I have a husband, and I actually like him.

So, I guess it's been about a year since my husband and I went out. It was the last time I got pregnant. I can't even remember who watched our daughter that night. We went out with the usual babysitter to see Lou Reed, so obviously it wasn't her.

Yes, we had our first "date night" in over a year. This wasn't out of macho-mommyism, it was only out of practicality. While I was pregnant I was lucky to make it through an episode of "Friends" without passing out in the papasan chair. Once the baby arrived it was the "leave my child with a stranger? ARE you out of your MIND?" syndrome.

Unfortunately, because we can't remember who watched our oldest the night we went out, and because we started hanging out with the old baby sitter, our choices are limited to strangers. This is what happens when you rip up your roots. Not only did I rip them up, I landed in a strange little town where everybody's a "healer" or a naval gazer, and it's not shocking to call someone's answering machine to hear "Welcome to the porch, the naked porch". We actually had a tenant in our guest house request that we re-grate the driveway because it was messing with her chi.

We were more daring with our oldest. Or maybe more desperate. I remember having a sitter come to our house. She was a perfectly charming person with great referrals from our handy-man. That is, until she started talking about "the aliens". This was not a simple haphazard comment. She had the whole thing down... the "reptilians", the "blackies", etc.
My husband is a big fan of talking with people about this stuff. We started our date night an hour late because of it.

So, now you are making the connection, yes, we actually did go. We actually left our daughter with this woman for a night. I remember sitting in the car and looking at my hubby and him looking at me, "do you think it will be alright?"

We knew where the woman lived, we knew her neighbors. Where we live, it's quite common for otherwise normal people to talk of alien life, or have seen alien life, or to have been abducted and "probed" by aliens. My husband made an entire radio talk-show out of it for a while. So we drove away.

If it's not aliens, it's some other eccentricity. Our oldest's first babysitter was the wife of the son of Elizabeth Taylor (I didn't know this until much later), she simply loved babies. The second was my husbands extremely bi-polar friend and his girlfriend. The third was the alien lady. We actually used her more than once. The reason we stopped using her was that she was a general pain in the ass, complained about how difficult the VCR was to use, complained about the steps, complained about misc. other things, and finally we came home one night to find our daughter wide-awake on the bed with the woman snoozing beside her.

Is it just here? Are sitters that are sane and reliable hard to find elsewhere? What happened to the days of high school girls wanting to babysit for a buck an hour? Good wholesome girls, with no interest other than watching kids. Oh god, what am I saying. I know what happened, and I am happy for it. Go girls, get the gold... you'll end up watching kids anyhow when the time comes, AND bringing home the bacon, AND doing the laundry, AND fixing the car.

I am actually all for my child care provider getting more than anyone else. I think they are a valuable asset and should be paid properly, but I also hate to break the bank just to get reacquainted with my husband. This is why we NEVER go see a movie when we have a sitter. I can't see spending fifty bucks to sit facing forward watching something with someone that I never get to talk to.

We are like long lost friends that see each other all the time but never connect. We make an effort to sit in my studio at night and drink a glass of wine together and talk after the kids are asleep (a couple of times a week). I value this time, but the place is not optimal. I look at the computers and have a nasty habit of asking him a question, and if he doesn't know the answer, jumping up to do a quick Google search. How annoying...

It's amazing that we conceived a second child at all. The oldest was still sleeping in our bed at the time. The baby wasn't conceived there (sick), it was on the living room floor (not sick, but not all that comfortable either). We've actually rented cheap hotel rooms for this very purpose. Where do you go when you can't be in your own bed? I suggested parking, but my husband did NOT grow up in the suburbs, where there are places for this. L.A. isn't conducive to parking, so he'd never experienced it, and really wasn't into it's cramped style (literally). So a cheap hotel it is, and I would suggest it to any married couple, however trampy it may seem (or maybe that's the appeal).

I remember one of the times my parents were in town and watching our oldest. We took a trip to a spa with wonderful outdoor tubs, then took a long drive in the woods where we saw a herd of wild horses (for real), then we ended the day in a cheap motel, in a cheap town on the way home. I will remember it forever, it was a perfect day.

The great thing about having a date with your husband is don't need to put on any kind of a front. You are not thinking about whether or not there will be a second date (or third or fourth). You can simply enjoy each other's company. When children are added to the mix, one of two things happens: 1. It breaks you up (do to several factors that are really clear to me, but for another post), or 2. It puts some time in between the quality moments and adds to rediscovery when you actually do get that precious time alone.

So, aliens, cheap hotel rooms, it's all worth it in the long run. After all, when I first met my husband, he drove me to the "premier alien abduction spot" in the middle of the desert (after I had had a few beers). This was our first date. And THAT story is for another post.