Where's my punching bag??

I just have to say I am really, really angry right now about how my husband's job is infringing on our family time. Part of it is the job, part of it is personalities... We had a little spat this morning and I'm still processing it ~ internally and with the man eventually ~ so I won't say more here. But I'm really discouraged.

So, while I'm ruminating, how do you guys keep the weird shift-work schedule and emotional exhaustion from ruining your family and marriage relationships?

More on privacy

Copswife has gotten a good discussion going over on her blog with her recent post about privacy. Given that I recently posted about it too, I thought I'd mention it.

Now I'm going to go flip my burning pancakes. :)

Late again...

**please note. After I wrote this whole post I realized: this may not be a post for you to read if you really worry about your husband's safety in law enforcement. I am pretty honest about my fears and if reading about them will get your fears going, just skip to the last paragraph, or skip this post altogether. There'll be other ones soon, I promise!**

Hero's Wife at The Daily Chase posted her first blog entry today about her husband's first day on the job. She mentioned what we all know as something not unusual -- husband came home late. The accompanying fear that goes along with that is something that many wives of first responders are also highly aware of. I'll get back to that in a second (the fear part). I haven't commented on it yet, but Renee over at LAPD Wife had a recent post which made me laugh out loud because she hit the nail on the head, and it's something I have a really difficult time explaining to all my "civilian" friends: There is always a Plan A (with husband) and Plan B (without husband).

So that's two people who have recently talked about having their husband come home late from work. With that fresh in my mind, guess what happened to me today? Husband was ONE HOUR late coming home, and I didn't hear anything from him. For us, this is highly unusual. If it gets to be half an hour late, he will call or text me to let me know "I'm going to be late." This makes me chuckle of course because, honey, you're ALREADY late. :) But I'm always very very grateful to know that he is OK, just late. When it gets to be one hour late and I haven't heard anything, I call him... and no response means I'm calling dispatch to find out where you are and reporting your sorry self for being an AWOL husband!! (just kidding, I have never done that last part.)

This morning as the minutes were ticking by, I didn't really notice because all three children were awake earlier than I'd like them to be and we were getting ready for the day with our usual level of chaos. The odd thing is, I had actually gotten up even earlier than them, taken a shower & washed my hair (don't fall over!), gotten dressed and was ready *before* them. This is a huge deal, as anyone with three children (one of them being a 2.5 month old) can tell you. :) But every once in a while as I kept checking the clock, I wondered if it was *not* a coincidence that I was awake and ready for the day early. I was actually waiting for a knock or phone call to tell me something had happened to Hubs, and it was God's way of looking out for me that I wouldn't have to stress over one more thing -- being in my pj's -- when I heard from someone at the door that my husband was injured/maimed/killed.

Well, good thing husband walked in just as I was getting ready to call his AWOL self so all of the worrying and reporting was quickly forgotten. It was simply another chance to lay aside my fears for The Big Guy Upstairs to take care of. "Simply" is surely not the best choice of words because as we all know, it's not a "simple" thing to do. In some ways I am always grateful for these types of little "worry" reminders because I move along to things such as: Does he know I love him? Am I loving him and our family moment by moment instead of waiting for something bigger and better to come along in our future? Are his "end of watch" papers in order? Can I get some more life insurance on him? (ha ha) You know... all those things that are easy to kind of brush off to the side when you don't necessarily have death staring you in the face on a regular basis as many first responders do. While death is certain and life is not, as a culture we often act as if it is life that is certain and death that is uncertain. I don't want to take my man or my family for granted. Don't you do it either! :)

Poll

I know, two posts in one week, don't fall over. This is purely a selfish, "poll taking" post. I have used our toaster oven for anything and everything -- as both a toaster and an oven -- and it has finally completely died, after 5.5 years. I should probably investigate repairing it but I'm too lazy so now I'm looking for a new one.

Here's the one I'm salivating over

Unfortunately the cop has nixed the $225 price tag, even though this one cooks for you and wipes your nose. :(

Do you have a toaster oven? Would you recommend it (or not)? What's the make/model?

who ARE you?

If you're a cop's wife, you are probably one private person -- or forced to be one! I know privacy comfort levels vary with as many different colors of LEO uniforms there are out there, but I just wanted to put out some thoughts about privacy as it particularly relates to law enforcement.

I've always been a somewhat private person, especially when it comes to the internet. It's not that I'm not willing to share information or "go deep" with someone, but I don't necessarily want to do it in the typically one-sided form of a blog. I always like to remind myself that anything I write I should be happy having discussed on the 5 o'clock news. So that's me, just for starters.

But now I'm married to a cop. In fact, I live within walking distance of his department, so it's safe to say I live within the jurisdiction where he works. Hm. Think about *that* for a while!! Just last week the kids and I were at the park, and hubs actually came along. (shock of the month!) He noticed that someone driving by slowed down and gave him a dirty look. Of course I was oblivious (or he was having an overactive imagination) but it really got him going. I just brushed it off -- I think I have hero-pedestal complex when it comes to my husband. I figured if it *was* someone coming after him, he would save us and we'd all live happily ever after.

I don't know about the "happily ever after" part but it should make you think... if anyone ever decided they wanted to retaliate against your significant other in the course of his/her job, what's a good way to do that? Get back at the family. How? Well, let's start with a web search. Do you want someone to do a quick search for your husband's name, then find your name, your children's names, the school they attend, pictures of the kids, your phone number, your address....? The list is endless. I'm guessing that if someone who actually *knew* me stumbled on this blog, they might guess it was me. My personality still comes through here. I also have another, "personal", blog but I keep that separate and I have never mentioned the line of work my husband is in when writing on it. It's easy enough to skirt around it and move along. Husband has been out on a walk with us at least once or twice and promptly ditched us as he saw one or another of his frequent clients, whom he didn't want to know that he belonged to us. It kind of makes sense, and when I'm sitting at home in the middle of the night by myself with only some cold steel under my pillow, I appreciate the pains he takes to keep things private and separate from work.

Finally, in case none of that made sense, here is a little bit of a "how annoying!" situation which is only partially related to privacy. I was at an open house a few weeks ago when the realtor (a young man, possibly even younger than me. yikes!) asked me to fill out my contact info on his sheet. I put my name and email address -- easy enough to delete, delete, delete, right? -- but he persisted and really wanted my phone number. I simply said, "No, I don't give out my phone number." To which he replied "I just want to follow up with you about some home buying information." "No, I don't give out my number, but feel free to email me." He had the audacity to say "Oh, look, I know you are married and have kids I just want to make sure I can provide you with the best possible service." He will never, ever get business from me, and my phone number will stay private, private, private!

Speaking of private numbers -- I got a google voice number!!! yay!! This way I can mark my little realtor friend as "spam" in my google voice inbox and never have to listen to him ever again. ha!

ha ha ha

If you haven't read it yet, go read this over at The Dispatcher and Her Officer. I was dying laughing and really could have used the good laugh today. Forget lying to the cops, we just don't need 'em! ha ha ha

You Racist!

With all the talk of "too much information" and the "powers that be" shutting down -- or suggesting the shutting down of -- police blogs (see MotorCop, for just one example), I'll be more or less cryptic about the details of an interesting call DH had on duty last night. So in the interest of helping my husband keep his job, let's just say this is how the call went down:

Boyfriend calls dispatch, his girlfriend has [some problem] as a result of [some surgery]. This was information that dispatch had to drag out of the boyfriend, because the only thing he said was "There is somebody here with [some problem]." Uh, ok...

DH rolls over there to find that this problem, which sounded rather minor (and can be rather minor -- if it's *not* the result of a surgery!) was actually a huge problem. DH asks the boyfriend what the surgery was, and the boyfriend equivocates, giving some other bogus story. No surgery. Uh, ok....

Remember, DH seems to recall that dispatch reported this problem was a result of a surgery. Weird. The paramedic unit arrives and starts their assessment. DH notices that on paper one of the medics has written down [name of surgery]. So DH asks the boyfriend again, "What was the surgery she had?" and the boyfriend again says "no surgery." Uh, ok...

The medics rush to transport the girlfriend (first time DH says he's seem them do this and not a longer in-field assessment -- must have been a big deal??) and allow the boyfriend to ride along (first time he's seen them allow a non-family member to ride along). End of story.

DH gets back to the station and checks with dispatch -- are you SURE that the boyfriend reported this problem as a result of a surgery? Yes... in fact, dispatch replays the tape for DH where the boyfried says this exact thing!

The only thing we can figure out? This was an interracial relationship, and the girlfriend was "purple," same race as DH. Maybe the boyfriend was afraid that DH would assume he made the girlfriend get the surgery? And DH would get on the boyfriend's case for inflicting this agony on one of his own purple people? Hence the lying??? Geez, people, even in your "hour of need" when you are not even breaking the law, you are STILL lying to the fuzz? Lord, help us!

If only the boyfriend knew that DH is married to a chic that's not the same race (yes, I'm orange, I admit it) -- and it just so happens that the boyfriend in the story is too! ka pow!

......in other news, my brother broke his tibia and fibula while returning from a sailing trip. According to Austin, "It's like the boat was a bone cutter chainsaw!" Yes, something like that. He had surgery today to insert four screws and he should be good to go in a month or two. Yuck.

......in additional medical family news, my mom is having her hip replaced tomorrow. I really should talk to those people about a reserved parking spot at the hospital. ha.

this is not it!

I will not be making Loco Larry, the mentally unstable locomotive, for Austin's upcoming birthday, as seen here:


As he said when he saw this picture, What's wrong with him? Isn't there supposed to be a mouth? Or a smile?

Thank you, Cake Wrecks.

America's Finest?

I was watching the "Ocean Patrol: San Diego" marathon on tru tv today. (Yeah, what a way to "celebrate" the 4th of July, eh?)

Anyhow, San Diego is called America's Finest City. They even have it listed on the police cars.... or at least most of them. The one I saw on the show today said "America's Fi st."

so true...

Did I really say that??

My husband is a pretty conservative, traditional kind of guy. His choices of names for our kids have been highly uninteresting. I would have loved actually naming them Austin, Charlotte, and Dallas, but alas, he was more interested in names like John, Jacob, and probably would have loved Bob. Simple, plain, strong (he says). BORING (I say).

Anyhow, while I consented to the names given our first two children, I didn't really love them. I decided I would get my way on the name thing for #3. For the record, I did. It took me four days and evidently I also sold my soul to the devil: I said he could buy 10 new guns if he let me have "my" name.

Unfortunately, I have no recollection of this event. He says it is proof that even when you are emotionally wrapped up in something you still can't sell your soul to the devil (as I did in this case, evidently). And here I thought he was being a loving husband, giving me my way as solace for the most horrible (of the three) labor events.

Remember how I said it has been guns, guns, guns nonstop? I guess it's still not stopping any time soon.... sigh...