at work. MISERABLE. He often worked 60 hours a week, between his military and civilian jobs. It was not a rare occurence for him to work 26 days in a row. And he was away from home a lot. He never complained (soldier's mentality), but I could see it in his eyes. Really. His beautiful baby blues had been missing something for a long time.

So for a temporary fix, I picked up a couple of extra shifts at work. (God Bless the nursing shortage.) I worked three 12 hour shifts one week, and 3 more the following week. St. Hubby stayed home, thought about job prospects, and got to know his son. Starting over in corporate America (especially at his - ahem - seasoned age) was a bleak prospect. It did not excite him at all. And undoubtedly, he would be taking a huge paycut, starting all over again. he fretted, and worried. I comforted and was optimistic. He didn't want corporate America? We would find something else. He argued we had no other chocie. My annoying Laura Ingalls Facing The Blizzard We Will Get Through This attiditude reminded him there was always a choice. 

And 2 weeks later, when I got my paycheck, voila. There was the answer. Right there, preceeded by a dollar sign. Turns out, I make a shit load of money. A mean a veritible poop load. I guess all my years of experience and speciality pay caught up with me. This was not readily obvious, working as sporadically as I did previously. I made more in 6 days of working than he did in 2 weeks. Who knew? When I handed him my paystub, I said "We can now afford to do what ever it is you want to do." He looked at me, looked at the paystub, looked at me, and said "I want to be a history teacher and coach soccer on the side and have weekends and holidays off so I can be with my family."

Done. He is now one great stay-at-home Dad, working on his teaching certification.

We are one happy family, rolling along, and I thank God that I can thank God that he lost his job...