Back in the saddle

I really appreciated Katie's post this week about putting our hearts on the line.   It may be a really common idea, but I had never quite thought of it that way.  While our spouses are out there putting their lives on the line for the general citizenry, those of us who send them off put our hearts on the line.  It described my feelings and thoughts to a "T".

As my husband's law enforcement career winds down, I get more and more nervous that I'm going to send him off and have something horribly terrible go wrong while he's at work.  I've always been a little nervous, but at peace.  Now I think, have we come so far to just lose it all to some nutcase, right here at the end?  Officer Kenyon Youngstrom, whom Katie talks about in her post, died this week after checking out a dead deer on the side of the road.  (A fellow officer initiated a stop, where the suspect pulled over near Officer Youngstrom and eventually took Officer Youngstrom's life.  You can read all about it on the various news websites.) 

Whenever I send my guy back into the fray after hearing all the details about a line of duty death, I'm a little more nervous.  My heart races a little more.  I make sure I get an extra kiss or two before he heads out.  I repeat my mantra over and over,  "The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe."  Proverbs 18:10  (NIV 1984)  And I try not to eat too much ice cream.

What's your go-to method for calming the fears that find you when you aren't (or are) looking?

Lingo

I'd been thinking recently about all the lingo that is new and different in the police life. Our speech has changed a bit. A while back I saw a post someone did explaining some of the lingo. Well, I've forgotten who that was (let me know and I will link up if that was you!) but I thought I'd put my own list, because there are some that are just too weird.

Packing
1. Placing everything you need in a suitcase or bag, ready to go
2. Placing the only thing you need ~ your weapon ~ in your holster of choice, typically concealed

Heat
1. The act of making something warmer
2. Your weapon

"20"
1. The number on the bill I get out of the ATM to pay for stuff
2. Your location

Sus
1. Music: from Italian sostenere, to be performed in a smooth sustained manner (I come from a hugely musical family so this is a serious problem for me!!)
2. short for "suspicious"; That guy breaking into the car is sus.

Perp
1. Short for perpetual
2. Short for perpetrator

BOB
1. The new reader books my kids like to read: Bob Books, Set 1: Beginning Readers
2. Short for Bail Out Bag, which will quite possibly never be used but must be stocked with the very best equipment ever

Weekend
1. Saturday and Sunday
2. Whatever days you aren't working

Friday
1. The day that comes before Saturday and after Thursday
2. The day that comes before whatever days you aren't working

Monday
1. The day that comes after Sunday and before Tuesday
2. The first day you work after your weekend

What are your favorites?

Breaking Up Isn't Hard To Do

Dear Blog,

Although I think about you all the time, it's been about five months since I've visited you.  I've been so busy.  I know you can't really relate, seeing as how your visit count has never really been all that high.  But this blog was never about you, was it?  It was all about me.

So, as I was saying, I've been busy.  Do you remember I was pregnant with kiddie #4?  Well, I had labor pains with that baby for almost my entire third trimester.  Oh man, was that scary.  Eventually I did deliver that baby (a girl, to my utter shock!) and only a week early.  She was huge, 8 pounds 11 ounces.  That's huge for me, especially since my first kid was only 5 pounds 13 ounces.  Well anyway, thankfully I didn't almost die (like another lady in labor that day) but I sure had some damage which kept me, well, really injured for a while.  The baby had a stay in the NICU because she had some complications, too.

The best part of all that is we now have a precious, sweet little girl.  I'm almost completely healed, and for all this time my dear husband has been home helping with the kids and causing a ruckus.  He's just gone back to work, and we'll see how long he lasts.  :)

When little one (still haven't thought of a blog name for her yet.... not sure I'll need to, but we'll get to that) was about 2 weeks old we decided to move, and move we did.  It was the first time in our marriage that we moved and boy, was it painful in so many ways. But we've moved and have a temporary landing spot for now, with most of our stuff in storage.  [ED. NOTE: When you have most of your stuff in storage, don't watch Storage Wars with your kids.  They'll freak out that someone's going to sneak in and sell your stuff while you aren't paying on your unit.]

My husband wants to quit his job.  He's getting older, and I think police work just doesn't feel like his life dream.  He doesn't feel like he's making a difference in his life.  I think there are other reasons for that besides his job, but let's not digress now.  I want him to be happy, but I also want him to be paying the bills if he wants me to continue to be the primary educator in our little homeschooling family.  I was hoping his little break from work after the baby would give him some clarity on what he wants to do.  Instead, he took care of me and the kids and moved and took a three week vacation.  Not too exciting, and definitely no clarity there.

So, dear blog, it's been harder for me to get by to visit you. I guess I also don't need you as much any more.  I don't have so much angst over my husband's job, which I would ruminate on and think about via this outlet.  Although I wouldn't know what it would be like to be married to not-a-cop any more, I've finally realized I'd still have the same husband.  Sure, maybe he wouldn't have permission to carry off duty any more like he does 24/7 now (he'd be permanently off duty!), he'd still have the same personality and heightened awareness of life.  So if I'm not back too often, please don't take it personally.  It's me, not you.

Love,
Handcuffed Heart

Courage

Found this floating around the internet recently ~ and oh, my, did it speak to my heart. Even if you aren't a believer in the Big Guy Upstairs, I think we can all agree that courage is a necessary ingredient in a life as a significant other to a police officer.

Dear God,
Give me COURAGE, for perhaps I lack it more than anything else.
I need COURAGE as I witness my husband's departure for duty each day.
I need COURAGE as I see him put on his uniform because I know the abuse that perhaps he will be subjected to before he returns from his tour of duty.
I need COURAGE in dealing with the children when he is working long hours during demonstrations or on an investigation.
I need COURAGE when tensions buildup on the job and pressures at home to mount and life becomes almost too much to bear.
I need COURAGE to stand firm and not to succumb to the urge to run away from problems.
Help me to have the strength to be a COURAGEOUS and Valiant Woman, when I learn from the media that a "police officer's been hurt."
The next time I waver or grow faint-hearted, Help me, O Divine Master, to be COURAGEOUS.
And, having found the source of strength in You, Help me to reach out to others, who may be just as scared as I.

Amen

Prayer given at the DC Police Wives Installation Dinner, on June 15, 1973, by Reverend R. Joseph Dooley.

Control What You Can

We've spent the first seven weeks of 2012 being enmeshed in a crazy new schedule with crazy new stress at my husband's department. Our computer has been at the computer hospital for a few weeks so I have been relegated to "connecting" via my smart phone. "Relegated"? Since when did society become so entitled? But I digress...

I've been through the whole shift change thing enough times to know that you just have to let it happen to you. You can't force it, you can't make it be something it is not or something you are not. You just have to go with the flow. I'm not like that. I like a plan. I can go with the flow when there is a plan in place. (Don't you roll your eyes at me!) So in the first seven weeks of being back to graves after almost three years off and major, huge stress at work for my husband, I'm getting my butt kicked.

In the eight years of our marriage, I have never once sat down for three hours straight and "discussed" my husband's job with him. Sure, I hear plenty of stories every day, but I don't get three hours of straight entertainment. And it's happening regularly now. The stress and frustration and irritation are oozing out of him and pouring over the rest of us at home. He's trying to not let it, but... it happens.

With all this background (and does anyone even remember I'm still busy building lungs, bones, and vital organs?!?!), it should come as no surprise that we had a day of "intense fellowship" this weekend. He was angry. I was hurt. I got angry. And it never got resolved. Some of it just can't be resolved right now. There is all this crap, serious C-R-A-P floating around in our lives and it seems so overwhelming.

Now that I'm at this point, I don't care anymore. As my friends keep badgering me -- in the nicest way possible, I'm sure -- "When are you going to buy a bigger car? When are you going to move from your 700 sq ft house to a bigger house since you're going to have four kids?" I've hit on, "I don't care any more." Of course I care, but I'm beyond worrying about it. The most amazing revelation someone once gave me was that YOU cannot make ME feel anything I don't want to feel. You can't make me feel dumpy, sloppy, stupid, or ugly, unless I give you permission. In all of this, I WILL CONTROL WHAT I CAN. I can control how I respond. And that's about it.

Every situation, and every dilemma I encounter, presents me with a choice. Will I get my panties in a bunch and freak out, or will I put on my big girl boots with a good attitude? Talk to a friend who has no job. No food in the cupboards. An eight-year battle with ovarian cancer. My choice to do the best with what I have and not throw a temper tantrum seems much more clear cut.

Of course this weekend I absolutely did not follow this advice, and what a waste of time and energy that was.

Dear Officers On The Corner

Dear Officers on the corner,

I write to commend you on your handling of the crazy man in front of the cafe last week. I was out running errands in town with my three young children when they excitedly noticed the two police cars with lights and sirens pulling up to the curb nearby. There was a man in handcuffs screaming about being unjustly cuffed. A nearby employee mentioned he's a regular. As in, regularly in cuffs. There were four officers handling the situation, and the man was screaming.

I was very impressed that none of the officers were yelling back at this obviously disturbed man. I was impressed that they weren't joking with each other, or casting sideways sneers his way. Thank you for handling this man, who many would consider the dregs of society, with respect and dignity. I know there is no reason you should except for the goodness of your heart. I also know most of that goodness is tested, banged, and tarnished every day by those whom you serve, and deign to tell you that they pay your salary.

Thank you.

Thankful... but I need some help

I was inspired by Katie over at My Daily Bread Crumbs to get back into my habit of posting my Thankful Thursday musings. It was a good habit for me to be in, to actually practice mindful thankfulness and be willing to look for the good in my life regularly.

Anyway Thankful Thursday came and went this week. oops.

This week I was thankful for our car. It is comfy, it works, and I never worry about it. It's reliable and wonderful, and unfortunately too small to cart around four kids. We bought the smallest car seats we could find (Sunshine Kids, now officially Diono) so we could fit three across in the back seat. They fit. Barely. So I'll be happy to move up to a larger car (I guess?) but I sure will miss this car. I am so thankful it has been so good to us all these years.

I'm also thankful for my husband's job. But he's gone back to graveyards and I'm forgetting how to make it all work. Including myself going to bed at a regular, normal time. :) So I'm asking for help -- what are your tips and tricks for making graves work in your family?

Well Hello There, 2012!

Happy New Year.  I guess I have to say that, although considering I'm still stuck in November 2011 as evidenced by the fact that it has been about six weeks since I last posted.... well, I'm in a bit of a quandary as to how to welcome 2012. 

We have had a glorious holiday season.  DH had much of December off, and we spent more time than I can remember in recent memory laughing, giggling, and having a wonderful time.  But all good things must come to an end.  School and work start up again next week and already the stress and "police mentality" is creeping back in.  While I'm so grateful for the wonderful, wonderful time we have had together, I'm also battling the "What if's..?" in hard-core style. 

It doesn't help that we're starting the new year with a bang -- literally -- in the law enforcement community.  I follow a variety of law enforcement related facebook pages, and after reading about the three deaths across the country on this first day of the year, I ran across this status update from Wives Behind The Badge: "We're following the story in Washington and will post the official notification when it is available. Sending prayers to all involved."

That made me so mad.  Are you freaking kidding me?  I'm so tired of "following the story" of the crazies in the world that think it's open season on our law enforcement officers.  Mostly, I think it's that I don't want to be part of the next story y'all are following.  So when DH comes home all angry and burned out and treating us like we are suspects on the verge of running and in need of incarceration, I'm very inclined to encourage him to go get that job at Starbucks.  I sure would work less at not worrying. And maybe we would all be -- albeit poorer -- a lot happier.

That was my one last nerve!

I don't care where you work -- if you're a cop, you automatically have a big fat target on the back of your uniform. You may work in a more "dangerous" area -- cities that people across the country may hear of and know about, and not for their beautiful beaches and friendly people -- or you may work in a neighboring jurisdiction that gets the overflow from one of those crappy towns. The longer my husband is in law enforcement, the more I learn that there are all kind of cops working for all kinds of agencies (ever seen a Postal Service Police Officer? I have!). And they all have their unique idiosyncrasies.

There has been major tension in our larger metro area lately, with lots of conflict between the cops and the illogical, left-leaning, narrow-minded citizens that see the uniform my husband wears and make all sorts of assumptions about him. And they don't even know him! Now, generally speaking, my husband's jurisdiction is rather benign. One of those places where you automatically think "Oh, that's not too bad," but at the same time they get the overflow from some of the more nasty towns around.

So, yeah, I feel pretty "safe" when my husband goes to work. (What a joke that is. But that's for another post.) He's gotten plenty of his shift buddies out of jams in his years on, been crashed by a drunk driver... but really? It's not that bad.

So imagine my surprise when I was driving home with the kids in the car recently and I heard the breaking news that there had been a shooting right in the middle of DH's jurisdiction. When he was on duty. In the middle of his shift. In the middle of his jurisdiction. Did I mention he was working right then?

Like I recently said on Twitter, my insides died a little while I heard that tiny snippet. I knew not to call him. If he had been the shooter, or on the call during the shooting, or been shot, he's wasn't going to answer the phone. If he was providing support to the whole situation (highly likely, eh?), he wasn't going to answer the phone. So I just had to breathe... and know that whatever had happened had already happened. And I would know if I needed to know and when I needed to know. I called my brother and had him comb the internet for details -- just find out who got shot, was it a good guy or a bad guy? I hung up and called home to check the messages remotely. No messages. Ok, I think that's a good sign. I think.

It turned out to be a good sign. About 90 minutes later DH called and my insides collapsed in relief. Yes, he was still on duty. No, he wasn't on the call. No, he wouldn't be coming home on time. Yes, I would need to scramble for a babysitter. That "late home" and "not available for you" part sucked. But I didn't even care when I knew he wasn't involved in the incident.

I'm having a hard time synthesizing my feelings about the whole thing. The multiple incidents piling up -- a fight here, a shooting there, crazy morons here, obscenities and profanity... all in one week? I can take it spread out but shift after shift after shift, working 12 hours on with three days off spread over 14 days?

If I'm having trouble, how are these officers doing it?

DH had a glorious day off yesterday and now he is back in the trenches. I'm sorting through my feelings, and definitely not discussing with my non-LEO friends because they cannot wrap their mind around it. Oh, and potty training. And cleaning up barf. That's what we are doing today. What's on your schedule today?

I do it all. Except....

I pride myself on being able to sit down and take it. Not in a "do you know it is domestic violence awareness month" kind of way, but more of the "just do it" way. I schlep uniforms to the cleaners. I speed-racer ironed academy uniforms (then said "no more!"). I pack lunches at dinner and make breakfast for lunch. I have my weekend on Wednesday and Thursday and celebrate Christmas on any day in December that starts with a twenty-something. Heck, I celebrated Thanksgiving for several years straight at the police station!

If you are a LEO family this is no big news to you. And none of us (usually) are complaining, it is just a reminder of what our normal is. It is one heck of a different kind of normal than most other people I know.

That is why I was knocked on my butt this week when I realized there is something I just won't do when it comes to the police wife life, because as I have just explained, I do it all.

bulletblocker.com

My husband brought home his body armor for a good cleaning. Some wear them over their shirts, some under, but if you have half a brain you wear your freaking vest on duty.  This is the one piece of equipment that kind of creeps me out.  It's this ugly, smelly, nondescript thing that could very well save my husband's life at the very best or at the very worst make a horrible injury much less severe.  I'm happy he is bringing it home for cleaning, but it sure does give me the creeps.  Oh, did I already say that?  Well, it does.  He's scrubbing it and cleaning it like it's a pair of boots he's sloshed through a homeless encampment in and all I can think of is "Please don't die, please don't die, please don't die."

Which is totally *NOT* like me.  People ask me stupid questions like this All. The. Time.  "Don't you worry?"  "What would happen if...?"  From some people I know it is sincere and they are truly concerned.  But other people who are asking me stuff; it almost feels like they have no right to ask, well... don't get me started.

I was doing ok ignoring the whole thing and keeping it together until I saw this little tiny rectangular piece laying on our bed (because really, where else would you clean this stuff?!).  A little bigger than a 4x6 index card, I think.  (I'm not sure, I didn't look too long.)  The Trauma Pac.  Now, this picture over to the right is just a representative photo I found on a message board on the great world wide web.  But I can tell you that if that tiny little rectangle with the nice "Trauma Pac" description and "second chance" were sitting there on my bed WITH AN OUTLINE OF A HEART like this one has, I would have been through the roof.  I almost had to pick it up and put it under the bed or in my husband's sock drawer because I had such a strong reaction to it.

But I'm tough.  I do it all.  I'm a police wife.  So I kept my freaking-out-ness to myself and just in passing mentioned it to my mom the next time we were chatting.  It felt good to have it off my chest and I could move on.  I can't tell you how ecstatic I was to have that thing all put together and back in my husband's locker... yes, doing the job it was intended to do, keeping him safe(r) and sweaty on the streets.

Is there something about the job that is like nails on a chalkboard to you?  This one is certainly mine!

Here she comes, there she goesI

It's been a bad summer. Today the minutes ticked by past the "witching hour" ~ the moments when I had expected DH home, then hoped he would be home, then started checking every car that drove by to see if it was someone delivering bad news. About half an hour later, the phone rang and the first thing my husband said was, "We're OK," [and you always know this comes before the "but"] "but I'm going to be late."

So, so, so grateful today. Trying to focus on what I have instead of what I don't. I'll be happy when this summer is over.

Department Politics

I know it's a brotherhood. I know I should be grateful that anybody covers my husband's butt on any kind of call so that said butt can come home every night from work. (Although there are a few out that who would actually make the call worse... but I digress.)

In the midst of all this "brotherhood" there are politics. I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that there is bickering. I have three kids. In fact, I spent a bunch of time today mediating all that "bologna" with said three kids. So I know how it is.

But adults? ADULTS? Seriously!?!? My husband does the best job he can, every day he goes to work. He's been injured ON THE JOB and kept working while getting treatment. He busts his butt to actually -- get this!?!? -- do his job the right way.

To be fair, I love my husband dearly, but he does have his faults, too. I especially can't stand how black-and-white everything is for him. It is absolutely right or absolutely wrong. Yet, he can also be the most forgiving cop there is, taking the stance that showing someone mercy may have a much bigger impact in changing their behavior than a measly citation. He's a conundrum, that one.

So when I know all this about him, about how he works so diligently and hurts so much.... when a superior starts spreading rumors about him, you'll see why I'm a little peeved.

In the real world, my husband would calmly, and politely, call them on the carpet. He would nicely say "I hear you told your whole team I'm a lazy tard. Can you clarify for me the problem you see with my work, so that I can improve?" But of course, dear sweet husband can't do that. Because then the "rat" (who told my husband about the rumor-mill-maker) will be outed and my husband cherishes his brotherhood. He is so grateful for the "rat" who told him he's being falsely accused of x-y-z *behind his back* and now he knows he must watch out for said back.

I'm just livid.

How do you handle department politics? Because I'm sure not doing a great job of handling them right now.

Job Description

Remember back in February how I wrote about my husband's new job description? I recently read an article where an officer was fired for a Facebook status he posted (big surprise) that said something to the effect of "going to take out the garbage at work tonight."

Guess if I want my husband to keep his job I'd better lay off the "My husband's a garbage collector" line. :(

More questions for you

CA Cop Wife recently asked about your opinion on significant other ridealongs at work. Go chime in!

Now, my question for you: do you have a scanner? Do you listen while your significant other is on duty? If you're a cop, how do you feel about your S.O. listening in while you're on duty? I have been forbidden from getting a scanner or listening or any of that. Boo hoo. I did download a scanner app for my phone and listen to some neighboring agencies. I think it's just interesting to get more accustomed to the radio, codes, etc. And I like knowing what's going on. :)

I've mentioned a few times that I have several relatives in law enforcement. I have good memories of hanging out at my grandparent's house, laying on the bed and listening to the scanner with my grandma. Every once in a while she would say, "Oh, that's your uncle." I think she listened more out of fear for his safety, not because she was truly interested in what was going on. Well ~ she was interested out of fear. You know what I mean.

What about you?

Hot Times In The Town Tonight

How do you find out what's happening while your LEO is on shift?  Over time I've read enough of y'all's blogs to know that sometimes our well-meaning LEO will quickly text and say "going to the hospital, be home late" and then ....... nothing........ for far too long, leaving you concerned that he's in the hospital with who-knows-what wrong and who-knows-what-will-happen while he's there.  Maybe he's taking a suspect, or it's for someone else..... My point is, when something's going down, sometimes you find out from your LEO, you watch the news, or (my new favorite) twitter.

Some time ago there was a big protest during one of DH's shifts, and I was combing twitter for updates.  It was nice to know what was going on.  I figured out the hashtag the protesters were using and got lots of lovely updates.  The news had some info, and of course, DH was completely out of touch so I heard details from him after the fact.  I really appreciated knowing what was going on via twitter -- from the protester's side of things.  Kinda humorous that I was keeping tabs on DH via the "enemy". 

So, when your LEO is long overdue home for some high-profile reason, what do you do?  Do you bury your head in the sand and wait for the details until he gets home so you don't worry yourself into an ulcer?  Do you flip through every news channel to get the news from every outlet possible?  Do you comb twitter, facebook, or your town's gossip blogs? 

New Shift Review ~ Mids

It's been a few months now that my husband has been on mids.  It's OK.  It's the closest to days I'll ever get (which are of course my most favorite and his least favorite) so I'm happy to have a chance to test them out.

He still gets up after us (our day feels half over sometimes, especially when I've been up since 3 AM but that's another post in itself), and he is gone for most of the day while the kids are awake.  The nice thing is that it feels like a more flexible shift.  Since he is overlapping for most of his shift, he can sometimes sneak out a little early if he has extra time to burn (which he often does, since he mostly takes his OT as time off, not pay) and be home for a late dinner or family movie night.

Probably my number one, favorite thing about this shift?  On his days off, he is not a werewolf and he actually gets up at a reasonable time, and goes to bed around the same time we do!!  I love it!!  Thank you, so much, husband, for gifting me with this shift this time around.  After six years of every schedule imaginable (except for five or six months on your dreaded day shift!) I really appreciate you coming back to a daytime schedule.  :)  thanks :)

"Get into the groove...."

"...boy, you've got to prove...."

Just kidding.  Yes, I'm a child of the 80's, and if you have no idea what I'm talking, er, singing about just, uh, carry on.

But getting into a "groove" is definitely a way to keep your sanity, wouldn't ya say?  I'll be the first to say that I think getting into a rhythm in life is hard enough on it's own with kids, a job, A LIFE THAT NEVER QUITS, you know.... the basics.  But a LEO family?  Sheesh.

Someone recently asked me on Twitter if I scheduled my days.  I gave a flip "It depends on the day" ~ which was totally the truth but somewhat a cop out.  What I eventually came to share was that I have a plan; a general plan, not a minute-by-minute plan or even a hour-by-hour plan of how to structure most of my days.  Of course there are certain days we have obligations and must be out the door at a certain time -- those are non-negotiables, obviously.  I'm even less structured than I would like to be, but that's because I'm a perfectionist.  Does anyone else see the irony in that statement?!?!  I'm a perfectionist, so the less I plan the better I am about going with the flow and accepting whatever comes my way.  And with a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants husband with an equally unpredictable job, it's really helping me manage my expectations about accomplishments in our daily lives.

In truth, I'm not even as scheduled as Monday/laundry day; Tuesday/Bathroom cleaning day, although I'd probably be better off if I was.  However, the things I do to keep our rhythm on a daily basis are:

1. Have everyone's clothes laid out the night before, even for the baby and me.  Since I am always up before my husband, this is an easy way to avoid the certain groaning from him as I open and close drawers looking for that always-lost sock.
2. No one eats breakfast if they aren't dressed.  While this is not a hard-and-fast rule every single day, on days when we have places to go/people to see/things to do, it sure gets everyone dressed and ready in a hurry.  Socks have to be on and shoes are by the door for easy access when it comes down to the last minute rush to get out the door.
3. I check our calendar the night before to make sure that everything we need is ready to go.  This includes programming my phone with the phone numbers of people with whom I have appointments the next day.  That way if I'm running late, or they don't show up, I have a way to contact them and rearrange our appointment.
4. Everyone packs their bags the night before.  The kids' things are ready to go, I'm ready, and it really cuts down on the morning stress.
5. Speaking of the night before?  I make sure I have a plan for all the meals the next day.  I'm in NO way a menu planner  of the caliber of Mrs. Fuzz, but if I know the night before what's happening the next day for meals, I can chop any veggies and prep as much as possible the night before, or add to my to-do list to pick up that one essential ingredient I'm inevitably missing before 5pm rolls around the next day.
6. This one is the worst.  I'm just warning you now: I do my very very best to get up and dressed before I hear the first tentative "Mama" calling from the kids' room.  On many days, it really really.... well, it sucks.  But when I have time to get ready in peace and start my day on my terms, it cuts down on the yelling (what? ME? yell?) and frustration I inevitably feel at some point in the morning.  The other thing that's nice in our house is that the kids are not allowed to get up and out of bed without permission. 

That's just to make sure our days go smoothly and cut down on stress when things (always) come up at the last minute.  The thing that really got me going on this post, however, was thinking about how the rhythm of our days and week has been pretty hard to mesh with my cop husband's.

We get up early.
He doesn't.
We have a weekend, like the rest of the world.  Well, the same days as the rest of the world.
He doesn't.
We eat breakfast in the morning.
He doesn't.
Afternoons are for naps.
His afternoons are the prime of his day.

You know, all those basic things.  It's been a continual, conscious effort to readjust my weekly rhythm to fit with my husbands'.  We don't necessarily use Saturday as a free-for-all weekend day --  It might be Monday, Sunday, or Thursday.

What tips, tricks, and downright skulldudgery do you use to keep your family in sync with your significant other?  Please share.  I'm trying to avoid the bitter side of life so help me out, people!

In Case Of...

Did anyone watch The Bachelor this week?  If you haven't, SPOILER ALERT.  It's been a few days so I don't think I'll spoil anything for those who actually care by telling you that Brad (the bachelor) went to visit his four remaining ladies at their hometowns.  One of the Chantals is from Chico, California, and she helps run the family funeral home.  Her hometown date with Brad started off in the funeral home.  Talk about a romance killer.

At one point, Brad admitted that he is really uncomfortable with death, and never likes to say goodbye to anyone... well, can I hammer it home any more, dear readers?  Death is certain.  Life is UNcertain!  sheesh.  No big surprise that after Chantal had him lay on one of the embalming tables and showed him all her embalming tools, she did not get a rose at the rose ceremony.  No big surprise, none at all... Serious romance killer.

But when you're a law family, death is a little more... acceptable? Accepted? Talked about?  I don't know, maybe it's not, but it should be.  At one time I had a list of all the things that should be in my husband's End Of Watch (EOW) folder.  Who to call, what he wants, what to do, important papers, all that jazz.  Really, if you are breathing (which you are, if you are reading this) you should have a folder like this, LEO or not.

So in that vein, I thought I'd share with you a recent post on Unclutterer: In Case of Death... There are some very basic suggestions as to what you should have all in a centralized location (in your "love drawer" or "legacy drawer" as referenced to Dave Ramsey).  There are also a lot of good tips in the comments section, so read that too. 

Have you done this yet?  Do you think you will (no matter if you "should")? Some people just "can't" or "won't" do it.  What LEO specific items would you suggest adding to that folder?

Heartbroken

I'm heartbroken that no one has shared any of their family traditions!  On the heels of all that jewelry talk (that so many of you had so much to say about!), I figured for sure a few of you would chime in.  But that's OK, I'll live.

Seriously, that's not the reason I'm heartbroken, though.  I'm about to dive in to some really sad stuff and I had to start off with a little bit of levity.

It's no surprise that our husbands see the lowest of the low on a regular basis.  That's part of the job description.  I realize that I hear very little of what my husband processes every week on the job.  I used to lap up every tidbit of information he would share after shift, but as time has passed.... I don't get as much info anymore.  There are plenty of reasons for that.  It's more "normal" now.  It's second nature.  "Everything" is not new and exciting and crazy and I don't desperately wonder about every moment he is on shift any more, and he has even less of a need to share it now.  I can count on him sharing the highlights, but other than that, I know there is lots of stuff that just goes by.  And I'm OK with that.

So when my husband walks in the door after shift and starts spewing words of the venomous kind before he even has his shoes off, I immediately know it's been a bad day.

That happened recently, and it was heartbreaking.

I'm really proud of my husband, in that he thinks like a "bad guy" all the time, even more than most other cops we know.  He drives me nuts sometimes.  He's always thinking tactically -- the best way to approach on a car stop if he wants to give the bad guy the easiest way to kill him (and he promptly does the opposite); why you should or shouldn't enter a building this way or that way... honestly I can't even think of all the things to list here because I've heard them so many times, I just kind of let it go in one ear and out the other.  Lots -- but not all -- cops do this, too; but they all should.

So when he came home and was sharing heartbreak after heartbreak, it really got to me.  I wouldn't say "mistake" ~ because I am 100% against doing the whole "Monday Morning Quarterback" routine on any well-trained individual who has a fraction of a millisecond to decide if he should do x, y, or z before killing someone or getting killed himself. In every situation there are plenty of other, better options you can think of after-the-fact.  It doesn't matter.  It was all heartbreaking.  Every few minutes he would pause and say "Hm, I probably can't tell you that..."

There's no one in my life that would understand all the things he told me.  And besides, with all those caveats he kept throwing in I wasn't sure what I could and couldn't say to anyone I would talk to.  So I'm telling you.  I'm heartbroken.

Hug your special people tighter.  Send your special one off to work with extra love.  And support them when they spew their venom.  How else can you help them see the best of life, when all they regularly see is the worst?

Photo credit JerryFergusonPhotography on Flickr

To Ring or Not To Ring?

I remember those first few days of my new, sparkly diamond engagement ring shimmering on my finger.  It was an outward symbol of the inner feelings I had; I loved someone, and someone loved me, and I had great hope and excitement about our future.  In reality, I didn't need that ring to accompany that burning question (the one that came right after the comment about the "nerdy girl" he met so many years ago) but it was a special symbol that I still treasure.

Then, there was the question of a wedding band.  Did I really need one?  I had a sparkly thing on my finger already.  Why did I need TWO rings instead of one?  [For the record, I did end up with one ~ a plain band studded with my beloved's birthstone. Love!!]

It may be just a "girl thang" but I definitely feel different when I have that ring on.  Even if it's just the plain band, I love glimpsing that ring on my finger and thinking about all the conversations that got us there; the huge fight we got into (and he still gave me my wedding band); the day he proposed and what a shock it was... all of these things are wrapped up in this little piece of jewelry.

So when I don't wear it, I feel "less" married.  I don't know how you can feel "less" in that way but I sure do.  Now, back in the day I bought my husband a wedding band, which he wore for a while.  But he stopped wearing it somewhere along the road.  I even bought him a "cheap" replacement because he said he wanted something different/different size/other wife (ha ha just kidding).  But he still doesn't wear it.  I guess there are lots of reasons; it's more comfy without it, it doesn't get banged up, and it leaves some mystery as to whether my man has a wife and kids at home.  Good for the thugs trying to "come after us" in retaliation, bad for the 20-year-old badge bunnies that always seem to be creeping around.

So, I'm curious.... you first responder types out there.... do you wear a ring on shift?  Does your S.O. wear one on shift?  Why or why not?

Image courtesy of Fensterbme on Flickr

In the interest of full disclosure, I was not wearing any jewelry at the time of this post!