I Am The Law

Babies eating bananas

2012-01-29T22:14:00.002-06:00

I have found there is nothing funnier than my baby eating bananas. Like a real banana, chopped into a million tiny little pieces. He thoroughly enjoyed the taste and texture, but quickly discovered it was far more interesting to squeeze and smash them between his fingers.. and THEN try to put them in his mouth. This = fun for me to watch.

In other news, had a fabulous and much needed weekend of the hubs being off work! We went to dinner with the bro on Friday night and spent the rest of the weekend chilling. The in-laws came over tonight for dinner and they actually liked the dinner I made. This made me happy!

The kids played outside with the neighbor girls, who Mr. Pants lovingly refers to as his "girlfriends".... I was all busy fixing the food for our dinner and happened to glance out and see all of the kids on the hill with a giant hole and a shovel. Is it bad that I cracked the door and yelled, "Where is Mr. Pants?". Once The Dude pointed to him and I was assured Mr. Pants was NOT in the giant hole in the ground, I shut the door and went back to cooking. I really didn't think to ask (until hours later) what the hell they were doing with a shovel and a giant hole. Turns out they were making an animal trap. Hm. Ok. I like that better than video games so it's cool.

So... The kids are in bed, the hubs is here.. I'm going to try to catch a short movie with him before he konks out in front of the fireplace AND before Mr. Pants comes running down the hall with his midnight - drink of water, has to go pee, can't sleep, not tired, hoooooongry, bored, needs to watch a movie-episodes.

Hubs starts 6:30a-6:30p tomorrow. Thank God it's back to the land of the living for a month.

Yeah, OK lady

2012-01-26T00:10:00.001-06:00

So I was reading a blog post from a woman who is also a police wife. While I think she makes some very good points almost every post, I was a little surprised by some of the things she said on this one in particular.

She was going on about how our men have the toughest jobs and how hard it is on them and we should just not be b*tches and be more understanding because "what if they don't come home".

And I was practically standing in my chair yelling, "Yes, what IF he doesn't come home". We live every day with that very assumption. If he doesn't come home, I'm going to do exactly what I do now. Everything. By myself. (yes I am very much generalizing)

I think (and just being frank here) there are actually PO wives among us who forget that in many, many, many police marriages, the wife is every damn bit as strong as the husband.

The wife is the one who manages an entire brood, defends her lifestyle and choices to friends and family who may be totally unsupportive, goes it alone day in and day out, cooks, cleans, learns to prepare for a home invasion, knows where the gun or the bat (or both) are located for handling those 'strange noises' in the middle of the night while he's out on duty...

It irritates me when some police wives act as though we aren't supposed to be human beings. It is comparable to a citizen who "doesn't get it" saying - "tough shit - you knew what you were signing up for". I just think it's unfair when people - anyone- acts as though police wives are supposed to go around swearing that life is wonderful every day. Some days it sucks. Period. There is nothing that will make it better.

Sometimes it sucks for a month at a time, or for years at a time if you're going through drama like an investigation, a department shake-up, a lawsuit, etc.

I love hearing opinions, and lots of them; but I do not like someone telling me I don't have the right to feel overwhelmed, sad, disappointed, frustrated or any other perfectly normal human emotion because it might serve as a distraction for my hubs' job.

Things don't suck all the time, but when they do - they do, and it should be ok to say it without someone criticising. Something good old Meadow said once is, "I don't go around worshipping my husband, knitting little badge-shaped slippers and baking cookies for him at 3 in the morning". And God love her, because that is the one mindset I made myself borrow from her.

When my hubs teasingly asked, "Why didn't you call me when I didn't call you on my way home from work tonight?" (as I am half-snoring because it's 3am).. I replied, "Oh, I just figured you were dead."

That's how we roll. Gotta keep it real.

Police Wifin' It

2012-01-17T00:50:00.003-06:00

The past three weeks (God it feels SO much longer than that) have been a major adjustment in our house. Hubs began 12 hour shifts of 6:30p-6:30a. I suppose on one hand it's nice because he works like 2 on 3 off and now actually gets every other weekend off, but holy crap. I never realized how much those 4 extra hours a day meant to us.

Don't get me wrong, I am thankful as hell that he has this job, but I am struggling big time to juggle the life right now. As you all know, meals missed is a regular thing, but now we don't get a single meal a day together. He is gone before dinner and sleeps through breakfast and lunch. I have made ridiculous use of the crockpot so that there is always something hot ready for him to eat. But just watching him eat something across the kitchen, holding over the sink while we casually chat is ancient history now. God I miss that.

The kids are having a hard time adjusting, too. At least I'm not the only baby ha ha! I open my eyes each day to Mr. Pants hovering over me asking in a really loud funny whisper, "Where's dad?". I guess it is now instinctual for them to start the day knowing if daddy is home or not. If he is, I am left in the dust (lol) and the pitter patter of little feet goes downstairs to jump in the pile of blankets on daddy's bed and wake him up.

I know that as we have surely all experienced, as soon as I get used to this schedule, his next 7 duty days will have flown by and we will be into 6:30a-6:30p!

The baby had a horrible night last night. He was up all night screaming like a banshee. Poor baby, I think it's his top teeth coupled with an upper respiratory nastiness we've been passing around. I was so tired I could barely see straight. Hubs was so sweet and helpful.. he was off last night and at one point I told him I don't know how he does it. I'd be asleep in the squad car by midnight. He smiled and said, "Eh... I'm a professional, ok?!". (mimicking the guy from Ferris Bueller's Day Off)... we chuckled and I felt my spirits rise.

And then the screaming started again! It was rough and I felt defeated, but hubs stayed up with Mr. Baby and me all night helping out. It was so nice not being alone. I made sure to tell him I honestly wouldn't have survived the night without him being here.

Tonight while actually carrying on a nice conversation over the phone, dispatch busted in with a burglary in progress and rattled off the description of the dirtbag. No "goodbye", just click. C'est la vie.

It's the life!

Be Enlightened

2012-01-12T00:38:00.002-06:00

A wonderful video which expresses so much of what is "wrong" with public education.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDZFcDGpL4U

Keep on keepin on

2012-01-08T23:35:00.001-06:00

I believe last week was an attempt to see how many doctor visits I could make. Quinn was not acting himself. He is usually quiet, mischievous and funny.. but I suddenly found him waking a lot at night, throwing himself backwards in crying fits.. so we spent Tuesday evening at the doc. He has an ear infection. Poor baby. The antibiotic is helping a lot and he's trying to get back to his little old self.

Mr. Pants really wasn't acting any differently than he normally does, but he just had that "look". I'm sure any of you mothers know what I mean. He just looked not right to me. He started coughing a lot at night which is always a key that something is going on. He has a mild asthma that only acts up whenever something respiratory is happening. Thank God he doesn't have allergies. Anyhow, took him to the doc on Thursday and turns out he has a massive sinus infection and needed some more albuterol for his nebulizer. The doc had to show me the inside of his nose because I just couldn't believe it. He had no drainage, but one look with the right tool and holy cow. YUCK! He is also on antibiotics now and is doing his breathing treatments twice a day.

The Dude is hanging in there. I hadn't posted this previously because, well, we had so much other crap going on...

He had been tested in Kindergarten for some academic markings - and through that we found that he learns at an accelerated rate. He just "gets it". Sometimes he can't tell you how or why (as in showing you his work on math problems), but he gets the right answer every time.

Throughout elementary school we struggled to help communicate this to his teachers. He would whiz through his work, finish early and then have zero realization that other kids were still learning, working or taking their test. This turned into teachers giving him extra work, busy work or simply getting onto him about being irritating. It made it unpleasant at times for the poor kid. He survived though.

Now we've come into middle school. And he hates it. He is bored to death. Not in the I'm so smart and I know everything sense. But in the I-hate-block-scheduling sense. His classes meet every other day and when they do meet they are almost 2 hours in length.

Here is where the new issue arose. After realizing something wasn't right, we took him again for specialized testing with the same professionals. Turns out he has a very atypical form of ADHD. (I rolled my eyes and was totally ready to dismiss this at first). ADHD-Predominantly Hyperactive/Impulsive type.

I remember sitting there shaking my head "no" as the clinicians were showing me their 12 page report of findings. But then I stopped and actually listened to what they were saying. And then it all made sense.

The Dude learns at such a fast pace that block scheduling is killing him. The clinician told me that The Dude learns something in 20 minutes for example and then has to sit in class for another hour and a half. It's like slow death for him. Unfortunately his teachers don't allow him to move ahead to the next assignment, the next chapter or whatever. They tell him to find something to do that will keep him busy. Which then turns into him getting antsy, impatient and impulsive. He starts doing things out of boredom without really thinking them through. There is no realization of a consequence.

I told the clinician that the only familiarity I had with ADHD is that 1) it's way over diagnosed, 2) medication is pushed on those kids, 3) those kids can't control themselves and run around slapping everyone.

She reassured me that it is sometimes MISdiagnosed, that medication is in fact an option for SOME kids, but NOT mine. She explained that the medication is mainly for kids who have the more typical form which involved the inability to focus or pay attention. The inability to filter out distractions. She also reassured me that not all ADHD kids run around slapping people. Sorry, that's just my humor in dealing with this.

The challenge the last couple of months has been getting his school district on board with the accommodations he needs. They are slight/minimal, but for some reason the school doesn't care. It seems they aren't concerned because my son does score in the above average range on all of his standardized tests, with the exception of writing. They don't seem to care because he, by all outward appearances, is a well-adjusted kid. They also don't care because he maintains high average to above average grades.

Which makes me want to shake someone. I probably sound like an overbearing crazy woman. But I see his struggles. He is my first baby. I pushed him to do everything because I thought that's what I was supposed to do. It's what is common in so much of society. Crawl early, stand early, walk early, talk early, read early.. do more, do better, do it younger.

Now he is suffering the consequences of my actions. He can read at the college level. He can infer often times what the meaning is. But he doesn't have nearly the understanding he might have if the focus had been on comprehending instead of rote memorization of letters, words and sounds.

I hope I can help fix this. It's really challenging to undo so many years of this. I was a public school kids and so was hubs. In an upcoming post I will talk about my thoughts and feelings on education in this day and age.

I'm sure we will figure things out. Will post more later.

2011 In Review

2011-12-31T23:56:00.000-06:00

As the sun sets on 2011, I write my final post. It's 10:30pm and hubs is at work as I listen to the celebratory gunshots already ringing in the surrounding counties. He is riding in a Tahoe tonight which somehow makes me feel better. I hate when he works New Year's Eve. He works in the ghi-zet-ttto. They have shootings ALL the time, but this holiday is like anarchy. Praying all goes well and he makes it home safe.

The kids are tucked in their beds (miracles do happen) and I've spent some of the quiet time reflecting on what has been a very wild ride for the hubs, for me and for our family.

Here is what it is. We settled our civil suit as mentioned in my previous post. I shalln't disclose the amount, but let's say the check had a LOT of zeroes in it. Before the decimal point. And now we get to start all over saving for our three kids' college. I'm happy I don't have to spend one single day of the new year worrying, living in fear and especially not living in anger anymore. Sure I'm a little bitter, but having a ten thousand pound weight lifted off our shoulders has made me a whole new woman. Hubs and I are finally able to feel some real happiness again. It's a little easier to get out of bed and face a new day and our good times together are no longer overshadowed.

I'm hoping everyone else has a wonderful New Year's Eve and a happy 2012. From our family to yours!!

Still Hanging In

2011-12-05T22:21:00.001-06:00

Where has time gone? Wow.. well, here is a bit of good news. The civil suit; FINALLY OVER. It was set for trial today, but we settled out of court. I will surely create a long, detailed post to let you all know the glorious details. I cannot believe it is finally, FINALLY, over.

Gearing up for Christmas. Mr. Chunky Munkerson just turned 6 months old and The Dude and Mr. Pants are keeping me running in circles.

Hope everyone is well. Photos and stories to come soon.

Our Association

2011-10-17T00:05:00.003-05:00

I am loving my fellow police wives and our police wives association. We had an awesome dinner out the other night. It was sooo awesome to be around women who understand.. who don't look at you crooked or make the "hair face" (you know, that face every human being makes when cleaning out the hairbrush) when I talk about finding bullets in the cupholder of my car.. or uniforms with a million bits of notebook paper folded up with names like KiKi and a birthdate of 2/20/86. Ya know, that could either be a victim of a crime or a stripper.. most of us p.o. wives know it's the former, not the latter.

It is so nice to be in the same room at least once a month with women who can say things like, "Grab my camera out of my purse for me - but watch out so my .380 doesn't fall out!". Breath.Of.Fresh.Air. Ahh.

This time of year is going to get very busy. Lots of community outreach type of activities coming up. It's going to be a lot of work, but a lot of fun.

My girls were there for me this week, the one I like to call HELL WEEK.. the last week of midnights. The one that takes FOREVER and will not end.

Hubs and I had a little spat but it was one that we both needed to have. He came home at 7am and went straight to x-boxing (yes I made that verb up). When he emerged at 10am I laid into him about how it would be nice if he actually came home and spent time with me BEFORE our house turns into wild kingdom. He told me that he comes home wired after midnight shift and can't just lay down and relax. "I can't just turn it off..." He said it all indignant which pissed me off. So I told him, "Oh-I'm sorry, as if I don't lie awake half the night worrying about you only for you to come home and go into your cave?! It's not like I can just turn it off EITHER. You may know what it's like to be a cop, but you have no idea what it's like to be a cop's wife." It actually gave him pause. He apologized, I apologized.. all was right in the world again.

Midnights is the worst thing on earth for me. I feel like time actually goes backwards. His shifts change every 4 weeks and it is hardest for our family during midnights.

Thank God for my gals, the ones who understand, the ones who don't require explanation, the ones who go through the exact same things!!!

Our anniversary is Saturday. My gift from him? THE END OF MIDNIGHT SHIFT ON FRIDAY!!

Texts Between Us

2011-10-10T00:10:00.007-05:00

I received a huge bunch of crap from hubs last night about the fact that I used coupons for certain things on my quick shopping trip. He asked if I am going to become an extreme couponer and so on...

He sent me this text just now:
"I love u mama"

To which I replied, "Well..sorry, I don't have a coupon for that, but I guess since love is free I love you too."

His response: "I have a coupon. It says 'good for your wife's pants half off'."

My reply: "You should see the face I just made.. and now I'm laughing."

Him: "I bet it's beautiful."

And that, folks, is why we are still married. :)

Thinking

2011-08-17T22:14:00.011-05:00

Waiting for hubs to get home. I know I vent a lot on this blog. I used to post a lot of really great things and happy stuff. As much as I sound miserable, I am happy in here somewhere :)

So, with all the boys in bed I sat on the couch and thought.. just thought about hubs and us and times gone by. Here are some of the things I was thinking about. Enjoy.

I love that hubs will lie next to me pretending he's asleep and as soon as I close my eyes, I can quickly open them to find him looking at me with a little grin. Just admiring me (is there really something left to admire?)

When he calls me on his way home from work, he asks me if I'm "watching our show". Our show happens to be MY show.. a SOAP OPERA. I find it totally hilarious that as humiliating as it is for him to admit it, he is totally hooked and refuses to go more than a couple of days without pulling it up on the dvr. Cute. I know it's just because he thinks the one chic is pretty smokin'.

I love that I can kick him right in that side part of your shin that hurts like hell, right on the pressure point, and he will instantly know that means "get up and bring me the crying baby" in the middle of the night. I don't even have to say a word. He stumbles in to get him and brings him to me.

I think it's really hot that he wrestles me when I try to play hard to get when I'm tired and crabby.

I like that he forgives what I can only refer to as my "Kate Gosselin moments". Ok I'm not nearly as vile as that woman, even on my worst day. But I do admit to being pretty bossy now and again. There is a specific way things have to run and that way is 99% my way. Not because I'm a control freak per se, but because he isn't HERE most of the time so I have to keep order. He understands that and loves me anyway.

Our humor is what I think keeps us going. We are able to poke fun and joke with each other. We may not say "I love you" as much as we should, but he says to me, "Thanks for not divorcing me" and I say in return "Not yet anyway". Then we both chuckle and he smacks me on the rear.

Sometimes I want to throw something at him, or change the locks. But, at the end of the day most days I love him even more.

Here is something read at our wedding ceremony: The Art of a Good Marriage by Wilferd Arlan Peterson

The little things are the big things
It is never being too old to hold hands
It is remembering to say "I love you" at least once a day
It is never going to sleep angry

It is never taking the other for granted;
the courtship should not end with the honeymoon,
it should continue through all the years

It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives
It is standing together facing the world
It is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family

It is doing things for each other, not in the attitude of duty or sacrifice, but in the spirit of joy.

It is speaking words of appreciation and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways.
It is not expecting the husband to wear a halo or the wife to have wings of an angel.

It is not looking for perfection in each other.
It is cultivating flexibility, patience, understanding and a sense of humor.

It is having the capacity to forgive and forget.
It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow.
It is finding room for things of the spirit.
It is a common search for the good and the beautiful.

It is not only marrying the right partner, it is being the right partner.

A Little Less Bitchy

2011-08-11T22:37:00.003-05:00

Just for you ML :). Thanks for the advice... so here is a post that puts a smile on my face.

First, my bro just got hired on at my father in law's department!! It's a $12,000 a year pay increase, better benefits and, well, a better department! I'm so proud of him and happy for him. As I like to put it, from the hood to the burbs will be a nice change!! Woo hoo.

Secondly, I survived middle school orientation with three kids in tow. I think I left my sanity at the door, but we made it out alive. I'm so not emotionally ready for my son to start middle school. I actually WANT my son to be innocent and naive and all of those things.. but times are different. When I got a glimpse of the female P.E. uniforms I nearly fell out. I didn't know a 2 inch inseam was appropriate for 11 year old girls. Wow. Ok.

Which makes me feel compelled to share with you a real live conversation from my shopping trip for school supplies. God's honest truth.... from the two ladies walking behind us:

"MMM MM MM.. she is so blessed. 3 boys!"
"Girl you know that's right.. Lord knows this world is full of waayyyy too many skeezas! She is bringin' us the men we neeeeed!"

The Dude turned to me and asked, "Mom, what's a skeezer?".

Ah the joys of motherhood. :)

Rocky

2011-08-09T22:50:00.002-05:00

Ugh.. I am so displeased. Yep, sorry to start this post off so negative. Mr. Baby is now 11 weeks old.. Jesus where does time go? I spent 4 out of these 11 weeks with hubs on mids, which SUCKED. Two kids who cry at bedtime because daddy is leaving for work and then all night with a newborn, then ALL day with two older kids while hubs tries to sleep.

But what I'm displeased with is myself. I have had no grace whatsoever these past few weeks. Sleep deprivation, stress (more on that later) and loneliness. It all got the best of me and spilled over last night.

Hubs is on noons now, which makes life, erm, somewhat easier. However, I am an idiot and I bought him an x-box for father's day in May (PRE-baby arrival). Yeah, well I've been going through this thing where whenever I want to actually spend time with hubs home and conscious, he is too tired to enjoy or be enjoyable, either one. But, BUT, if I fall asleep on the couch mid-sentence, he doesn't prod me to get up and come to bed. Nope. He leaves me on the couch and goes downstairs and plays the damn x-box... until 4a.m..... until he's so tired that he stumbled back upstairs, wakes up the baby and then tells me he's too tired to help me. Then the morning hours while he's actually home and 'available' to do something with me and our kids who miss him, he's zonked and snoozing.

So, last night I pretended to be asleep on the couch after a bit of him being home from work. Sure enough, he crept downstairs and played stupid x-box until 4am. When he crept back upstairs to the couch, where he was no doubt going to pretend he'd been the whole night, I let him fall asleep there. And a good 15 minutes into his slumber I grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him off the couch and yelled, "Wake your ass up... you woke me up, now the baby is up and if we can't sleep, neither can you!". I was a real b****. I hadn't meant to go that far, but something sorta.. erm, snapped?

He got up and helped me get the baby back to sleep.. then I tore him up one side and down the other for a good hour. I half yelled, half cried.. mostly sounded crazy, but all made sense. Yeah, it was bad.

Why, might you ask, was I such a raging loony? Well, several reasons. Wayyyy back in the day my prince charming had a minor indiscretion. And we happened to run into that minor indiscretion out in public recently... where she proceeded to look directly at him and say to him, "Hi, it's so nice to see you", RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Thank God and sonny Jesus my brother was there to physically restrain me. Hubs had what I would consider to be his first shining moment when it came to handling her, and told her not to ever speak to him again. So that helped in that moment.. a little anyway. I suppose I've been stewing a bit and the fact that I'm still trying to shed 15 extra pounds of baby weight doesn't help my confidence. Plus, I took his recent actions with the x-box to be a sign of disinterest in me, our family and our life in general. I told him that he doesn't realize that we all literally sit around waiting for him to be available. And when he becomes available, we'd really like to be penciled in.

It also doesn't help that the civil suit is set for a September trial, but things are in the works to settle without a trial. Pros- no more media, plus gag order, plus SCREW them. Cons- they want money and while we can throw a stupid amount of money their way, it's money that takes away from our future and our kids' futures. That has both of us very peeved and while we are definitely a united front, we are both just beaten down.

Every GOOD thing in life has been overshadowed by all of this legal b.s. It's sooooo exhausting and I'm honestly just ready to get it over with.

Lastly, while I'm telling you this "It's A Wonderful Life" tale, we were tipped off that the local media is going to do a spread on hubs and how he's such a horrible guy that they can't believe he's working as a police officer again. They contacted his Chief and asked him to confirm hubs is an officer at his department. The good news is, the Chief used to be a supervisor on hubs platoon at his old department before he came here. They have a long working history and the Chief prepared a kick ass statement backing up hubs.

I'm glum and self-loathing. Yes, I do sound like a miserable person because lately I AM a miserable person. And after feeling so good about unloading on hubs and his selfishness, I realized, darn. The poor guy is just trying to do something for himself and I just ripped him a new one.

I keep praying for strength and faith and perseverance. I don't want to understand, I just want to get through all of this. I know that's incomplete thinking, but I want to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

In A Nutshell

2011-07-04T23:31:00.005-05:00

It's been a long six weeks. Yep, six weeks already. Quinn is doing awesome, almost sleeping through the night (hoping I didn't just jinx as I type this with very tired eyes). He is getting so big already.. 10 pounds!

The Dude and Mr. Pants have taken to him very well. They love helping with holding the baby and bringing me diapers. The only thing I'm trying to work on is keeping them entertained while juggling the household duties as well as take care of a newborn.

In other news, on June 2nd, my step-dad was hospiced. We'd known for about 18 months he was considered terminal, but he worked every day until May 25th. Then he became weak and took a very sudden nose dive. That was right around the time we were told his chemo stopped working. Hospice came in and took great care of putting up with us and keeping us all sane. He succumbed on June 22 with all of us by his side. He was 56 years old.

It was really hard to watch the dying process again. I went through it with my dad when I was a teenager and then again last year with my brother in law. It sucks. It really sucks. It sucks that you know what is coming, you see all the indications, and there is nothing you can do. What's worse is that you aren't supposed to do anything. We all have an instinct to rescue when someone is hurting, but in all three cases I was expected to stand back and let it happen. There is an overwhelming sense of guilt and agony that comes with that.

But it's what he wanted. To be freed from the pain of prostate and bone cancer. And I've never known anyone to go out exactly how they wanted in a cancer situation, but he DID. He was at home, no hospitals and surrounded by family.

I'm glad he got to meet Quinn and that we all got to hang out with him his final few weeks before he got really bad.

Since then, hubs is back on midnites, the idiot neighbors are still popping off fireworks and the big boys are not asleep yet. It's been a long day and a long bunch of weeks. Just thought I'd drop a line. Take care.

He's Here

2011-05-25T18:14:00.005-05:00

I started contracting on Friday night while at the in-laws. Hubs and I put on our walking shoes and got moving. Before we knew it, we were at the hospital and I was 3cm dilated. They sent me to walk around the floor some more. From midnight until around 6am I stayed active and kept trying to keep things from stalling. It was then that I found out my doctor had "signed off for the weekend" as the nurse put it.

As you can imagine, I was NOT thrilled at the idea of having a doc I'd never even met delivering my baby. But, I suppose I had no choice. So I labored until around 3:45pm Saturday. Then I was at 6cm. The phantom doc directed the nurse to give me pitocin to "speed things up". In it went, up it cranked and at 5pm I was 8cm.

Here is where I will say if you've never had pitocin, you've never been tortured. It is like slow death, every forceful contraction squeezing the life out of you. It was at this time the phantom doc showed his face finally.. this James Lipton looking fellow came in and sat at the end of my bed. I'd even go so far as to say he was a little creepy. He looked at me with a slight grin and asked if I felt like pushing.

Um, hello. There I was, on my hands and knees, butt hanging out for all to see and who the hell is this guy?? Am I SUPPOSED to wanna push? So, I decided to bear down just a little and at that point I realized I was just there and my body was in full command. I turned around, fell backwards on the bed (pretty sure I died for at least 10 seconds), an anesthesiologist walked in to offer me an epidural (are you effing kidding me, hello I'm at TEN CENTIMETERS) and three pushes later, the baby was born. I was in such a state of shock I kept looking for the baby. Turns out he was on my tummy the whole time. Talk about the biggest adrenaline rush of my life.

Zero pain meds made this one of the most interesting experiences of my life. I think if I could have foregone the pitocin it would have been nothing short of perfect. For me, I wouldn't trade it though. My baby arrived perfectly alert, perfectly content and beautiful. Welcoming my sweet little one was one of the happiest moments of my life.

Baby News #2

2011-05-16T19:02:00.002-05:00

It's been a week since my last check up and I am now 2cm dilated and still about 50% effaced. Doc said, "This baby has come down a TOOONNNN" and that all I need is the barometric pressure to change and that he will see me in Labor & Delivery!

He said that "This will be a very fun and exciting week for you guys!". Told me to schedule for Monday but that he'd see me in L&D most likely before that.

I'm getting more excited, but know with this being #3 things are unpredictable and you just have to see what happens.

I think it would be really awesome to have him on the 19th. That was my dad's birthday!!!!!!! Anywho, be on the lookout for updates and photos soon!!

Better Than Nothing

2011-05-10T23:15:00.002-05:00

I'm 1.5 centimeters dilated and 50% effaced. Doc says he'd like to get another 10 days out of me but followed that up with, "We'll see."

We are set for tornadoes on Thursday evening. Both my boys were born during two of the worst tornado outbreaks in our state's history.. so, if I were a bettin' girl, I'd put my money on this Thursday!!

It's so hard to believe it's almost over, although there are days when I feel like I've had the gestation of an elephant. It's been awesome feeling life and love in my tum and all around me these past 9 months.

So glad we didn't let anything hold us back from expanding our family. This baby is very, very special. I feel very fortunate and very loved.

Mother's Day blahs

2011-05-08T15:20:00.003-05:00

Hubs had short change from last night to this morning... I'm hugely pregnant and am painfully lonely today. My brother and sister don't have kids and are both working.. my mom is doing her own thing today and here I sit with two kids who are at each other all day now and I can't keep up.

I keep thinking these stupid emotions are a sign that I'll be in labor any time now, but it keeps eeking along and it's driving me insane.

Glad the hubs is now on noons, but hate feeling so completely overwhelmed and alone. Hasn't been this way for a looongg time.

Hope all you mommas out there have a fabulous Mother's Day!

The Most Awesome Thing Ever

2011-04-20T18:56:00.007-05:00

So, hubs is going on mids Easter Sunday night. We decided today that we would go just the two of us and have our final 3D/4D ultrasound of the baby. We've been dying to see what he looks like and with all the new technology we just couldn't help ourselves. I'm 34 weeks and the timing was right. They did all the measurements and fun stuff like looking at arms & legs and re-confirming he's a boy, etc. But then the most awesome thing ever happened. As the tech was starting to show us his amazing little face, hubs leaned down and talked to him sweetly through my belly.... this is what happened:

He made the most adorable smile at the sound of hubs voice!!! Such an amazing moment. I'm in love all over again!!!!!

Thank You Jesus and God for BOYS

2011-03-22T14:58:00.007-05:00

I am surrounded by friends who are mothers to little girls. And although kids will be kids, it got me thinking about the many (many, many, MANY) reasons I am so thankful to be having my third BOY...

Firstly, I do not understand little girl politics. Like, you can't invite so and so to the birthday party because even though she may be your own daughter's friend, she is also friends with the "enemy". What?.. no, really, what?

Then there's Justin Bieber. I don't even know where to begin. I just learned who the dude was like two weeks ago. And I hear there is this, um, "Bieber Fever"??? Little boys don't listen to this stuff, and if they do, I blame YOU - mom and dad. Sorry but.. BLEH (shuddering). Wonderful, hilarious example here: http://2setsoftwins-helene.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-confess_18.html

Squeals and whining and what are those things called?? Oh yeah, emotions. Good LORD. I really love that if I tell my boys "no", they aren't afraid to bellow a wisecrack or throw out a smart remark in bold tone. I can handle arguing, smart-mouthing, even disrespect. I cannot, however, handle whining and crying. It's like the time I told Mr. Pants I was not going to buy him a monster truck and he said to me, "But I'm your best friend.. and I am NOT an asshole either, mommy."

Fashion: my boys could care less if they are dressed in someone else's clothes, let alone clothes that match. My friend's daughter cried for an hour because her SOCKS weren't the exact same shade of pink as one tiny little frilly thing on her t-shirt. I wanted to paralyze her vocal chords. My boys only think it's time for a bath when they can actually smell themselves and start searching their clothing for the source of the mysterious death/garbage/dirty feet odor. My kids will wear socks that don't match, a shirt that they aren't sure where it came from and on occasion, things that don't even fit. But they won't whine and cry over such fashion faux pa as the wrong color shade.

Being scared of creepy-crawly things on the ground. I watched a little girl at my son's preschool have an absolute panic attack over two microscopic ANTS on the sidewalk outside. She was literally sobbing and whining some unintelligible garble as though a knife-wielding attacker had just run up to her. Good Christ almighty. Mr. Pants thinks a baby crib is for housing pet chickens. Bugs? Oh he thinks those are for trapping with his hands and, on occasion, smashing. Depends on his mood. But I have NEVER, ever heard him go into hysterics over something with more than two legs.

And then there is the obvious. If I had a daughter, and if she survived to adolescence, ONE of us probably wouldn't make it much further than that. I can't imagine dealing with the "you just don't understand me" hormones or the "he really DOES love me" episodes.. or the PMS...

People say that children are a gift from God. I say give me the boys and you can keep the girls.

Time Is Cyclical, Not Linear

2011-03-21T14:29:00.010-05:00

When I met hubs, I loved listening to him talk about philosophy, history, police work and all sorts of stuff. One of the things he opened my eyes to is something his Irish ancestors believed: time is cyclical, not linear. You don't just go from point A to B, etc., but can come back to many points in time, including where you started.

I am more than pleased to say that he is officially getting off of administrative duty and going back to the street. It has been three long years full of fear, doubt, anger and suffering - part of which forced him off the street temporarily and put him behind a desk. I am so happy for him and happy for me, too. After everything that has happened, I never thought I would say I'm glad he is going back - but I am. I had gotten so used to the chaos, the politics, the unfriendly schedule.. when it changed, WE changed.

That life is all we ever knew. And as much as I would find reason to complain, I had no BIGGER reason to complain than seeing the guy I love lose his identity and (almost) his passion.

So, as a cheers to us - here is my adorable hubs, fifteen years ago when he first started, in what he calls his "death photo"... charming, isn't it? I think he's a stud.

Totally Wiped Out

2011-03-14T14:37:00.006-05:00

Well, the lunch was a HUGE success yesterday. I was at the hall with all the other PO wives and we had everything set up and beautifully decorated. I spent Saturday baking all of the desserts. Six gooey butter cakes, four brownies with frosting, and a DOZEN other cakes with different frostings.

It was quite hilarious that the Marshals actually fought over who got to take one whole gooey butter cake with them! Talk about a compliment!! :)

There was one thing that took me by complete and total surprise and made me very sad, besides the obvious. When the family came in, so did my friend from the department. (She dated my cousin for many many years and we became close during that time.) She looked distraught and after the events calmed down a bit, she came over and gave me a huge hug. She proceeded to tell me that she was with the Marshals serving the warrant that day. I had forgotten that after she made Detective, she was assigned to the Violent Offenders Unit. She is the officer who actually put out the aid call and helped carry him out of the house. I was so sad for her. I just hugged her and told her that she was one of the strongest women I know and that I was going to keep her in my thoughts and prayers and reminded her to take care of herself and her two beautiful kids. She told me she had cried so much she couldn't cry anymore but that the visits with the Psychologist will start on Tuesday and she is on leave for a bit so she knows she will make it. What a reminder of how difficult a job and all of the things that can go wrong in an instant.

Hubs and my bro came down when their shifts ended and ate and hung out... one of the highlights of the day was after the Marshals were "feeling good" (ahem).. they all decided that the pipers would switch instruments!! The pipers took the drums and the drummers took the pipes.. it was HI-LAR-IOUS!!! Got good video of that.

They also played three great little sets (the right way, ha ha) and it was just amazing.

I think the most amazing part of my day was when Stacia Hylton, Director of the US Marshals came into the kitchen and with tears in her eyes told us how thankful she was for all we had done. She said, "You know, these Marshals don't get to live near their families.. so when you ladies get together and do things like this, it reminds them they really DO have a family, no matter where they're at.. thank you all from the bottom of my heart. We were completely overwhelmed to see all that you were able to do with only a couple of days notice. Your time, effort and care mean more than I can ever express."

She was just an amazing woman. I don't think the day could have ended any better than that.

I call it a huge success!

Humbled

2011-03-11T14:04:00.002-06:00

I was humbled this morning when I was asked to help host the funeral lunch for the family of U.S. Marshal John Perry this Sunday.

When the Marshal's service called, we were anticipating about 100 folks coming in from Washington and the rest of the country, but were moved to find that they will be rounding up 350+ leos and bringing them in for us to feed and entertain.

I am honored to be serving Marshal Perry's family and all of the folks in law enforcement. Here's hoping my service is up to par.

Please say a prayer for his wife and three children.

http://www.odmp.org/officer/20773-deputy-marshal-john-perry

What's New?

2011-03-08T11:36:00.004-06:00

I've been on hiatus for a bit. Just a lot going on with us. License issue over, civil suit heading toward high gear... getting ready for this baby... I'm running myself in circles.

I only have 11 weeks left until Mr. Baby arrives. Holy crap, where did time go? I have all the "stuff" I need, just have done absolutely nothing in the nursery. Like move out the office furniture, paint the walls, reassemble the crib, haul in the dresser and rocking chair... but I did buy the paint. Doesn't that count for something? And it's no-voc so I can actually participate in the painting!

My basement storage room looks like a diaper warehouse. Decided to stockpile like 3 industrial size boxes per month since month 1. So glad I did. Made it easier to spend the money in advance. All of the baby clothes are washed and hung neatly in the closet and I picked up the last few things at Babies R Us. Baby bathtub, new stroller, bibs and burp cloths. I honestly can't think of anything else I need since I still had everything from previous baby.

Trying to keep my exercise up, although I am whimping out and have admittedly eaten like crap. SOOOO mad at myself. Damn girl scout cookies. Now that I've devoured most of them, I actually have returned to a more agreeable diet for a pregnant chic. Lots of fresh fruits and veggies, oatmeal, grilled chicken and occasionally a bite or two of red meat for the iron. No more pasta (didn't eat a lot of that anyway due to hubs), bread or fast-food.

Yesterday I felt like a cow that had been tipped. I love being pregnant, just hate having to go through this stressful legal crap at the same time.

The plaintiff's attorney was really grasping at straw's hoping we had a clause in our homeowners policy that covered civil suits.. uh, wrong! We were able to confirm with our agent that our policy strictly covers incidents related solely to our property. This type of civil suit would be covered under an umbrella policy, which we do not have. Yay us.

From what our team said, that really stuck it in and broke it off for the greedy, malicious piece of crap suing hubs. So much so that they anticipate the case being withdrawn. "With the cash cow gone, the attorney no longer has a real interest and will not recoup his costs in this federal case....".

I'm just tired of being tired.. and stressed.. and nickel and dimed to death. We WILL win, damn it.

Happy Valentine's Day to me

2011-02-14T10:00:00.004-06:00

Hello wifeys out there. How many of you are celebrating this joyous day without the hubs? It's ok, we're all pretty much used to it by now, right?!

I am lucky enough (or unlucky enough, depending) that I can catch lunch with the hubs today. Woo hoo.. and the kids are at school (bonus!). He is working noons.

To start my day off right, seeing I'm pregnant and all, I've jumped right in with a gluten-free chocolate cupcake with strawberry icing and a very large cup of decaf coffee. This baby is going to hate me shortly, but for now I am happy to be indulging in this sinfulness.

I have to say that I have never been huge on Valentine's day, but it is a day I stop to remind myself that even through all the b.s. and tough times, I do love my sweetie. He is a great husband, an amazing father and my best friend!

Hope you and yours enjoy each other today, however you can! Love notes on the refrigerator, breakfast, lunch, dinner or midnight snack. Even over leftovers.

Spare Eleven Minutes

2011-01-28T10:52:00.002-06:00

I encourage you to scroll forward in this video to around 8 minutes and watch it until the end. This is something I will never forget.

http://www.justnews.com/video/26601377/index.html

Two Important Questions

2011-01-18T21:52:00.001-06:00

The Dude got out of the shower tonight and while still wrapped in his towel appeared next to me and said:

"Mom, two important questions; Is it actually possible to cut off your butt and where exactly is your liver located?"

I looked at him quite sideways and said, "Kid, what the hell were you doing in that shower?"

"Never mind, I don't think I want to know."

Interesting Moments This Week

2011-01-14T16:36:00.005-06:00

Yes, two posts in one day. Apparently I'm in rare form being pregnant and for pure entertainment (and repentance) purposes, I've decided to share with you things that have spilled out of my mouth this week.

The Dude hates blowing his nose. What the hell? Blowing your nose makes it feel much better than (what he calls) wiping it. Anyway, he wanted to do things his way and as I stood in horror watching him smear snot all over his face with one thin, itsy-bitsy piece of tissue, I said, "Jesus kid, I hope you don't wipe your ass like you wipe your nose. Sloppy and all over the place."

Hubs comes home really late at night (what else is new) and as I am FINALLY drifting off to sleep after wrangling all the pillows in the house and getting the blankets just right, he announces that he's hungry. First he flips on the tv to English League Soccer replays, turns the damn volume way up and then departs the room. When he returns, he sits down on his squeaky side of the bed and begins to chomp the hell out of an entire bag of microwave popcorn. This is after he turns every light in the house on to make it into the kitchen, where he proceeds to SLAM the G.D. microwave door no fewer than 3 times in the popping process. Apparently I say things to him which a.) I don't remember at all or b.) he is totally making up. Last night I said to him, "Hey why don't we put a handful of rocks in a glass and shake them up while we're at it. Oh and can we PLEASE turn on some tv show that has nothing but blaring lights and sirens and crank it up to full blast.... because ANY of these things is more enjoyable than listening to you chomp that G.D. popcorn for the next 20 minutes!!!!"

Mr. Pants is 4. He is adorable, but he is a stubborn Irish little horse's ass. He has become addicted to a new monster truck video game on the Wii. Our Wii is in our finished basement play area specifically because the child wants to do nothing else and this keeps it at somewhat of a distance. (He won't go down there without someone). So every day he wakes up and asks if he can "be Afterburner on Sander Hills when I jump over the billl--dings?" To which my reply is always "no." He has decided to follow my 'no' response up with, "but if I don't get to play it I'll be sad." I told him that he'd just have to get over it and that if he gets too sad about it, I'll just have to ship the monster truck game off to Jackson's house (the bad kid at school).

I am seriously having some Kate Gosselin moments. I mean I've even had to cover my mouth in disgust at some of these slips. Holy hell. Hormones are nothing to mess with.

It's Friday, which is redemption day (I hope). Planning on taking all of the boys, including hubs, out to do something fun. Please pray that I can behave.

Where Babies Come From

2011-01-14T16:25:00.002-06:00

The Dude (10 years old) was telling me how excited he is to have a little brother coming this spring. We were driving to Walgreens and I was mumbling something like, "Yeah it's going to be really fun. Just think, now there will be a little brother to irritate YOUR little brother." That remark made him smile from ear to ear. Like I just delivered the best news he'd ever heard!

I was flipping through the tracks on the cd and spacing out thinking on all the things I had to do the next day... when he asked very directly, "Mom, where do babies come from?"

I froze. Well, shit. I wasn't exactly prepared for this. In my naive mind I was thinking he'd remain young, innocent and naive.. and live at home until he was 30 and had his PhD.

So, with anxiety and apprehension in my voice I asked him, "Well, what do you mean 'where' do they come from... specifically?"

He replied, "Like, I know sometimes they cut them out of your stomach. But if they don't cut them out, where do they come out of?".....

Crap, crap, crap. "Um......" (followed by perpetual silence)He swiftly interrupted: "Mom, it's ok. You can just tell me. Are you afraid to tell me, cuz I think I already know..... They come out of your butt, don't they?"

I couldn't decide whether to laugh hysterically, cry or what. I didn't want to embarrass him and it is a serious subject (a lot more serious when someone far more mature than me is addressing it)...

But after much contemplation, I said, "Well, pretty much. It's not technically a woman's butt where they come from. You know how boys have one part and girls have another- and the part I'm talking about is the part that separates the boys from the girls?"

I could see the wheels turning and then suddenly grinding to a halt in his mind and he said, "Ooohhhhhh.... I get it now. OH GOD THAT'S ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING. HOW DOES A BABY EVEN FIT? I MEAN AREN'T BABIES THE SIZE OF A WATERMELON!!"

He didn't ask me to explain the art of creating a baby. I think he was in such a state of shock that he either forgot to ask how they're made or he just decided it wasn't something he wanted to hear about. Either way, thank you. Yay God.

Victory

2011-01-04T20:36:00.020-06:00

"It is better to lead from behind and to put others in front,

especially when you celebrate victory when nice things occur.

You take the front line when there is danger.

Then people will appreciate your leadership."

--N.M.

The worst is finally over. And while we celebrate one hell of an amazing victory, it's most humbling for me to remember that my husband lead from behind. His difficult sacrifice was one that afforded thousands of officers in our state the right to fair treatment when under investigation. That's just hubs. Humble, unselfish, patient and amazing. It's not in what he says, it's in what he does. It's who he is that comes through loud and clear and makes a lasting impression.

I am so happy, so proud and so overhwhelmed that when so much has gone so wrong, something - the most important thing, has gone right.

The folks that run the show decided after media crucifixion, reduction in pay, and loss of job and tenure that the poor guy deserved "time served". That simple. It's done.

So now it's time for me to say a sincere and grateful thank you to all of those near, far, known and unknown who have stood by us, prayed for us, laughed and cried with us and encouraged us to keep on living and be happy. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts. The kindness of others has carried us farther than we ever could have imagined.

Anyone who doubts "the blue family" has never been a part of it.

Christmas Miracle

2010-12-28T22:22:00.004-06:00

My husband was home until 10:30a.m. Were you expecting something more exciting? Sorry :)

We were actually able to sleep next to each other on Christmas Eve and woke up, together, in our bed, on Christmas morning. That was my Christmas miracle.

Not sure what was up with The Dude. He's a 10 year old boy but that morning I would have almost traded him for a 13 year old girl. No kidding. I suppose it's that wonderful change in hormones that's on its way (referring to HIM, my hormonal shift is in full swing now that I'm prego again). Anyhow, after a talk about being nice and appreciating togetherness on Christmas, the rest of the day rocked. He was all better.

Although we are STILL.freaking.waiting on our letter in the mail, we decided to ignore our worries and just be happy! It was great. I kept looking at hubs like "who are you?". So not used to holidays together.

The kids loved all of the overpriced junk we bought them, which we swiftly regretted due to lack of space and impending baby, but hey.. they were smiling and giggling and we were all together. I LOVE days like that. They are so few and far between.

Hope your Christmases were fabulous.

PS-Meadowlark, you are my new best friend. I LOVED the post about The Year Kenny Loggins Ruined Christmas!!! Laughed until I was choking!!

The Year In Review

2010-12-20T12:58:00.014-06:00

Last night I missed a call from my Bro. He left a message which I didn't know about until 4 o'clock this morning. I always get mad when I miss his calls. I like talking to him and he usually has a great story for me. But as I listened to the message, I became a little worried.. I could hear that tone in his voice and knew he was rattled. He said, "Oh I was just calling to tell you an amusing story about how I just almost shot somebody." He's been working days mixed with some secondary bike patrol lately (at night)... so I knew he was sleeping by then and didn't want to wake him.

I called him early this morning when I knew he'd be back on the street and he told me what happened last night. Let me preface this whole thing by saying that my bro works in the MOST DANGEROUS city in the U.S.. Ok so much for anonymity, but whatever.

He was doing patrol in a very high crime area. His department puts in a lot of requests for officers to work secondary shifts as "Ghetto Foot Soldiers".

So a call came to him for a report of a prowler/suspicious person. Just so happened my bro was right at that very location and happened to look up and see a guy matching the suspect's description walking away from him with one hand in his pocket.

Bro called out to the guy, "Hey man, take your hands out of your pocket and come here so I can talk with you." .... Guy kept walking away without acknowledging bro.

Bro follows him on his bike and again calls out the same command. Guy kept walking away.

This went for nearly a block and finally bro got mad and ditched his bike in the street and unholstered and walked up closer to the guy.

The guy sort of casually glanced back at bro and kept walking.. then it registered and the guy turned all the way around quickly with eyes like dinner plates and suddenly pulled his hand out of his pocket and raised it up in the air......

.....and that's when he removed his earphones.

Thanks to bro's cool-as-a-cucumberness he didn't shoot the guy. It was so sudden bro barely had time to make the right choice.

The guy nearly had a heart attack - and bro then questioned why the guy was walking at night in that neighborhood. It's a predominantly African-American community, but as my brother jokingly put it, the guy was "about as black as Wayne Brady."

Anyway, long and short, the guy checked out ok and bro had no reason to detain him. Bro politely pointed out that if a police officer with a gun was behind him for a city block without him noticing, he'd hate to see what would happen if some thugs tried to rob him.

It turned into a major joke at his station--"Oh no look out for the guy with the ipod...". But in all reality the guys knew it was a tough situation which could have ended tragically. His department has had so much violence and loss this year alone, nobody takes things too lightly.

In March an officer was killed in a car accident while pursuing a burglary suspect. He was a former Marine and served in Iraq. He left behind his newly-wed wife.

In May an officer was shot EIGHT times by a .40 while conducting a traffic stop at a busy gas station. He survived and even gave a thumbs up when being wheeled into the trauma center. I suppose it was no shock to him, seeing as he'd been shot in major firefight as a Marine in Iraq the previous year. For that he received a purple heart. For his bravery in the on-duty incident which almost killed him, he received the medal of valor and officer of the year award.

In October two of his co-workers were shot on a routine traffic stop by the car's passenger.. all because the guy said he hates the police and wanted to kill them. Thankfully both officers survived, but one is STILL in rehab and has had three strokes. He's trying to talk again but isn't there yet.

On Saturday morning one of their Sergeants committed suicide on patrol, with his duty weapon. He leaves behind a wife and kids. He had been on the force 16 years.

More news.. which is saddening and frustrating. One of the Det. Sgts. in my father-in-law's department got shot in the face the other night. He was doing surveillance in a neighboring shithole when a guy walked up and opened the car door.. he saw the computers and realized it was a police officer and shot him in the face. Failed carjacking, but successful assault 1st on a LEO, ACA and all the other good stuff.

By the grace of God, the officer was able to pull his head back just far enough from the revolver that the shot under the chin did nothing but blow out some teeth. Completely missed major arteries and structures as well as the brain.

This particular officer is very near and dear to our family. He has been a friend of hubs for 26 years.

He is going to survive, but right now the suspect is still at large. Manhunt is underway.

Please pray for this and all these officer's families that they can somehow manage to salvage an enjoyable Christmas this year.

Here is hoping for a much brighter, happier and SAFER 2011.

It's A......

2010-12-18T15:25:00.003-06:00

BOY!!!

I had figured it was from the beginning, but didn't know until today!! Hubs was SO excited!!!

3 Weeks Down, 1 To Go???

2010-12-14T19:42:00.006-06:00

Well, it has been three weeks today since our little meeting. The lady said we'd have the final decision in the mail within four weeks. I'm hoping that if she does decide to deliver the news next week, that it will be nothing but excellent.... perhaps somewhere in that cold cavernous soul of hers she'll have it to give us a GOOD Christmas present.

I keep telling myself there is no way she'll make us wait until the week before/of Christmas only to devastate us, right?!

In other news, I got hubs a new phone tonight and what good timing. His died today - can't actually speak on it, can only text. So, although it's a Christmas gift, he will be getting it early. That's ok. He's got other stuff coming his way, and besides, how many of us ever celebrate Christmas ON Christmas anyway?! Not when you're married to a LEO.

Hubs managed Friday off, so I'm considering going to get my ultrasound that day so we can find out if we're having another boy. Don't get me wrong, I'll be happy with a boy or a girl, but I have TONS of boy stuff. I kept everything from Mr. Pants and if I need to get rid and buy girl stuff, I want to be prepared.

Ok wow I am totally rambling. Why is this news? JeBus. I guess this is what I do when I'm anxious.

So, well I'm heading back to the kitchen to cook ridiculous amounts of food for the next few weeks and stick it all in the freezer.

Have a good night. I hope you are all warmer than I am!

Seriously?

2010-12-09T12:57:00.020-06:00

I am so incredibly lazy today. And spaced out, too. I was eating a sandwich for lunch and when I looked down I realized I was on my last bite.. so I looked for the other half of my sandwich and realized I had already eaten the damn thing! How does one eat an entire sandwich and not happen to notice? Seriously?

I suppose I can blame it on the baby!

I've been slacking and haven't posted an update about hubs's license. Well, a bunch of us family and police officers showed up at the Capitol and were asked to speak on hubs' behalf.

It was rather intimidating because the broad running the deal is a former prosecutor and still thinks and acts like one. The panel consisted of her and three other folks - so the break down was two men and two women.

It was an open forum, so everyone in the room was given the floor to speak about hubs and his character, his professionalism and all that good stuff. It was so touching that I found myself in tears (not being all dramatic and boo-hoo), very touched by the way that so many people look at him - as a man, a husband, a father and a police officer. It blew me away.

Then of course, I got to go last. I felt a huge lump in my throat.. between the emotions, the anxiety and the fear of sounding like an ass, I just flew by the seat of my pants.

Here is what I said.. at least what I remember. Hope it wasn't stupid.

Thank you for taking the time to hear what we all have to say today. It’s clear that there is a lot of emotion in this room today, and it’s all because we love and respect this man so much. I will tell you that the past two years, eight months and twenty-three days have been the hardest of my life. It is a chapter of our lives I am anxious to move on from.

This entire family has spent 997 sleepless nights worrying about whether or not my husband will be able to continue the career he loves, the career he is half-way to retirement in, and the career he has spent his entire adult life doing.

I can tell you that my husband is not a perfect man, as no man is. But I have seen my husband in many stressful situations both on and off-duty and I have never seen him fall short of doing the right thing. I know it’s easy to view my words as biased, but my words are true and are based on fact.

There are too many factual instances to relay to you, but I would like to share those which I am most proud of. Two days before the birth of our son, I received a call from my husband’s Sergeant telling me he was in the --- river attempting to rescue five drowning children. The kids were on an outing with a church group at the riverside area when one of the boys went into the water and was viciously swept away by the current. He was quickly followed into the water by his four young relatives, none of whom knew how to swim. My husband was in that water, sinking into the mud beneath, with forty pounds of gear in one hundred plus degree heat. Never once did he stop and say “this is too hard” or “there’s nothing I can do”. And not once did he stop and ask the fifty or so onlookers to jump in with him. He struggled and fought to save those kids, and the reality is, unfortunately none of them survived. Those poor parents were left without their five children. And my husband lives with the pain of knowing that every day.

While I was and always will be saddened by this situation, I remember every day that MY child could have come into this world two days later with no father. I think it’s fair to say this is something we all take for granted; when you love or are married to a policeman they want you to forget the risk and the danger. They find a way of dismissing your fears and worries because they don’t want you to lose sleep at night over what might happen to them. But we cannot and should not be allowed to forget – no one should.

In this line of work the risks are great and the rewards are few. The pay is mediocre at best, the benefits barely cover him if he gets hurt and sustaining a family of soon-to-be five on a civil servant’s paycheck is a challenge I have become an expert in managing.

I can tell you with the most selfish part of my being I would love nothing more than for my husband to get a desk job working straight days with weekends off – with heat and air conditioning and a computer to play on. I’d love for him to walk away from all of this… the risks, the politics, the drama and everything else that comes along with it.

My husband is highly educated. He speaks two languages and is fluent in a third. He has worked as a translator for countless departments in our metro area and has trained many a rookie in how to beat the streets and come home every night to their families.

I could continue with his many wonderful characteristics, but I’m going to close my plea to you with one last thing.

My husband received a very important award from his department for his valor during an extremely difficult situation. One year to the day before the incident which brings him here today, he was dispatched to a scene where an intoxicated, suicidal male was threatening his wife and his friend with a handgun and was also threatening to shoot himself.

(Hubs) was first on scene and quickly established a perimeter. He called for an ambulance to stage at a safe location which he dictated. He advised the other responding officers of the perimeter and kept them all at a safe distance. My husband was able to calm the wife who was hiding behind the door of his patrol car. She was hysterical, screaming and crying, and begged (hubs) to go in the house and get the man.

Around that time the man fired three shots inside the house. A moment later, he came out the front door and pointed a gun at (hubs) from the front porch. The man fired into the air and went back in the house.

As the sun started to rise, (Hubs) was able to initiate phone contact with the man and after a 20 minute negotiation, the man peacefully surrendered into my husband’s arms, crying.

His patience, determination and bravery allowed this six hour standoff to end peacefully with no injuries to the suspect or any police officers.

This exemplifies not only the kind of police officer he is, but the kind of man he is. He is patient, compassionate and unwavering in his dedication to caring for others.

All of the things you have heard from us today are reasons I implore you to allow my husband to continue his career. Taking away his badge would be to take away his entire identity. This is who he is and this is what he is meant to do.

Thank you.

---So the stone cold Cruella looked at me with two big tears welling up in her eyes and says, "Thank you. You can look for our final decision in the mail within four weeks."

The Tablecloth

2010-12-05T22:24:00.006-06:00

Understand that things happen for a reason

The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned
to their first ministry, to reopen a church
in suburban Brooklyn , arrived in early October
excited about their opportunities. When they saw
their church, it was very run down and needed
much work. They set a goal to have everything
done in time to have their first service
on Christmas Eve.

They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls,
painting, etc, and on December 18
were ahead of schedule and just about finished.

On December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving
rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.

On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church.
His heart sank when he saw that the roof had
leaked, causing a large area of plaster about
20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall
of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit,
beginning about head high.

The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor,
and not knowing what else to do but postpone
the Christmas Eve service, headed home.
On the way he noticed that a local business was
having a flea market type sale for charity, so he
stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful,
handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth
with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross
embroidered right in the center. It was just
the right size to cover the hole in the front
wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.

By this time it had started to snow. An older
woman running from the opposite direction was
trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor
invited her to wait in the warm church for
the next bus 45 minutes later.

She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor
while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put
up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor
could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and
it covered up the entire problem area.

Then he noticed the woman walking down the center
aisle. Her face was like a sheet. "Pastor,"
she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?"
The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check
the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into
it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had
made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria .

The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor
told how he had just gotten "The Tablecloth". The
woman explained that before the war she and
her husband were well-to-do people in Austria .

When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave.
Her husband was going to follow her the next week.
He was captured, sent to prison and never saw her
husband or her home again.

The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth;
but she made the pastor keep it for the church.
The pastor insisted on driving her home. That
was the least he could do. She lived on the other
side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn
for the day for a housecleaning job.

What a wonderful service they had on Christmas
Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the
spirit were great. At the end of the service, the
pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door
and many said that they would return.

One older man, whom the pastor recognized
from the neighborhood continued to sit in one of the
pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he
wasn't leaving.

The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on
the front wall because it was identical to one
that his wife had made years ago when
they lived in Austria before the war and how
could there be two tablecloths so much alike?

He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he
forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was
supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and
put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home
again all the 35 years between.

The pastor asked him if he would allow him to
take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten
Island and to the same house where the pastor
had taken the woman three days earlier.

He helped the man climb the three flights of
stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on
the door and he saw the greatest Christmas
reunion he could ever imagine.

This story was originally published in a 1954 issue of Reader's Digest. It's attributed to Rev. Howard C. Schade, pastor of First Reformed Church of Nyack, NY. He died in 1989 without ever revealing the names of the couple.

Come The Hell On

2010-11-22T15:23:00.004-06:00

Patience is not a virtue. Tomorrow just needs to get here already.

Thank the Lord my dear sweet bro is going to drive me to the Capitol tomorrow. Hubs is riding with his dad in his dad's police car. I kind of got the "no girls allowed" vibe.. not that my FIL would ever say that, but I think he wants some father son time. I get it.

It is a 200 mile drive, so we are leaving at the crack of dawn and everything is set to go down at 10a.m. Again, SO freaking thankful my bro is going to be there with me and for me.. for us, really!

Today is hubs's birthday. The boys and I made his gluten free cake last night and as soon as he walked in, he took a huge slice and buried it in ice cream! I was so glad he was happy. Only bad part was that the boys were already asleep.

I'm getting ready to head to the baby doc. So glad there is no pants dropping today because I am seriously not in the mood with all the stress building for tomorrow. I know it's horrible for me and the baby to get all amped up, but that's just my way of coping.. er, not coping. Whateva.

It will be interesting to see what my blood pressure looks like?! Hoping it's in a safe range.

I should be able to hear the heartbeat on doppler today. Very cool. Wish hubs could be there, but he's working. I'll be by my lonesome at the visit... bummer.

Anywho, I haven't had much of an appetite today, think it's nerves for sure. Been making myself eat and hubs made me an amazing salad at lunch!

Now I'm trying to keep from going into an after lunch coma. Tired.. think the baby is super growing or something this week. I am wiped out.

Just needed to dump some thoughts for a minute. Catch you all tomorrow.

One plus One - Need Good Thoughts Please

2010-11-19T16:43:00.003-06:00

So, it's finally wrapping up. Hubs has to be at our state capitol on Tuesday (the day after his birthday) to find his final "punishment".

The licensing board is asking for a one year suspension followed by one year of probation on his license. Mind you, there is no criminal aspect to this.. it's only civil and related to his license.

But, that would mean not carrying the badge for an entire year.

I can't even bear the thought of it. It's devastating and it hurts so much.

His attorney is excellent and is actually very well connected (for lack of a better term) in our state, which will hopefully help. This has been so long and drawn out.. I just want to get it over with.

I told hubs that IF it results in an actual year long suspension, I will have to find a way of accepting it. I have already told myself it will be a way of him having more time with us and the new baby. I have told myself it will be the powers that be keeping him from harm if just for a while.

I am a wreck. Just trying to give it up and let it be. Whatever happens, happens. Right?

A Cop's Advice On Dealing With Cops from Huffington Post

2010-11-19T11:17:00.006-06:00

The following is an article was produced by the Huffington Post on 11/15/2010. Neill Franklin, Executive Director, Law Enforcement Against Prohibition (LEAP), provided his "expertise" on how to deal with Police Officers. If you'd like to get your blood boiling, go ahead and keep reading.

"As a 33-year law enforcement veteran and former training commander with the Maryland State Police and Baltimore Police Department, I know how easy it is to intimidate citizens into answering incriminating questions or letting me search through their belongings. This reality might make things easier for police looking to make an easy arrest, but it doesn't always serve the interests of justice. That's why I believe all citizens should understand how to protect their constitutional rights and make smart decisions when dealing with officers of the law.

Unfortunately, this important information has remained largely unavailable to the public, despite growing concerns about police misconduct and the excesses of the war on drugs. For this reason, I agreed to serve as a technical consultant for the important new film, 10 Rules for Dealing with Police. The 40-minute docudrama aims to educate the public about basic legal and practical survival strategies for handling even the scariest police encounters. It was produced by the civil liberties group Flex Your Rights and is narrated by former federal judge and acclaimed Baltimore trial lawyer William "Billy" Murphy, Jr.

The opening scene portrays Darren, a young black man getting pulled over. He's driving home from college. This is the fifth time he's been pulled over in a year. Frustrated and scared, Darren immediately breaks Rule #1: Always Be Calm & Cool. Mouthing off to the officer, Darren aggressively exits the car and slams the door. The officer overreacts, dropping Darren with a taser shot to his chest.

Should the officer have tased Darren in that situation? Probably not. Would the officer likely be disciplined? No. But that's not the main point of 10 Rules. The point is that the choices you make during the course of such encounters have a massive impact on whether it ends with a simple warning, a tasing -- or worse. This is true even if you've done nothing illegal.

While being calm and cool is key to getting the best possible outcome, it's not enough to keep police from violating your constitutional rights. For example, when the officer commandingly asks Darren "You're not hiding any AK-47s in there? You don't mind if I take a look?", Darren gets tricked like most people do.

Intimidated and unaware of other options, he consents to the search. The officer carelessly dumps his bags, accidentally shattering Darren's laptop on the asphalt. In another "what if" scenario, the officer finds a small amount of marijuana hidden away. While someone else might have left it there, Darren winds up getting arrested.

What few people understand, but police know all too well, is that your constitutional rights only apply if you understand and assert them. Unless they have strong evidence (i.e. probable cause) police need your permission to search your belongings or enter your home. The instant you grant them permission to invade your privacy, many of your legal protections go out the window and you're left on the hook for anything illegal the police find, as well as any damage they cause in the process.

Of course, even if you know your basic rights, police officers are trained to shake your confidence. If you refuse a search, I might respond by threatening to call in a drug-sniffing dog and sternly reminding you that things will go much easier if you cooperate. Creating a sense of hopelessness for the suspect enables us to break down their defenses and gain compliance. In the film, we show several variations on these common threats, but the main lesson is that it doesn't matter what the officer says; you still have to remain calm and protect your rights.

In today's world of smart phone video, YouTube and Twitter, stories of police abuse travel fast, creating greater awareness of the problem of police misconduct. Unfortunately, this heightened awareness often serves to reinforce the notion that "cops can do whatever they want." It's true that much work remains to be done towards ensuring police accountability, but the very first step is to educate the public about basic constitutional rights.

Citizens who understand their rights are much less likely to experience negative outcomes, both on the street and in a court of law. Until each of us has the ability to protect our individual rights and recognize injustices against others, we're not likely to accomplish much in the realm of broader policy reform.

I hope 10 Rules for Dealing with Police will be embraced by parents, teachers, activists, and even police departments as we work towards reducing the tension that too often characterizes the relationship between cops and the communities they serve."

Of course the idiots unleashed their comments and started to really attack the Police - nothing uncommon after an article like this. What I enjoyed the most was one sole comment which happened to be posted by my brother. His comment was in response to a woman who said that the Police "pick on innocent people because they are too afraid to go after the gangbangers and violent criminals."

Here is what his response was:

"I am a police officer in one of the most violent cities in America. Stop on by and see how "docile" our "targets" are. And bring a fresh pair of undies. All you tinfoil hat-wearing paranoiacs will do well to remember that we're the ones who come running to help you when the shit hits the fan, and we're not out to pick on innocent civilians.We get paid shit, work lousy hours in lousy conditions, get shot, get hit by cars, harangued by people who are in trouble for their own stupid mistakes..... and then we get called "lazy" and "thugs" by a bunch of gutless know-nothings who spout bile from the comfort of their desk chairs.The day you run toward the gunshots or the fire or the blood instead of away from it, I'll be more than happy to hear your opinion about my job. "

From The Mouths Of Babes

2010-11-16T21:21:00.003-06:00

Tonight in the mall, my little one decided to be a royal p.i.a. It was the mall, which I rarely even venture into, so I totally got it.

On our way back to the car, we had to cut through one last store to get out of the building. Mr. Pants stopped at the sight of a remote control car he really wanted.

This is what I heard come out of his mouth:

"Mommy, I love you. I'm your best friend...... And I'm not an asshole either."

The entire store erupted in hysterical laughter. Shocked, I counted to five in my head and calmly said, "That's not very nice. Who said that to you? Did Jackson say that to you?" (he's the bad kid at school)

Mr. Pants' reply?: "No Mommy, YOU did."

How on earth was I supposed to even follow that up???

I just gently took his hand and headed for the door. I called Daddy on the way home and he could not stop laughing. It lightened his mood after working 6 in a row of 12s.

Never a dull moment.

Mildly Irritated

2010-11-15T13:09:00.016-06:00

I really hate feeling like I have to qualify things I say. I didn't use to do such a thing, but in today's world.. I kind of feel like I must. So- this is merely a vent post, not intended to offend any one sole person or group of people in any way, shape or form. Now then....

I went out to dinner with my much younger sister last night. Her and her girlfriend. Who I am not a big fan of. My sister is in her very early twenties and currently attends one of the most liberal universities in the nation. Ok fine. I'm not a stuffed shirt conservative or anything, but I'm not the most liberal being either.

My sister and I have the same mother but different fathers. I am ten years her senior. I used to wipe both her butt and her nose (though not at the same time). She is one of those, what do you call it?... "KIDults" or in a more politically correct fashion, "Emerging Adult". You know, the ones that think they know all about everything because they've passed high school and are now in college? The ones who think because they manage to split rent with three other girls they are grown up, despite the fact that mom and dad still pay for the car, the car insurance, the cell phone and the health insurance? Oh, and the TUITION?

I love my sister, I love her dearly in fact. But I'm saddened. I don't see or hear much from her anymore because she is busy being a self-absorbed twenty-something know-it-all. That's not a crime by any means. We've all been there. The selfish part of me misses her though.

When she was in high school, she was the all-American kind of girl that just made people want to puke. Straight A student with a 4.0, Captain of the cheerleaders, funny, outgoing and unlike many high schoolers: driven. She received acceptance letters from schools like Purdue, Bellarmine, Murray State and NYU. She chose none of them. Ok fine. She ended up at a private university 8 miles from home.

And then she decided to come out as a lesbian. Totally love and support her and I really knew since she was about 12 that the day would come. Reassured her that I love her and accept her and that nothing about being a lesbian would make me love her any less.

That was a bunch of years ago and to be honest, I'm starting to realize maybe that statement is untrue. I mean, I LOVE her, but we've just totally lost that special bond we used to have.

Here is what I mean. The girl has completely enveloped herself in all things gay. What do I mean? I mean that every single thing she does from sun up to sun down involves forming some committee or marching and protesting about all the atrocities that gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgendered folks face.

It's like she doesn't want to be "labeled", yet she makes every single aspect of her entire life so much about gay everything that a straight person can't even hold a conversation with her anymore. She thinks all the struggles in life revolve around why women can't pee standing up and how the biggest crisis on earth is not having enough transgendered restrooms in America.

Yes, there are very real, very sad and very wrong challenges that gay folks are faced with every day. My post is NOT intended to downplay their struggles or the importance of finding some resolve.

MY struggle is with a beloved sister who has become someone I no longer know. Someone I don't feel comfortable around because she overanalyzes every single freaking word I say as being "unsupportive" or "not convincing enough" about my acceptance of her and her chosen lifestyle.

The other thing which seriously, honestly and without lying disturbs me is the fact that she chopped off all of her waist length gorgeous naturally curly hair and now looks like a guy. I think that is a perfectly normal peeve for someone who loves someone else. Her changing her appearance was more of a shock to me than changing her actual lifestyle.

Now she spends her life earning money by dressing up as a guy doing drag shows. Yeah, the kind with stuffed pants and facial hair drawn on with eyeliner and taped boobs.

I struggle with the fact that SHE took it upon herself without even consulting me to explain to my 10 year old what being gay is and that being gay is great, etc., etc. Now, while I have ZERO issue with the concept of acceptance, I DO have an issue with someone who isn't even a parent, stepping over the line with MY child who isn't even mature enough to understand romantic relationships yet being told about subject matter beyond his comprehension.

I felt like she ambushed him and that she went behind my back. She gave me no voice in the preparation, presentation or after-effects of her "chat".

We sat at the table last night in the middle of the restaurant while her girlfriend tongue-kissed her in front of my 10 and 4 year olds with no tact or respect. Public affection is one thing, but R-rated make-out sessions really shouldn't happen in front of young kids regardless of orientation.

Of course I said nothing because I am so afraid that any objection or challenge to ANYTHING she says or does will cause ME to be shunned, I just let it go.

I think it's time to just bow out for a while. I can't handle it.

Thanks to those who read this without thinking I am a horrible person. Just venting my personal frustration.

Roll With The Punches

2010-10-25T15:06:00.006-05:00

Today is one of those days. Everything was going just great when it suddenly felt like the bottom fell out. I'm not talking about my water breaking! :)

We've faced such uphill challenges with hubs's work/legal/b.s. that everytime we think we've decided how we feel, we get spun.

So far the good side of things is that his license is safe. No revocation, no permanent suspension, etc.

The crappy side is STILL trying to push through the civil suit. Yes, there is a civil suit dragging its feet.

Let me pause right about now and tell you that of all the horrific bullshit a police wife can be put through, this one takes the cake. A civil suit makes you scared for your entire future, for all possible things you could ever hope to be, do or have. It keeps you awake at night, it gnaws at your guts and it exhausts you. Mentally, emotionally, physically.

With that said, we are meeting with our team of excellent, top-notch, best in the country lawyers again next week. I love them. They have been like a second family to us. I trust them completely. I have nothing but certainty they are spending sleepless nights working to save our future.

But I admit, it's hard to not start feeling sorry for myself. For us, really. It's like watching someone with cancer. It's painful and exhausting, and there is absolutely NOTHING you can do but stand there and watch and wait. Some days are good, some days completely suck.

Hubs said to me the most encouraging words I've heard him say. He isn't much for words, unless they are sarcastic and aimed at making someone laugh, but he said, "Through all of this I know with absolute certainty this is the job I am meant to do. I know that my sacrifice is and will benefit other officers."

It caught me completely off guard. It almost sounded like something scripted. But I could tell he absolutely meant it. I think as a means of protecting himself until that point, he always joked about quitting and becoming a banker. I didn't want to push too hard because I could honestly understand why all of this would push him completely out of police work forever; so I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear those words from him.

Right now I am just reminding myself to roll with the punches. It was really hard to believe that all of this crap is part of a bigger plan these past years. But getting the notice that this case has reformed how our state deals with officers and licensing, really did show me there is a higher power at work.

A FACT OF LIFE

2010-10-13T20:10:00.002-05:00

After Monday and Tuesday, even the calendar says

W T F

COPS

2010-10-09T12:08:00.004-05:00

Hubs and I were flipping through the channels and came across an episode of COPS where a suspect was hiding in the attic of a house. A swarm of officers and a K-9 were standing under the attic and the lead officer said, "I'm gonna count to 5 and then the K-9 is coming up after you... 1, 2, 3..."

All of the sudden the bad guy's feet and legs began descending from the attic.

Mr. Pants had been watching from the doorway (unbeknownst to us) and he busted out in a giggle and said, "Daddy that bad guy was playing HIDE and SEEK ha ha ha."

Hubs and I laughed for a good five minutes!!

It seems the hiding and the counting combined equals a game of hide and seek in a 4 year old's mind!

Uh Oh

2010-10-08T10:49:00.003-05:00

So, there is a crabby old fart who works in the jail of Hubs's department. He is basically some washed up old dude who came from a crappy muni (which he got fired from) and now thinks he is Grand Poobah.

Anyhow, a couple of officers went to a burglary call and caught the burglar in the act. They hooked him up and one officer brought him into the jail. Officer said, "Officer X is right behind me and will be in here in a couple of minutes with his detention sheet."

The crabby old fart waited until the first officer left and walked the burglar right out the front door!!!!

When the officer with the detention sheet walked in, she asked where her burglar was.

Crabby old fart told her, "I don't keep anyone in here without a detention sheet."

She reminded him there was a span of less then three minutes from the time the burglar arrived and the time she walked in with his detention sheet.

Well, needless to say she went up the ranks on this one. Oh and wouldn't you know, turns out the burglar was wanted by TWO other departments for felonies as well.

Chief's meeting happened that night by chance and guess what made for very interesting conversation?? The Chief was PISSED. I just found this story unbelievable.

In other news, I mentioned that yesterday I had my first baby doc appointment. I am going back in two weeks to get my first ultrasound. He said it would be best to do it during that week so that we can have more accurate data on the baby. I'll have a more accurate due date and all that good stuff.

I'll post more when there is actually something to tell :)

Hope you all have a good weekend!!

Thursday afternoon boredom post

2010-10-07T15:25:00.003-05:00

I love ShitMyDadSays. Here is today's post from Justin: "You don't have to be good to succeed. You just gotta be the least shitty option. Example: We're eating at The Olive Garden."

He is SOOO right. I found that a fantastic way to start my post this afternoon.. :)

Hubs has been rocking it at work, busted a whole bunch of people who he had in custody but gave fake names. It must be "fake name week" or something. Anyway, it's great listening to him tell me how he remembered "so and so" from an arrest years ago or he knows their cousin or whatever.

Even better, last night he had a girl who refused to give any name whatsoever. He played along for about 15 minutes and then he said, "Jamie, why don't you want to tell me your name?". She said, "Because I got....." and then her jaw dropped. She realized he just called her by her first name and could NOT figure out how he knew it! He is GOOOOD.

Anyway, I'm not fat. (yet) but I've already gained 4 pounds. What is it about this kid that craves broccoli? Just the WORD broccoli normally makes me gag. For Christ's sake I even chose broccoli over ICE CREAM this week. What the ....?

I craved broccoli and pickles with my first son. Looks like kid #3 is following suit. Anyway, I have my first OB appointment today. I can't remember if today is when they park the airplane in the hangar or what. Guess I'll find out in an hour.

Hope the little bean is there and that I get an u/s photo. I know, I know.. it looks like a tv station that's gone off air, but still. I want one.

Happy Heart Attack Day

2010-09-30T09:08:00.003-05:00

Eleven years ago today, my brother had a heart attack. I've posted about it before. He was 23 years old and the picture of health.

It changed my life and it changed my appreciation of family.

So, every year on this day I send him a note saying, "Happy heart attack day. I'm so glad you're still alive."

He sends me one back that says, "Thanks :) I'm enjoying being alive. Being alive is good."

Fantastic Reading

2010-09-27T10:33:00.004-05:00

A website I enjoy reading regularly is zenhabits.net. I found this guest post from Sean Platt at writerdad.com and thought I'd share. It was an excellent reminder and came at just the right time for me. Hope you enjoy.

http://zenhabits.net/7-secrets-to-raising-a-happy-child/

Three Little Words

2010-09-25T11:35:00.000-05:00

Big Fat Positive

Finally Good News

2010-09-13T15:21:00.003-05:00

My husband's case (see previous posts) has been a horrible, painful, long, exhausting, expensive ordeal spanning several years now. Finally... FINALLY a bit of good news. We just received word that his case is changing the way ALL police officers in our state are being managed when it comes to any sort of complaint or challenge to their license. We also learned that our state is NOT seeking revocation or termination of his license.

I cannot go into too much detail yet, but can tell you that my whole life just changed in one phone call. I am still a huge ball of emotion, but will post more on this when I can.

Nothing Really Interesting

2010-09-10T16:11:00.003-05:00

If you're like me, you had to stop and see what is not so interesting. Nice.

Today hubs was walking behind me and he asked, "Where'd your ass go?" (referring to the weight I've lost). To this I replied, "He's walking right behind me." That made him laugh hysterically. Score.

I'm glad it's fall. I hate the heat and where I live (in the buckle of the bible belt) it gets Africa hot in the summer. So, I don't mind the cold, damp, dreary rain. In fact, I love it. Reminds me of Ireland. The best place on earth - just my opinion.

Anyway, Hubs has been working so much I feel like I've hardly seen him. An idiot called in sick over Labor day so hubs had to work a 12.5 hour shift and then only got a 4 hour break before next shift. Then he had short change over, etc. The usual, hellish routine of a LEO I suppose. What does it mean when you start to get used to this crap?

In other not so interesting news, I found it funny the other night when my phone rang really late. Turned out to be my bro. He accidentally bumped his phone in the middle of an arrest and it called me. I kept saying "hello, hello" and then realized what must have happened. This is what I heard:

"Son, what's your mama's phone number"
"My momma ain't got no phone"
(sound of car door closing, followed by another car door opening)

"Son, what's your auntie's phone number"
"555-323-1234"
"Thank you"

(another car door opens)
"Well son, turns out your momma's got a phone sure enough. And guess what? I'VE GOT HER PHONE NUMBER."

It was hilarious. Couldn't have been more entertaining.. I heard him say to himself, "Ah these idiots."

I hung up and called him later to tell him what happened. We had a good time laughing about it all. Fun times.

I'm Alive

2010-09-07T10:01:00.004-05:00

I've just been really wrapped up in self-loathing. Better now. I took it as a sign of old age when the doc handed me a script for fertility drugs. Yikes. Anyway, perhaps I'll go on that adventure next month. Not really up for the "Clomid Crazies" right now. Insulin resistance sucks. Ok, enough about that.

Tale from the jail for you:
"I'm straight diabetic" -Prisoner
"Are you type I or type II?" -Jailer
"I'm just STRAIGHT diabetic" -Prisoner
"What do you mean by 'straight' diabetic?" -Jailer
"I need them INSULATION shots" -Prisoner

That was followed by all of the inmates arguing about which one of the Jackson brothers is the oldest, and whether or not they have Burger King in Saudi Arabia. This came up because one of inmates was claiming to be a muslim and said he spent time "over there" and that they also have Denny's - where you can order a grand slam WITH all the meat.

Good Lord. That's the future of America.

KPO I Love You

2010-08-10T15:22:00.007-05:00

My dear, sweet brother in law passed away this morning, the day before his 46th birthday. We were able to spend Friday through Monday with him. He waited until we left and then passed on.

He gave my niece a ring he had purchased in Turkey many years ago. He said to her, "When I bought this, it was long ago and at the time, I didn't know who I was buying it for. I just knew I was buying it for someone special. Turns out, the special person was YOU."

I am so proud of him for putting up a wonderful fight. He never lost his spirit, even making quips like, "Hey I have this really great weight loss plan, although I don't recommend it."

I am also proud of my husband. He did such a wonderful job comforting his big brother and saying all the right things. And he wasn't afraid to say all the things he wanted. He talked about many precious memories and he told him he loved him and will take care of his daughter and wife.

Always, always, tell the people you love just how much you care about them!

Tales from the jail again

2010-08-02T22:28:00.003-05:00

Hubs had a guy in the jail with a last name that's the same as a famous car dealer in the area.
Hubs asked, "Hey are you related to so and so?"
Guy said, "Nah man, that guy's white."
Hubs replied, "Well Angelina Jolie is white and her kids and black and vietnamese. Anything is possible."

The guy laughed so hard he couldn't breathe.

Hubs is a funny guy.

In other news, I feel like hurling. My BFF sent me an email telling me she made zuchinni orange ricotta muffins. I'm pretty sure I threw up in my mouth when I read that. She's a health nut. I hate waiting to see if there is a reason for me to feel so pukey.

I'm always afraid it's going to turn out to be psychological.

I'm eating like a hog and sleeping like a log lately. I suppose that means something? Counting down the days.. oy vey.

A Little Suspicious

2010-07-26T22:24:00.004-05:00

Had a pretty nice weekend of enjoying The Dude's last two baseball games of the season. It was fun (minus the 109 degree heat) and Mr. Pants loved playing in the dirt.

The only downside: thirty minutes before end of shift, the Hubs texted saying, "I just got a homicide. Not sure when I'll be out of here."... Seriously people, could you not commit your violence on a weekday?? We have places to be.

Turns out some guys tried to carjack two other guys. When the carjacker made it into the car, HE became the victim. The victims of the carjacking shot and killed the carjacker. It was all figured out a lot faster than usual in those parts.

In all we were able to salvage some time together and it was quite enjoyable.

So... yeah. I am not certain, but could there be an addition to our brood?

I ate two chicken sandwiches smothered in provolone cheese and not an hour later I found myself wolfing down a White Castle cheeseburger and half a chocolate shake. Dun da dun dun...

I'm a little suspicious. We've been trying, so we'll see what happens next week if you know what I mean. Er, should I say we'll see what doesn't happen next week!

Happy Birthday Mr. Pants

2010-07-20T16:06:00.006-05:00

Today Mr. Pants is officially "a 4 guy", as he calls it. Where in the HELL did time go?

It seems like yesterday I was bringing him home from the hospital in his little blue outfit with the yellow duck on it.

I hate acknowledging the passage of time, but, without it I wouldn't get to see and hear him do all of the amazing things he does. It's fantastic to hear him ask, "Is it my daddy??" whenever the car pulls in at home. It's hilarious to watch him shake his behind while singing all the wrong words. It's a total joy to let HIM read a book to ME - no he can't read yet. That's what makes it so much fun.

We spent time together making cupcakes to celebrate his birthday. I let him help with the frosting, which mostly meant holding the butter knife so he could lick all the frosting off, and then he giggled with delight when I let him pour the sprinkles (all over the kitchen table, chairs and floor - oh well).

I asked him what kind of party he wanted and suggested something like Thomas the Train or what's that guy's name? Diego? Anyway, Mr. Pants looked at me with a straight face and said, "No. I wanna have an ugly party."

What.the.heck? Not sure what an ugly party is, but in my mind he is a genius so I'm not going to argue with him.

I asked him if Grandma and Pop and Grandma and PaPa were invited to come to his party and he said, "No, I'm just too shy."

I told him he would probably get some gifts if they came and then he said, "Ok fine. I like to tear the paper. You can't do it though, mommy."

I wish he could stay little. Sigh

Happy Ending

2010-07-16T10:41:00.006-05:00

It was just PMS. Sorry guy readers. All is well now that I am not so hormonal.

Had a fabulous week with the family. We took the kids to the nature center earlier this week and took tons of photos and got to see three fawns hopping through the forest with their momma. The boys loved it.

Thankfully the forest is thick enough that we were shaded from the killer sun. It is AFRICA HOT here. We were up early (one of the rare occasions when I say that was a good thing) and we were able to get out and enjoy the day without rushing. Hubs was able to be there which made it even better.

Mr. Pants will be celebrating his 4th birthday on Tuesday. We are having a party on Sunday so Hubs can be there and I'm so excited my bro gets to come to. Sometimes the universe does cooperate. Last night Mr. Pants told me, "Momma - I love you. You're my girl...... (long pause) and I'm your boy." How sweet.

Hubs came home last night and told me he had something for me. He opened up this little scrap of paper ever so slightly as to taunt me. I kept asking him what it was. Turns out one of the local indoor ranges is offering a concealed carry class for Police wives only in August. They are giving a 50% discount and will certify you at the end of the day.

Perfect! I've been putting this off for a year and then out of left field comes the chance to take the class with all Police wives. I'm excited. I will let you know if I pass the class next month.. :)

Hubs spent plenty of time teasing me about how several years ago we went to the outdoor range and all I could hit with the Glock 27 were the rafters. Yikes. He said, "If we ever get robbed by someone really tall, you will blow them away."

I reminded him that a Glock 27 is a hand cannon for a 5'3" 110lb female. He told me he will work with me over the next few weeks to get me ready for the class.

Which also means I can now buy what I've been wanting to buy.. a Taurus 25 with pink grips.

Maybe it's just PMS

2010-07-07T15:52:00.008-05:00

So. I'm not proud, but I won't lie. I had what I can only refer to as a complete meltdown last night. In front of my kids. Wow. I am ashamed.

I've been really lonely and overwhelmed juggling all of the pressure of motherhood and going it alone.

Nothing out of the ordinary I suppose, it just pushed me a little harder yesterday than it has in a while.

The kids were picking at each other and when one was quiet (doing something he shouldn't be), the little one yells from the other room, "Momma, come wipe me." The Dude was talking a mile a minute asking me questions like, "What is barometric pressure" and "How many degrees Ferenheit is 29 degrees celsius". You and I both know these are not questions you can just spout an answer to while picking up the laundry pile with your toes when simultaneously leaning over to wipe the behind of your littlest one!

The house is a disaster, I fed the kids leftovers (gasp, for some reason I decided last night this makes me a bad mom), I forgot to put the sheets in the dryer so (again, horrible mom) I had to put the kids to bed with the wrong bedsheets.... I know, you're asking WHY IS THIS A CRISIS?

I don't know. I guess sometimes I just feel like a single parent. I don't know how my dad ever did it. By 9pm I was ready to squeeze a lemon in their eyes!

I just need to figure out some sort of routine for my sanity (and for the kids). I have all of these great intentions about dinner or activities, but when I go to do them I find that my tank is empty and my butt is dragging three miles behind me.

It's HARD managing everything without help, ALL THE TIME.

The Dude heard me crying (which I never do) and he sat down with me and talked about how he didn't realize how much I need help doing things around the house. He said, "I'm 10 years old mom. I should be helping you more. I promise to do better on chores and helping with my little brother."

I was really proud of him and completely shocked at his maturity. I gave him big hugs and apologized for crying in front of him and getting upset.

Maybe it's just PMS. Being a female sucks sometimes.

I miss the days when hubs would come through the door and crawl into bed next to me and wrap me up first thing. I miss the days when I could go meet him for dinner even if he was on duty or when he could stop home to grab a plate of dinner I actually made from scratch.

After the kids go to bed, I find myself on the couch, exhausted and emotional, missing hubs - wanting him to get home before I fall asleep so I can actually see his face.

Sixth Sense

2010-07-02T11:23:00.005-05:00

Five years ago today I had a premonition that my husband, my father-in-law and I were at my brother-in-law's funeral. He's a Navy SEAL who has done multiple tours in Afghanistan and Iraq so when this vision came to me, I told my husband about it and told him I was concerned.

I told him I saw men in uniforms with white gloves and a motorcycle escort for the hearse. I told him I knew it was his brother. I just knew it. I didn't know the how or why, but I knew it was him.

Three days later a police officer in our area was murdered while on duty. My husband, my father-in-law and I all attended the funeral. There were men in uniforms with white gloves and a motorcycle escort. My husband assured me this must have been what I was tuned into.

I insisted it wasn't. I continued to express my concern about his brother.

We've just learned that the brother-in-law from my premonition has two types of terminal cancer and a very short time left to live (maybe 6 months).

Coincidence?

One Amazing Performance

2010-06-30T11:29:00.002-05:00

So here is one more video of a concert he put on last night.. this is just one of his performances from the show. This is a dance he learned just this summer from James Munsey of Bru Boru in Cashel, Co. Tipperary, Ireland.

The Dude and his Dance

2010-06-28T20:47:00.003-05:00

He once hated that I make him do this, but now at his ripe age (sigh) he's realizing the ladies love it.

Ireland

2010-06-28T20:38:00.002-05:00

I spent this past weekend in Chicago with my kids. My eldest is very active in traditional Irish music and dance and competed in the Fleadh.

The Fleadh is where kids compete for a spot in the All-Ireland finals in Cavan, Ireland. Whoever wins the All-Ireland final is considered the best in the world.

Here is video of my kid leading his Ceili band (he's on drums).. oh, and they won first place!

Ireland in August. Woot woot.

It wasn't candy

2010-06-17T10:45:00.006-05:00

Mr. Pants has been in rare form lately. I suppose it's all just par for the course, being 3 and all.. but oh.my.god. Handful is an understatement.

I was in the grocery store and he was acting really crazy and grabbing random stuff off the shelf and tossing it wildly into the cart and then zipping up and down the aisle nearly knocking over an elderly lady. So I corralled him in the cart seat. That turned out to the be the worst possible idea. Why? I shall tell you.

I did not realize the risk of having my purse sitting in the seat right next to him. I did this so I could have access to my coupons. Yeah, great idea. As I looked to my right at the shelf and glanced between it and the coupon wad in my hand, I failed to realize that Mr. Sir (name when in trouble) was curiously going through my purse.

After a few minutes I started to notice a couple of random women looking at me strangely. Hm, what's that all about? Oh, it was then I looked down and saw my kid with one end of an object in between his little teeth, pulling and pulling to try and get it open.

He was saying, "I want this candy" (repeat 57 times, crescendo louder and louder) and as I looked more closely, I realized what this "candy" was..... it was an unopened TAMPON.

I let out a gasp, pulled relentlessly on one end in an attempt to get it away from him whilst he continued to pull on the other end.

Then in a flash, the wrapper gave way and the tampon went flying through the air like some football headed for a Heisman candidate. It landed dead smack in the middle of the aisle where God and everyone could plainly see what it was (not that the women hadn't figured it out already)...

I froze. I wanted to die of embarrassment right there. Mr. Pants turned around in the cart and looked at it a little sideways and conceded that that, in fact, was NOT candy.

What You're Made Of

2010-06-09T13:49:00.020-05:00

Today... ahem,... Today...

Today is one of those days.

I think I have become well acquainted with the ugly side of being a police wife. I've babbled on about kids and work and all the daily grind. But you haven't heard me go on a tirade about the real struggles of my life.

While I don't believe in airing dirty laundry in any public forum, I'm going to dump like hell on my blog today.

I've seen my husband survive false accusations, a forced resignation, a criminal trial and all the starting over that comes with it.

I used to have these grand ideas about what it's like being a police officer. Now that I'm married to it, I hate it some days. I've seen how quickly one person can ruin someones career, their life, the lives of their families..

and without consequence.

I have many struggles related to this topic, however I have a few which are controlling me right now and it's driving me mad.

During the non-incident that somebody decided to make into an incident, I was there and so were our kids. Our eldest has struggled with the following questions:

"But Mom, we told the truth and the other guy is lying. Why aren't the police helping us? Why are they saying Daddy did something wrong? I was there and that guy is lying. I thought Police are supposed to help you and you are supposed to trust them?".

I have tried repeatedly to encourage our son to always tell the truth and to always trust the police. Police officers will help you when you are in trouble and you can always tell them things when you need someone to trust, even if it's something you can't tell your parents or another grown up.

But the damage is done. It's evolving from our son trusting and respecting the police to him not liking them at all. He definitely doesn't trust them. He has said to me, "If you can't trust the police, who can you trust?".

I'm so resentful, not sure toward who, but I feel like a part of my ability to parent has been taken away by all this. I can't guide my son with words or even my own actions because his view of the police has now been tainted. I'm really trying and will continue to do so, but it's heartbreaking. This situation has taken away my ability to make my son feel protected and to help him have confidence in the police.

We've survived what could have been financial disaster, we've survived loss of insurance, pension and livelihood. We've survived a complete and total invasion of privacy, even having our address printed in local media. And worse than any of these is the damage to our pride.

These are the times when you find out what you're made of.

Now we are waiting to find out if hubs' license to be an officer is going to be subject to disciplinary action.

I have resigned myself to the fact that if he does lose his license, I will accept it. I have decided to tell myself it's the good Lord's way of keeping him out of harm's way.

God knows he has lived a life of public service. Those whose lives have been touched by him will never forget, and neither will he.

I will close today's post with a letter from one of those folks.

Dear XXXXXX,

I am writing you today because you hold the future of a young man in your hands. I was not there when the incident occurred between X and (hubs), so it is hard for me to render a view of what transpired. I certainly am in no position to contradict the testimony or the work of the prosecution for this case. What I can attest to is the character and demeanor of (hubs).

You see, I was there the day my adopted daughter attempted suicide. She was a minority child and a victim of years of physical, sexual and psychological abuse before my wife and I adopted her. There were many problems, but on that day, she attempted to break out a second story window and jump out of it onto a solid concrete slab. I was shattered and upset when I called XXXX police agency. The officer who arrived first on the scene was (hubs). I was trying to restrain this highly emotional teenager desparately trying to harm herself and me. The (hubs) I know is the one who calmly took control of the situation, quieted the young girl, and helped me with the most caring compassion and kindness I had ever experienced in my life. He did not know it at first, but then he realized who I was.

I have known (hubs) for over twenty years. After he grew up and became a policeman I rarely saw him, until the day he came to help my daughter and me. All his young years he was a quiet fellow with a great sense of humor and willingness to help others. He became a proud member of the police department, a husband and a father. I always knew him to be respectful and honest.

I understand the stresses of everyday life as we all do. I also realize mistakes are made, but conflict is not always bad. At times, we can learn from our indiscretions and grow from them. I know (hubs) will do the same. Whatever happened that day was not the norm for this young man. on the contrary, I have seen and want you to know, he is a good young man and very deserving of a chance to move on with his life, his children and his community. To take (hubs) from his family would be a grave injustice. I would implore you to consider not only my brief account of (hubs') compassion, but the years of service he gave to the community - the unsung and unreported deeds of kindness and care for others.

Sincerely,

MR. X

I am such a ...

2010-05-29T06:08:00.003-05:00

dork. It's super early where I live and I'm up becuase I can't sleep. Wish I could... I had three wisdom teeth surgically extracted mid-day. One would think I'm awake because I'm writhing in pain. Nope. I think I can't sleep because of the twilight sedation they gave me. I "slept" so hard it took away my need for sleep during sleeping hours tonight. Bleh.

I put off having this done for a couple of years because I've been having some other mysterious health stuff. I finally "womaned up" (is that a term?) and I got it over with. Awesome surgeon, real cool.. and turns out my nurse is also married to a LEO. Bonus! She was extra nice to me.

So, I get there, they do a panorex, they tell me I have three horrible wisdom teeth that are "sidewinders" and that behind one of them I have a cyst which luckily was only fluid and not very big. They did all the scaring the hell out of me by telling me my two lowers were literally sitting right on the nerve and the bone, etc. etc.

Doc has me sign my life away and leans my chair back. He puts the nitrous over my nose and swabs my arm. We had moments before discussed how we were going to avoid using fentanyl on me as it gets into my marrow space in certain uses and it causes my blood pressure to crash. Where was I? Oh swabbing the arm.. IV needle goes in. I hear him ask for the Versed from the nurse. Then I hear him ask for the fentanyl. To his shock and amazement, I opened my eyes about half way and said, "No fentanyl, remember what you said?". Luckily the nurse hadn't handed it over and they ended up giving me something else. I was still not out of it at this point and even mentioned perhaps my vein rolled on him or something. He took a look and sure enough, there was a problem with the line and he had to fidget with it to get the meds in. He looked a little shocked but I was totally calm and relaxed (thank GOD) and then he plunged the propofol and I smiled and said, "Ok now I feel that". Off to sleep I went while he cut away.

Then the most hilarious thing happened. I woke up in this really narrow room on a little cot with a small, almost inappropriately tiny blanket over me. Just so happens when I came to, the nurse had literally just stepped out and I had NO CLUE where the hell I was. I started crying (not hysterics or anything) but it was so funny. I thought I was in JAIL. HA HA HA.

The hubs and my mom came in with the nurse (turns out she was going to get them when I came to). Although I don't remember crying at all, I specifically remember thinking I was in a jail cell. Yikes!

The doc had given me a prescription for Vicodin and told me how with it being a holiday weekend he wanted me to have the "strong stuff" because I'd likely be in a lot of pain since I'm OLDER than most of his wisdom teeth patients. I told him the last pain pill I took was in 1996. He was surprised. After my neck surgery in December I only took straight liquid Tylenol. I'm really thankful for whatever freakish powers I possess that let me have a grip on painful procedures.

I'm rambling I know.. but I'm bored to tears. I took one Vicodin on the way home yesterday and my mom and the hubs were expecting me to be all goofy. I don't know if I lack the enzyme to convert it morphine or what, but it has zero effect on me....

UNTIL this morning. I was laying on the couch about 4am and I started itching like some street corner junkie. Yuck. So, needless to say I'm throwing this crap out and sticking to my Tylenol alternated with Ibuprofen.

Wish me luck that between the ice packs for the rest of today and the OTC meds I'll push through without any problems!

Thanks all for letting me ramble. Hubs is at work and I'm all alone (but don't tell the oral surgeon, ok?!)

Brochacho

2010-05-25T14:22:00.011-05:00

Last night I had a fantastic time watching my brother and some other family members from one district play a softball game against another district in the metropolitan area where they work. My bro is one of those guys who had the potential to play professional baseball but just didn't want to. Anyway, it was a great time, but had a scary few minutes. Bro was running to third base and knew he was going to mow over the third baseman, so he jumped to go over him. As bro jumped, the guy started to stand up which then launched my bro about five feet in the air. He promptly landed on his right side and I watched in horror as the side of his head literally bounced off the dirt. He lay there writhing for a minute and all the police there started to gather around him.

I am a very overprotective LITTLE sister. It took everything in me to NOT run out to the field and lift him up like Shera and take him back to the dugout. It was rough watching, but then all the guys scooped him up and put him back on his feet. My bro, the nice guy he is, just laughed and waved to everyone and said he was fine, only his pride was hurt.

It made me think back to September 30, 1999. He was then 23 years old. One night at 3am my phone rang. And yes, this is back in the day before I had a cell phone or caller id. This is back when, if the phone rang that time of night, you knew something was wrong.

Bro called and sounded concerned because he woke up to some really bad chest pain. I asked him for the details (I was in nursing school at the time) and decided I should come pick him up and take him to get checked out. I drove like an idiot to get to him, scooped him up curbside and drove 90+ to the hospital while trying to watch him but not crash at the same time.

I squealed up the ER doors, practically carried him over my shoulder into the ER and they hooked him up and did an EKG and some labs immediately. He was awake and talking to me, actually laughing about how the ER Doc had the same last name as one of the Simspons characters.. (go figure).

The Doc came in a minute or two later and as we were giggling about how this would probably turn out to be bad gas, the Doc said very abruptly, "You're having a heart attack right NOW".

The giggling stopped. NO.FREAKING.WAY. He was 23 years old and the poster child for healthy living. Worked out 5 days a week, ate healthy, etc.

Doc said the things he had going against him were being male and smoking cigarettes. Anyway, long story short, I vaguely remember walking next to him as they wheeled him up to the coronary care unit and the next day they did a cardiac cath on him. I was so terrified for him.

Turned out there was about 5-6% damage to his heart and the Doc said if he quit smoking and maintained a healthy lifestyle that it would probably never effect him. I breathed the hugest sigh of relief. I couldn't leave his side until he was released a week or so later.

That was eleven years ago. Even though he is a big tough Policeman now, I still can't help but worry like crazy about him whenever something happens. When he made it back to the dugout I gave him two ibuprofen, a bottle of water and a towel to wipe off the dirt with.

I am SO thankful he was ok. I watched him like a hawk for the rest of the game and then called him later on to make sure he was ok.

He's my Brochacho. I love him. (sigh)

Eighteen Years

2010-05-19T10:46:00.030-05:00

"It is with deep grief that I learn of the death of your kind and brave Father; and, especially, that it is affecting your young heart beyond what is common in such cases. In this sad world of ours, sorrow comes to all; and, to the young, it comes with bitterest agony, because it takes them unawares. The older have learned to ever expect it. I am anxious to afford some alleviation of your present distress. Perfect relief is not possible, except with time. You can not now realize that you will ever feel better. Is not this so? And yet it is a mistake. You are sure to be happy again. To know this, which is certainly true, will make you some less miserable now. I have had experience enough to know what I say; and you need only to believe it, to feel better at once. The memory of your dear Father, instead of an agony, will yet be a sad sweet feeling in your heart, of a purer and holier sort than you have known before." --A. Lincoln in his letter to Fanny McCullough December 23, 1862

All of the words above hold great meaning for me, but none more so than the ones in bold letters. My father died eighteen years ago today, on his 44th birthday. He was the most amazing single father a girl could ever wish for. Meek and mild, wicked smart and with the best sense of humor, he spent his days teaching us how to lead a purposeful life.

It's hard to get through this day without thinking of how hard he struggled through the years to make ends meet, or how he worked so much I often wondered if he really got to enjoy life - but I understand now as a parent, myself, that everything we really are and everything that really matters can be seen by looking into the souls of our children.

I know that while for years and years I held onto resentment and anguish and horribly vivid memories of watching him die a long, slow, painful death from brain cancer - I am now thankful that I can say we spent the toughest times, together.

I was only 14 when he died and I used to cry my eyes out thinking of the million things he would miss. Graduation, my wedding, the birth of my kids.. It was almost too much to bear.

But when I read the last line of the letter above, "The memory of your dear Father, instead of an agony, will yet be a sad sweet feeling in your heart, of a purer and holier sort than you have known before.", I find solace.

I know that a part of him will always be a part of me. I see him in myself, I see him in my children. His memory is all around me.

I still miss him, but I am content at knowing that I had the chance to stand by him during his darkest hours, that I got to tell him that I loved him, and that in our final conversation he suddenly became very lucid and aware and looked straight into my eyes and with a warm smile said, "Babe, you know I love you and am proud of you, don't you?".

That, is what keeps the sad sweet feeling in my heart.

Kiss My...

2010-04-24T19:00:00.003-05:00

My wonderful, thoughtful bro decided to buy me tickets to the Steve Martin bluegrass tour for my birthday. When we were kids, one of our favorite things was to sneak a listen to some of Steve Martin's terribly inappropriate humor from the other room while our dad sat unsuspecting.

I was so surprised and delighted when I opened my birthday card and saw the tickets. I love comedy and I love bluegrass music, so it was PERFECT!

Hubs was finally off (worked 13 out of the last 15 days) so we were actually able to go together! It was pouring down rain and we had to take the public train to get downtown. My bro happens to work the district where the concert was being held, so he told us he'd be waiting in his patrol car when we hopped off the train and he'd take us the few blocks over to the concert venue.

Sure enough, we got off at our stop and bro was there waiting like the gentleman he is. I jumped in the front seat and hubs jumped in the back. We got to the venue with a huge line of people out front waiting to get in.

Hubs is always one to put on a show. I got out and then had to let him out because this was, after all, a cage car. I let hubs out and as people watched curiously, the hubs leaned into the back door and said in a very loud, stern voice, "NOW KISS MY ASS", and slammed the door. Of course my bro was laughing so hard he could not drive off.

The security guards sort of reached for their pepper spray but as the hubs turned around laughing, they just sort of looked at him confused. Hubs said, "That's my brother in law".

The guards breathed a huge sigh of relief and started chuckling. One of them said, "Oh thank GOD".

Hubs makes me have fun wherever we go.

The music was great, the comedy made it even better.. and just having a night out with hubs was so much fun. We walked around downtown holding hands afterward and when we came to a huge rain puddle, he threw me over his shoulder and carried me over it. All the people on the street were saying, "Awwwww".

He made me laugh and he made me very proud. I love those days.

Happy Happy Birthday

2010-04-15T12:07:00.003-05:00

So Tuesday was my birthday. The hubs worked all afternoon and night. Welcome to the life of a police wife. (sigh)

He took me to lunch which was great! He woke me up when he came home, as I had fallen asleep on the couch hoping to catch a glimpse of him at some point.

We decided yesterday we would go this fancy restaurant to celebrate. We got into the restaurant and the snooty hostess acknowledged we had a reservation and in an offput tone said, "It's not ready yet".

We waited about twenty minutes and finally looked around, looked at each other and I said, "Let's go get a burger". We both busted out laughing and merrily walked out and went to the burger joint.

Sure we were way too dressed up for burgers, but it was fun! And it beat the heck out of some snooty restaurant that was way overpriced anyway.

I'm just glad I got a few hours alone with hubs. I had a great time listening to his latest work stories and laughing my butt off. I hadn't realized how little we've actually talked to each other recently.

We do the hellos and goodbyes and talk about if the kids' lunches are made, etc. but we haven't talked about real grown up stuff. I miss him.

Another Officer Badly Injured

2010-04-09T09:54:00.004-05:00

I am so sick and tired of these dirtbags. Last night another officer was shot three times in the neck and shoulder and is now paralyzed from the waist down due to one of the bullets hitting his spine. He is only 30 years old.

The only "good" news out of this is his partner returned fire on the bad guy and last I heard the bad guy has a "gaping hole" in his head. Technically still alive. We'll see what happens.

All this from a domestic. Lovely.

I hate the way people make me feel some days. I hate that my heart is filled with nothing but cynicism. I hate that this is the world my kids are growing up in. And mostly, I hate that the hubs (and all of yours) walk out that door every day to face situations like these. It sucks.

It's just a down kinda day.

Vocabulary Lesson

2010-04-03T17:45:00.006-05:00

It's been a busy week. Monday evening the hubs, some friends/co-workers and my mom all went to Dave's visitation. My brother was part of the honor guard and did "casket watch". We made our way up to the casket and paid our respects. My mom turned to Dave's mom and said, "I don't know you and I didn't get to know Dave, but for the grace of God I could be sitting in your chair. My son is standing at your son's feet."

Dave's mom stood up and gave my mom a huge hug and told my mom she is proud of both their sons. How awesome his family is.

I was so proud of my bro standing up there at attention with the white gloves and full dress uniform. It was very humbling to see him standing watch like that.

So afterward, we all went out and spent time together. My bro says, "I gotta tell you this new word I learned on a call the other night".

He starts telling me how he got a call for a disturbance and on the way to the address, he kept telling his partner that the address seemed all too familiar. They shrugged it off and approached the front door.

"The front door opened and there is this itty bitty old lady who tells us "He's already gone, officer.""

"From behind the old lady comes a slightly younger lady with the "wonkiest wall-eyes I've ever seen. It was at that moment I remembered dealing with these folks before."

The younger of the two ladies starts going on a tirade saying "I'm a diabeteee and I had brain surgery in 1965. If my brother comes back here again I'm gonna kill him..".

So, after listening to this for several minutes, my bro decided to go a couple doors down and talk to the man regarding this disturbance and tells the ladies not to let the man in the house anymore since he doesn't live there.

Bro knocks on the door and the man answers. The man has a huge welted area on his forehead. Bro looks at him and asks, "Jesus, man. How'd that happen."

Guy responds by saying, "We got to arguin and she hit me with a smoov."

"A 'smoov'?", Bro asks, intrigued.

"Yeah, you know.. that thing you smoov your clothes with."

"Oh, you mean an iron?", Bro asks.

"Yeah, that thing."

Gotta love it.

RIP Dave

2010-03-25T13:47:00.019-05:00

So the way I'll remember Dave is this:

One night a couple of months back, my bro and I were going to a shindig at a bar in the district where he typically works secondary. There was a guy in plainclothes near the corner, wearing a ski mask. I remember these piercing blue eyes looking at us.

As we got about ten feet away, my bro looked closely and asked, "Haynes??".

Dave lifted up his ski mask and with a huge grin asked, "How'd you know it was me?". We all busted out laughing together. And that's how I'll remember him. Smiling from ear to ear.

Prior to becoming an officer Dave served as a Marine in Iraq. The text below is something I thought was pretty profound. I'm unsure of the author, but wanted to share it as it sent chills down my spine and brought tears to my eyes. Please feel free to copy it and pass it on.

WALKING THE POINT

There are some things you just can’t do without suffering casualties… very literally and profoundly, and our job is one of them. You can’t race cars without crashes. You can’t dig mines without cave-ins, and you sure as hell can’t send cops out into the streets of a violent society without violent deaths.

Our fallen brothers and sisters knew that and did it anyway… as we all do or have done.

Their friends will tell you they did the job because they loved it, and any of us who can’t say that should envy them for it. At least they died as rare and precious people, doing what they loved to do, and doing it for the noblest of reasons. That is something we can never explain outside our profession.

You see you can’t be a good cop simply because you couldn’t find another job. You can only be a good cop because you want it. And there is an answer to why they died, something I learned a half world away many years ago as a young Marine, preparing to face an enemy in combat for the first time. It was then that my Sergeant explained that, like it or not, there are only three rules in war:

RULE NUMBER ONE IS "YOUNG MEN DIE"

RULE NUMBER TWO IS "YOU CAN'T CHANGE RULE NUMBER ONE"

RULE NUMBER THREE IS "SOMEBODY HAS TO WALK THE POINT"

You see when soldiers advance, knowing the enemy is near, there is always one man way out in front of everyone else. His duty is to look and listen and sense that first contact, to spot the enemy, pinpoint the ambush, fire that first shot, and as a consequence, take those first shots.

It offends the logical mind and denies the instinct for survival. It ages and saddens and wizens, and frequently kills those who take their turn “WALKING THE POINT." But it must be done, or there will be no protection for the rest, just more bloodshed and more grief…for the "POINT MAN" is there to save lives, even if he gives his own in the process.

Society might not be a company of soldiers, but it certainly has and needs someone walking the point. Every time you go out the station door. Every time you answer a radio call, every time you stop to check out something suspicious, you are "WALKING THE POINT"...And you can’t change rule number one.

If I could say something directly to the people of our society, it would be this. I know some of you will remember our fallen brothers and sisters, but that’s not good enough. I want you to honor them for what they did for you... that which they needn’t have done.

I’m not just talking about that day or night that a "ROUTINE" call or traffic stop went horribly bad. I mean what they did for you day after day, in darkness and light, rain or shine, on holidays and on their loved one’s birthdays. Without even expecting a "THANK YOU" in return.

They volunteered to "WALK THE POINT."

Officer Down

2010-03-24T12:57:00.002-05:00

I am saddened by the news of my brother's co-worker. He was going code this morning with lights & sirens in pursuit of a robbery suspect and was t-boned first in the driver's side and then again on the passenger side.

He was dead on arrival at the hospital.

He just learned last week his wife is expecting their first child.

He was only in his twenties.

Please pray for his wife, his unborn child and all the rest of his family, including his family in blue.

Thanks.

I.Hate.Afternoon.Watch.

2010-03-18T21:27:00.009-05:00

Can I just tell you how much I hate afternoon watch? It's been a looonng time since the hubs has worked any (I know, clearly I've been spoiled).

Here is what I've learned so far today, 7 hours into his shift:

Three year olds can re-program a Wii. Not break it, just do something funky to it that I can't figure out.

Chewing gum does indeed stick to a soaking wet toddler - IN THE BATHTUB (including little butt cheeks).

As I got Mr. Pants out of the tub (after removing the chewing gum from various orifices), he looked at me and asked, "Mommy are you upset?" To which I replied, "No, I just don't like it when you get into the chewing gum without permission." He quickly said, "I'm sorry." What a sweet little devil.

I don't know what it is with these two lately but as soon as Daddy leaves for work in the afternoon I find myself asking, "Who are these kids?"

When they are finally in bed, asleep after lots of wrangling and threats of discipline, I settle onto the couch watching tv and waiting for hubs.. only to fall asleep ten minutes before he walks through the door.

Poop.

Moment of clarity

2010-03-11T10:54:00.007-06:00

I recently realized that Mr. Pants is going to start Kindergarten next year. Exciting? Yes. Depressing? Yes.

I'm at a crossroad right now. Seriously considering quitting my job. I make a ridiculous salary (a good ridiculous) but I just miss my kids so much.

The Dude is in fourth grade so I've had time to adjust to the fact that he is half way to graduation. But Mr. Pants? I'm just not ready for him to be at that age where he spends the majority of his day in a schoolroom. I suppose he already is if you consider daycare, but I really think I want to quit work and spend this next year with him and all summer with both kids.

I can always go back to work next year after he starts Kindergarten... unless I decide to have another baby.

Maybe I'm a little too aware of the passage of time. I lost my dad when I was 14 and for some reason I've always held on to the fact that life is really short. Kind of a morbid way to look at it, but hey, now I'm married to a LEO.. which makes things all the more morbid.

When it comes to parenting, I know I will have regrets. I know I can't do everything perfectly. I want to feel fulfilled and I'm just not feeling that right now. I feel out of place. I don't belong in Corporate America.

We are very smart about living on one income even though we have two. We've got money in the bank and no debt except our mortgage. The hubs is all about me going back to a full-time domestic queen.

Peeps- weigh in for me, would ya? Is this a bad idea? What would you do?

Looking forward to your comments. And I'm not a sissy, so give it to me straight.

Ahh.. Kids and Cops

2010-03-10T09:37:00.015-06:00

So this one is courtesy of my bro. He's a copper in a large metropolitan area and he was kind enough to call me over the weekend and share this funny story with me.

Friday night at a local family fun attraction, two juveniles were "hanging out" (a.k.a. acting like a couple of young punks).

The two officers working secondary at this establishment noticed the smell of weed. They followed the smell, which led them to the juveniles. Yep. Two fifteen year olds smoking weed in a family fun place.

The officers called for patrol. In the meantime, they phoned the families of the juveniles and explained what they were caught doing. They also explained that because they are juveniles they would be brought home to their families instead of hauled in. It was a busy weekend night and nothing would really come of it anyway.

My bro arrived and gathered up the two juveniles and put them into his car. The one kid was a real punk and wanted to smart off. My bro said, "Pal, you can mouth off all you want. Just wait til you get home."

The other kid just sat silently. As my bro put it: "I think he sensed the ass-whoopin he had coming".

Bro arrived at the first house and brought the smart mouth kid to the door who for some odd reason had finally shut up. Big Mama who stood well over six feet tall answered the door and said, "Evenin officer." And without flinching she rared back and slapped the kid pimp style with a wicked backhand, so fast and hard that my bro had to jump backwards into the bushes to avoid being hit, too!

Big Mama looked up, smiled and said, "Thank you officer."... Bro said he could hear her verbally ripping the kid up one side and down the other as he walked back to his car.

He got in and looked back at the kid sitting silently with his head held low in the backseat. Bro said, "Son, you better hope you're Grandma ain't half as pissed as that lady was."

The kid said solemnly, without looking up, "Yes sir".

He drove the remaining juvenile home to Grandma who also answered the door with a swift kick to the kid's butt. She grabbed the kid by the ear and made him apologize to my Bro for causing trouble. Bro said Grandma promised to "stomp the sh*t" out of her grandson and thanked him for all his trouble.

She then dragged the kid into the house by his ear and right about then is when his whoopin began.

Ahh.. kids.

He's So Mushy

2010-03-09T09:54:00.004-06:00

I woke up to this text message this morning:

"I love you Bunny and am thankful for all you've done and still do for me and for our family."

He's such a sweet guy. He makes me so happy. ...It's the little things.

Nasty Tales

2010-02-23T15:17:00.005-06:00

So the hubs has been doing some work helping out in the jail at his department. The last few days that he's done this, he drives straight home and calls me sounding all violated or something.

Now, I couldn't figure out why when I get home from work all of the sudden he has started putting his unis into plastic bags, IN THE HAMPER?? I mean, seriously, I'm lucky if they make it within ten feet of the hamper-on the floor-most days. Hm.

So, I asked him what the deal is and this is what he told me:

"Yesterday while I was doing some paperwork, this chic who is no short timer decided that she wanted a shower. Well, they only get a shower every three days. So you know what she did? She pooped in her pants, and wallowed around in it, hoping she'd get a shower. The Sgt. in the jail walked over, handed her a towel and said, 'It ain't Thursday yet'. Just witnessing that made me feel completely disgusting. Just knowing I breathed the same stale air as the woman who did such a thing makes me feel gross."

"Today, a lady who has been in for several days got bonded out. The Sgt. asked me to grab her clothes so she could change out of her jumpsuit and go home.. or wherever she's going to go. So I put on rubber gloves THANK GOD because when I reached into the bag and pulled out her clothing, it was completely covered in menstrual blood.... from three days ago."

It didn't really make him feel better when I reminded him these are the same disgusting people he frisks, cuffs and hauls around in a patrol car every day in his personal space. Man, it makes me shudder!!

My poor Sweetie. YUCK. I'm sorry he has to go through being around such disgusting people, but boy I'm really glad his clothes are bagged and in the laundry hamper!! It's like magic. :)

A Third Time?

2010-02-20T11:20:00.003-06:00

No joke. Our car got broken into for the THIRD time. In our driveway. While we were sitting on the couch.

GGGGRRRRRR!!

We don't leave things of value in our car. The dirtbag who does this simply roots through and ransacks the car, takes all the pocket change from the ashtray and trashes the car.. oh and leaves the doors slightly open.

Since we just got back from vacation, we didn't realize that The Dude had left his Nintendo DS under Mr. Pants' carseat. It was really well hidden, but the dirtbag managed to find it and steal it anyway.

So, the hubs is furious. He says, "NOBODY steals from my kids!" Of course when we called this morning to report it, the guys showed up in droves. All the neighbors were driving by slowly, gawking as the ID officer dusted the prints and took photos of the footprints in the front yard, through the snow, leading right up to the dang driver's door!

We are all pretty certain who the culprit is. Oh and by the by he has a Felony Wanted right now so as soon as he is spotted he is getting taken in anyway. Yay. Plus the guys in our beat are switching to midnights tomorrow night and are going to have the next four weeks to sit outside all night and catch the dirtbag.

Seriously, I am so frustrated. It would be a little more understandable if there was actually something interesting to steal from us. But there isn't!

I can't wait til the little turd gets busted. Stay tuned.

Alright, I'm reaching... so what

2010-02-12T13:28:00.029-06:00

Trying to be positive today.

I'm having a great hair day. My hair is very naturally curly so this is a rarity indeed.

My butt looks fantastic in these new jeans. (ok I said I was reaching.. )

Vitamins are important. Went to the baby doctor yesterday because we're thinking about having another and, well, it was time to go anyway. My doc is a really cute, funny, younger guy and my husband is always teasing me about him (even though I only see him once a year). He always makes reference to the movie The Waitress.. ok so anyway. The hubs had to tell me his strong opposition to the OB/GYN industry's use of the "shoe horn" as he calls it.

"Who ever thought that was appropriate to do to a woman?" he asked. He makes a valid point, doesn't he? LOL

Then he asks me the terribly inappropriate question of whether or not the doc "felt my boobs". What a loaded question, huh? Of COURSE the doc did this.. he had to. It's part of the checkup. But since this admission the hubs has not stopped teasing me. This will go on for days about letting another man touch "the girls".

Then he asks, "Do you think he liked it?" He's always giggling when he asks me. I tell him no, but his laughing makes me laugh so then my laughing just gives him cause to keep teasing. Ah! What a goofball.

Vitamins, oh yeah.. so as I mentioned in previous posts I spent a couple of years not being able to eat properly due to swallowing issues. Now that the swallowing issue is resolved, I'm paying a heavy price. I have been feeling pretty crappy lately physically. Like someone walked over to the wall and just unplugged me. Like a lump of cold spaghetti. Ok is that descriptive enough?

So the doc reviewed my lab work and he told me that over the last year or two I was slowly starving to death. I chuckled. He didn't. He told me that he was quite serious. I have untraceable amounts of vitamin D and vitamin B12 in my body. My iron stores are empty. He told me that I needed to immediately start on vitamin therapy and iron supplementation. Doctor J advised I not even think of getting pregnant again for about 6 months so that my stores are safely built back up first. He said my blood volume would increase by 30% when pregnant and that in order to make that increase in blood, my body will call on my nonexistent iron stores to do so. It's just plain not safe right now.

I'm shocked. I had lost thirty pounds last year but have gained about fifteen of it back. I'm 5'3" and weigh 112 now. When I told him I don't think I'm all that bad, he said, "That's not bad for a 17 year old.. that IS bad for someone your age". Jeez ok already. Good way to make me feel ancient!

I'm really glad though that it's just a matter of vitamins and iron. I realize that there are so many people out there suffering conditions that are not fixable. Yesterday was a real eye opener and good encouragement for me to take much better care of myself.

I'm also happy that the fam is going on vacation next week. We are taking the kids to a resort (not the kind with sunsets on the beach).. but a kid-friendly kind somewhere in the US. The hubs is a total prankster so he told our 9 year old that we are taking him out of school to send him to math camp. (How horrible is that?!) The resort we're going to has an indoor water park and it has tons of special stuff for little Mr. Pants, too. The Dude is going to FREAK when he sees this place. I'm sure he'll be thrilled when he finds out it's not math camp.

Work has been dead for the last three days. Can you believe it? They are upgrading our system platform and they are running way past deadline to get the new one up and running (shhhhocker). So in the meantime, I'm screwing around doing as little as possible. I needed some veg time!

I'll be on blog hiatus during vacation. Have a great weekend and week everyone!

Alyssa

2010-02-09T12:15:00.012-06:00

The victim was my beautiful cousin.

http://www.wftv.com/news/22507187/detail.html

From the Orlando Sentinel:

By Henry Pierson Curtis and Willoughby Mariano, Orlando Sentinel
10:23 PM EST, February 9, 2010

A week before she died, Alyssa Blanton tried to get an order of protection against a 61-year-old man she accused of bombarding her with profane e-mails, sitting outside her home and following her to her job in Orlando.

The 23-year-old newlywed from Cocoa was gunned down Monday at a business park near the University of Central Florida — a place she hoped a Brevard County judge would make off-limits to the man she said had been tormenting her for two years.

Blanton's mother confirmed Tuesday that her daughter was the woman shot outside the AT&T Wireless Call Center where she worked. Orange County sheriff's investigators later confirmed that Blanton's killer was Roger Troy of Cocoa Beach, the same man she said had showed up at her home, followed her to the beach and confronted her outside her workplace.

The killer fatally shot himself after shooting the woman at least twice.According to Blanton, her stalker's obsession began in 2008, when she was waiting tables at Hooters Restaurant on Merritt Island. In a 72-page petition for an order of protection that she presented at an emergency hearing Feb. 1, she said he owned several guns.

The man "started harassing e-mails when I stopped working at Hooters and talking to him," she wrote. "He states several times … how he has seen me in Orlando. He describes how I look (like that I gained weight and cut my hair). He once came to my work at AT&T Call Center in Orlando and blocked me in my car."

Such details failed to convince Brevard Circuit Judge Dean Moxley, who denied Blanton's request for an emergency injunction.

In an interview Tuesday, Moxley told the Orlando Sentinel he could not determine from her petition whether Troy's actions met the legal definition of stalking. He set a hearing for Feb. 16 so that he or another judge could question her further to make sure, he said.

"As a judge, you have to follow the law. You're not omniscient," Moxley said. "God bless her soul."

The shooting happened shortly after 1 p.m. Monday when Blanton and her husband, Brent, a fellow AT&T employee, returned from lunch. They parted and headed toward separate entrances to the large building on Research Parkway, the victim's mother, Connie of Mo., told the Sentinel.

Blanton called her husband on his cell phone when her attacker approached, Connie said. Brent rushed to his wife of six months and found her on the ground. He started cardiopulmonary resuscitation, but it wasn't enough to save her.

"He was able to tell her that he loved her," Connie said.

In emergency-dispatch recordings released by the Sheriff's Office, witnesses describe ducking for cover in their cars and office buildings after seeing a man walk up to a woman in the parking lot and shoot her.

During one portion of the recording, a man thought to be Brent Blanton can be heard wailing. "Alyssa, I love you. I love you," he said. He cried out that they had a restraining order against the attacker and shouted for the ambulance.

Word of her daughter's death came as Connie prepared to go home from her job as a school secretary. Her cell phone rang. It was her ex-husband Mark calling from the hospital."Ali has been shot in the jaw," he said. Connie said she thought it was a joke, but she could hear a doctor talking in the background."Then I heard him say they couldn't revive her," Connie said.

Blanton grew up in a small town in eastern Missouri. Connie said she raised her daughter to be a sweet woman."I just always taught her to be nice to people, even people you don't know. It doesn't hurt to smile at somebody, especially if they're having a bad day," Connie said. Blanton spent her high-school summers in Brevard County visiting her father, her mother said. She loved the beach and moved to the Cocoa area two years ago, where she attended Brevard Community College with the hope of becoming a teacher.

The Merritt Island school where Blanton worked closed during the summer in 2008, so she found a job at Hooters to make ends meet before she joined AT&T. Blanton never told her mother there was trouble at the restaurant, but after the shooting, relatives told Connie that was where her daughter met the man who would become her killer. He was a regular and kept trying to touch her, according to Blanton's petition.

Troy owned a mail-order business and had moved from Ohio to Cocoa Beach in 2001. Attempts to reach a relative with whom he bought property last November in North Carolina were unsuccessful Tuesday.

In her petition, Blanton said she gave Troy her e-mail address after he badgered her for her phone number. Copies of the businessman's e-mails to Blanton contained angry rants about her Aug. 15 marriage."I know you hate me for pressing you to be honest — but I have a question — What in the Hell is wrong with you?" he wrote on Nov. 7, 2009. "That's all I am going to say and know as always I will not get an answer — my payment for caring about a young woman and how she screwed up her life."

Batterers and stalkers are most dangerous when they are suicidal, said Carol Wick, the chief executive officer of the domestic-violence shelter Harbor House. Obtaining injunctions against stalkers is often hard to do without the proper documentation, she said."Once they've made up their mind to die, a piece of paper is not going to make a difference," Wick said.

Troy, who had a concealed-weapons permit, shot Blanton several times before shooting himself in the head, according to the Sheriff's Office and Orange County Fire Rescue.His body lay in the parking lot for more than one hour covered by a yellow tarp after paramedics rushed Blanton to Florida Hospital East. She died late Monday.

Not all touchy feely, but...

2010-02-08T16:14:00.002-06:00

I just wanted to say to all you pals out there, whether you follow my blog or I follow yours, I sincerely appreciate all of you.

I love the fact that you are out there and can help me laugh, cry, vent and appreciate so much about not being alone in life.

Ok, eww.. I just sounded way girlier than intended. But really, y'all are truly amazing! HUGS

Daily Thanks

2010-02-05T10:29:00.009-06:00

Just taking a moment to say that I am thankful for my wonderful father-in-law.

He has been a LEO for 43 years and has been Chief of his department for 10 years. I refer to him as the biggest, baddest BMF in history.. lol, but that's just me. He was a Marine in Vietnam from 63-67. He started out as a police officer in a big city shortly after, and joined DCI a few years later. He then became a bomb and arson investigator who specialized in uncovering homicides masked by arson. Moved on to become a lead state-wide homicide and major crimes investigator, helped start the department he is with now, teaches criminal justice throughout the nation for numerous law enforcement agencies, consults for countless federal task forces and government projects. Teaches at police academies and universities within our state and is one of the top experts in interrogation in the country.

Seriously, have you ever seen "Meet The Parents"? Yeah, I still laugh because all I could think of when I met him was Robert DeNiro. The man is like a human lie detector. He can look at a person and profile them in thirty seconds. After I had gotten to know him, we had a conversation one day about the way he looks at people. I'll spare you the details since I am probably the only dork so fascinated by a guy like him.. but he's amazing.

A self-made man, no doubt. Second oldest of eight children born to Irish immigrants who came to the US with absolutely nothing. So little, in fact, that he spent from age three until age nine living in an orphanage. A fact not even my husband or I knew about until two weeks ago when we told him our own three year old son was having major separation anxiety when getting dropped off at daycare.

My fil is a man who absolutely adores his children and grandchildren. He takes such great care of his family and is one of the strongest, most loyal and modest men I have ever known. He has given so unselfishly in ways I can't even list.

It was rough losing my own dad at 14, but I am certain he would be overjoyed to know I gained such a great father-in-law.

So why am I doting on him? Well, first, he is one of the reasons I have such an amazing husband. Second, he is one of the reasons I have such amazing children. Third, just as he was seriously considering retirement, his contract as Chief was renewed for several more years!

Family

2010-01-26T21:19:00.010-06:00

We had a long, rough weekend. A family member committed suicide last week and we spent the weekend at the visitation and funeral. It was nice to see family, even though the circumstances were crap. Coming from a large Irish family, there is a little bit of infighting. Thankfully all of that ceased this weekend. A decade long grudge between two family members peacefully and genuinely came to an end. I was so happy for them both..and for everyone else, that their friendship was restored.

My husband is also a piper, so he, adorned in his kilt get up, played the pipes at the funeral. The departed was a soldier and all of his brothers and his father are police officers like the hubs. Everyone sobbed as my husband played Amazing Grace after the presentation of the flag to the mother.

After the funeral someone came up to hubs and gave him a big hug and said, "Funerals suck, but if there is one thing that makes a funeral awesome, it's hearing those pipes".

I was really proud of my man.

About Me - by request

2010-01-20T20:43:00.033-06:00

Here's a snapshot of me. It's 2010. I'm somewhere in my thirties. This is totally random. Don't look for it to make sense.

I don't know how to decorate

I don't know a thousand ways to reuse an empty milk jug but I can say that I am both thrifty and frugal.

I read self help books but usually find I already do all the things in them.. perhaps it's my way of justifying my actions?

I'm the kind of friend who doesn't call or write often, but would help you hide the body.

Some people think I'm antisocial. I'm not antisocial. I love people. I just don't like a$!%holes.

I'm really bad at math. Like, really bad. But I can balance a checkbook like nobody's business. Yeah.. I don't get it either.

People are always harping on me about not taking enough pictures of our family. In the words of David Lynch, "I like to remember things how I remember them. Not how a picture tells me to remember them." Besides, the way I see it, I only show photos to people I know. And if I know you, you don't really need a photo of me, right? Maybe my semi-Amish upbringing with no photos of people is still engrained in me.

I have no credit cards or auto loans.

In my thirty something years on earth, I have been diagnosed with three separate rare conditions. One occurs one in almost a billion. One occurs one is one hundred thousand. One occurs in four out of one hundred thousand. None of the three are related.

I am known as very precise and people tell me I was born to be a prosecutor because I can spot a lie a mile away.

I was raised by the best single dad on Earth.

One side of my family is all LEOs and the other side is all Firemen. Yeah, the jokes never end.

I am loyal, impatient, quick-witted, and have a morbid sense of humor.

Nothing drives me battier than people on speaker phone.

Sometimes when women at work talk to me, it literally begins to HURT. Do I have Asperger's? I mean the type of women who you don't really know, but they talk to you like you've been best friends for twenty years. They tell you about what they're going to make for dinner, how much laundry they have to do, when they plan to stop and fill the gas tank.
Me thinks: Really? Who the hell are you anyway lady?

Being married to a veteran LEO I generally don't trust the motives of anybody.

I go shopping when we run out of soap. Other than that, not a big fan of the stores.. except The Container Store. I am fascinated by all the stuff there. However, my house does not look like I have ever shopped at The Container Store.

I still own and wear a few articles of clothing from ninth grade (pants and shoes). Yes, as a matter of fact, I would be an excellent candidate for one of those "learn how to dress" shows.

I love cooking. Just when I was getting pretty darn good at it, the hubs was diagnosed with Celiac disease. Do you know what that does to the Pasta (and Breakfast Cereal) Queen of the Universe?

I have a cat who was raised by a dog. The cat now thinks she is a dog. She plays fetch and sleeps on her back with her paws up.

Yo hablo Espanol.

List of goofy things the hubs does

2010-01-15T13:38:00.014-06:00

Carries his gun to the range in a vintage Star Wars metal lunchbox.
Pulls the velcro straps off his vest so loud I wake up startled, wondering what planet I'm on.
Picks up boxes of .40 ammo and leaves them under the driver's seat of my car without telling me.
Leaves a random bullet or two in the cupholder or center console of my car.
Takes a marked up report from his female Lt. that needs corrections, whites out her notes and correction marks and hands it back to her and says, "I thought it was perfect so I just erased your suggestions. Here you go." After the Lt. stops having heart attack, he pulls out the clean, corrected version and hands it to her and chuckles.
Draws sharks in the river on his accident reports.
Appeases his female Sgt. and Lt. with chocolate when he's done something that aggravates them (which is usually telling inappropriate jokes).
Leaves hundreds of little strips of paper with random names and dobs.. all in a pile next to his uniform. (these are notes from accidents and calls he's gone to. I've learned over the years to stop throwing them away.. LOL)
Etched B.M.F. into his maglite.
Covered the butt end of his asp with white-out then neatly drew the Irish tri-color with markers.
Changes the station's computer screensaver to say, "I Like Doughnuts", then changes the password so nobody can erase it. It's the first thing people see when they walk in.
Put spinner hubcabs on his Lt.'s car while she was on vacation.

True story. One of Hubs' female co-workers bought an old house. She was telling him about how they had to gut the place and do all this work to it. She mentioned that they couldn't live in it yet because they didn't have running water due to some plumbing issues but they were going to have a plumber come in this week and fix it.

A day or two passed and the Hubs went into the station. All the female officers were huddled together and started talking really quietly when he walked in. He casually glanced across the station to this particular officer and asked, "How's your plumbing?".

There was a dead silence. Hubs, shrugged it off and got his paperwork and went back to the car.

A half hour later, the female Sgt. pulled up next to him and said, "You can't be so insensitive. She's having a really hard time."

Completely confused the Hubs asked, "What are you talking about?"

Sgt. replied, "We were all discussing her 'female issues' and how she's been going to the doctor to find out what's wrong and then you walk in and ask 'How's your plumbing'?"

Liberating Myself

2010-01-14T16:01:00.021-06:00

Ok, so, I'm strange. I'll admit it. I go through these phases where I just feel like getting rid of stuff. I like having things, and I do consider all of the things I have to be nice.

The other thing I notice about myself is that I think of "having" things as opposed to "owning" them. I don't know why I do this, but I think there is a big difference. A good difference, indeed.

This mindset helps me let go of stuff when the time is right. I find that I have an appreciation for what the items did for me and my life, but I have no attachment to them. I am not "emotionally involved" with the material item.

I also realize that when I have too much stuff, I am complicating my life and I am influencing my kids to want more stuff, too. None of us really think about it consciously. It just happens.

I know it's time to purge things when I start asking, "Where did this come from?" or saying "Where am I gonna put this?" and especially when I say, "We need a bigger house.. we're running out of room."

Alarms, bells, whistles, flashing lights .. whatever you want to call them, start going off in my head in those moments.

I am sort of an organizing freak. Kept items that get packed away are all uniformly packaged into matching Rubbermaid containers and clearly labeled on the outside. Then they all get neatly stacked into the basement storage area at our house.

Once that task is done, I look around and I still see a million things that I don't want, don't care about and wish weren't there.

Pause- I know I'm making it sound like I am a hoarder, but that's not true at all. We are a family of four living in an eight hundred square foot house. Itty-bitty living space.

Not to say that our house does not provide sufficient living space. We just have to live within that space and do so comfortably. A place for everything and everything in its place is great, but not when everything doesn't HAVE a place.

What I try to do is pick a day when the hubs can take the boys and get out of the house. I stand in front of our closet. Anything that the hubs or I have not worn in the last 6 months gets thrown into an empty bin. When he gets home, he gets 5 minutes to look through and veto anything (he usually doesn't) and then the lid goes on and straight into the car.

On to the next room. Usually the kids' rooms, but I include the living room, the kitchen, etc. Everything gets looked over room by room. Mostly empty bottles of whatever get pitched or recycled. Decorative things that collect dust and don't do anything for me go bye-bye to someone or someplace else.

It's a liberating feeling to get rid of crap. There is something very zen about cleaning, sorting and organizing. It's almost therapeutic at times.

Anyone else weird like me?

It's A New Year

2010-01-02T23:03:00.018-06:00

I'm working on the personal philosophy I'm going to live by this year. Yes, I know we're already into 2010 but I'm still establishing my mindset.

I was digging around in the basement storage and came upon a really good little excerpt I ran across several years ago. I am going to try my best to keep this in the front of my mind this year. I thought I'd share, as I know others can find this useful, too.

What do I have?

What does it mean?

Do I still want this in my life?

Do I need it in my life now?

Can I give any of my stuff away?

I decided several years ago that I couldn't bear to give my things to Goodwill for them to turn around and sell. It just didn't make any sense and maybe it's just me, but I didn't feel like I was really helping anyone. So.. I found the name of a local battered women and children's shelter. I didn't know anything about the place, other than what their services were but I called them anyway.

Sure enough, they were delighted that I had an entire walk-in closet full of perfectly good clothes and shoes that I could spare for women who, in many cases, left home with literally nothing but the clothes on their back.

They gave me the first name of a contact person and gave me an address. They told me the address was a local service station and that said contact person would meet me there at 1pm on Saturday.

I met Diana at the local service station with the entire back of the SUV full of nice, clean clothes and good looking shoes. Diana told me that they were virtually out of clothes and shoes and that what I was offering was perfect as many women they help are in desparate need of clothing suitable for finding a job and going to work.

We never talked any more about the shelter, but I could tell she was grateful and I can tell you that handing over my stuff was very, very humbling.

Many years ago as a know it all teenager I found myself in one of those terribly abusive relationships that I swore I would NEVER get into. I was a young, impressionable teenager.. he was five years older than me and just out of the service. I was stubborn and determined. He was insecure and jealous. There was a lot of bad, bad stuff.. which dragged out for five incredibly long years.

When I was 20, I remember getting a phone call very early one morning from my childhood friend's dad. He told me that my friend Jeni's husband had murdered her in a domestic dispute. I knew at that moment the reality of what could end up happening to me. I knew that it was time to go and it didn't matter what happened, nothing would be worse than what I had already endured... (ok so at least I hoped).

Anyway, I left the s.o.b.. I spent a lot of time scared of what he might do afterward, but eventually made peace and came to realize that all I could do is move on with my life and take whatever came at me. It was not an easy process but I got through it.

The day I met Diana and handed over my things, I realized that I could have been one of those women. I realized that my stuff was the least important thing in life. I felt happy knowing that the women who were going to wear those clothes were women who found the strength to bring themselves out of the darkest place in their lives.

Isn't it a great feeling when we can give to others? Not for prideful reasons, but for the wonderful reminders we receive? Knowing that we are not alone. It can be overwhelming if you stop to think about how many people can be impacted by one act of kindness.

I don't write this to say that I am noble or that I did something special.

I write this to encourage you to find a way to let go of some of the "stuff" in your life.

You never know. You might let go of a lot more than tangible things.

I Didn't Write This...

2009-12-23T01:07:00.003-06:00

but it's really good. I found it a bunch of years ago in some magazine and saved it. Hope you enjoy.

What do you call someone who not only disregards the flashing lights of a cop on her tail, but thrusts her arm out the window and flips him off?
A. a hardened criminal
B. a drunk driver
C. a crazy person
D. a cop's wife

Last week my husband and I attended a retirement send-off for one of his buddies' you know, one of those tedious, yet engaging, serious, yet goofy dinner roasts that lends itself to the recounting of the retiree's war stories. As a few of us couples sat around shooting the breeze at the end of the night, one of the wives recounted a war story of her own. Driving home from work one day, Cindy noticed in her rearview mirror that a motor officer was following her. Thinking it was her motor cop husband, she shrugged it off, though she wondered what he wanted. Before too long the officer turned on his strobes and signaled her to pull over. At first she was a little miffed, but not one to pass up a chance to have a little fun with her husband, and noticing few cars were on the road, she thrust her arm out the window and gave him the one-fingered salute. Even as the officer passed her she still believed it was her husband, since the uniform PD shirt, knee-high motor boots, helmet and sunglasses made the guy look just like him. Finally she stopped at a stoplight, but not until the cop approached her car and she saw him face to face did she realize her miscalculation. Of course the back pedaling began as the embarrassed cop's wife fumbled sheepishly and explained her mistaken assumption to the officer.

We all had a good laugh over our feisty friend's story. And, even though the rest of us winced at the thought of what she did like most people, cop husband or not, we still get rattled when we see those overheads in our rearview mirror. It's this very kind of gutsiness that makes the typical cop's wife different.

So, what is it like to be married to a police officer? Is it all high drama, with your days spent hero worshipping after his "shoot em up and book em Danno" shift? Do you find delight in sewing on his new arm patches, polishing his gun belt and knitting him badge-shaped slippers? I think not. But being married to a cop does color life in unique ways.

Strength and Solid Identity
Though it's true that any of us could lose our lives at any moment, not everyone who sends her husband out the door wonders if tonight's goodbye kiss and "be careful out there, hon" will be the last exchange they'll share.

For the cop's wife, it's these everyday realities that build strength of character and establish a firm identity. Someone summed it up well by saying that in a law enforcement marriage, there is no room for someone who is emotional, clingy or needy. Because a cop's wife's role often requires her to be self-sufficient, she needs to be sure of who she is. Of course her identity isn't derived solely from who she is to her husband. She has her own career, too, as a teacher, health care professional, administrative assistant, finance officer, full-time mom, or cop or other criminal justice professional herself, but never as a defense attorney.

A Call to Duty
Whether she works outside the home or in, the demands are many and the rewards are few, especially in the early years. Her husband helps out as much as he can, but her own "call to duty" requires that she juggle everything from household tasks, while keeping the kids quiet so Daddy can sleep, to playing chauffeur to those junior athletes and pediatrician's patients. Assuming responsibility where her husband cannot, she is the family's consummate chief cook and bottle washer.

Her children grow up learning that Christmas is not December 25th, but instead the day their dad is off duty to celebrate with the family. She's never been with him on New Year's Eve - a yearly marker that to her, is symbolized by the presence of riot gear, more training and an extra measure of worry and solitude.

A cop's wife learns to accept irony as part of her existence. Every time she makes a special dinner, in hopes that her husband will be able to steal a half-hour at home, he ends up working a double-fatal pileup or getting a drug bust. Yet the evenings she's sure the same thing will happen, she makes grilled cheese sandwiches and opens a can of soup for the kids only to have him come through the door beaming, "Hey babe", and lamenting, "It's deader than a doornail out there." Shift work can make her and her husband mere ships in the night, often not having days off together for years at a time. The time they are able to snatch together is often a voyage of calm, storm, calm, storm and more storm as they navigate through the relational stresses inherent in law enforcement marriages.

His "Pillar of Strength"
Over time, she becomes the crucial voice of awareness and balance for her husband. A passage in Vali Stone's Cops Don't Cry recounts a wife's story about how her husband was affected by a disturbing case involving the brutal abuse and murder of a baby. The parents, arrested for the homicide, were completely unremorseful. The officer, consumed by the case, visited the baby every day until she finally succumbed to her injuries. It took a couple of months before this officer's wife noticed changes in her husband: "He watched television all the time, didn't want to go anywhere, developed black stains under his eyes from lack of sleep, and he wouldn't talk much." Finally noticing bruises on his arms, she panicked. At first he was reluctant to tell her what had caused them, but he finally admitted to self-mutilating, a response to his emotional pain over the case. It was this officer's wife's concern that caused him to finally seek help.

Awareness of the "Dirty Side of Life"
My friend, Jan, says that before she was married she would probably have let in anyone who came to her door and put on the coffee to boot. Now she's more aware of her surroundings, more skeptical and more shrewd in her business dealings. Her views on hot-button issues like homelessness are perhaps less sympathetic than most people's because of her husband's inside view. Early in her marriage she might have blurted out to anyone that her husband is a cop, but no more. After years of doing the "restaurant seating dance" at eateries, she knows to defer to his need to sit where he can have the best possible vantage point. And, if somebody stares at her husband in public, she wonders if it's someone he's arrested, and she keeps an eye out for trouble.

Cop Humor
Isn't it ironic that those who usually have the most cause to cry are the ones who are expected not to? Cops, soldiers and health care professionals, for example. One coping mechanism cops use is humor. It's raw, dark and seemingly insensitive, but it can be a necessary tool in dealing with the tragic, corrupt and macabre aspects of police work.

I'll never forget a little exchange my husband told me about years ago: Gathering evidence and taking photos at the scene of a fatal accident, one officer, tweezers in hand, picked up a small chunk of brain tissue that had landed quite a distance from the crash. A second officer hollered to him, "Whatcha got?"
"Piece o' brain," the first answered. Then, without missing a beat, the second one weighed in with mock wistfulness, "Yeah, a mind is a terrible thing to waste."

A cop's wife picks up this sick humor, too. I'll never forget what "Kristen" said at her husband's 30th birthday party. Complaining that his pay and benefits were not commensurate with the danger and sacrifices of The Job, she threatened that if he ever had the nerve to die on her and leave her to raise their kids alone, he'd better do it on duty so that she could at least collect the meager life insurance payout. And, if perchance he were to die off duty, she had full intentions of stuffing the 6'4" 250-lb. lug into his uniform and dragging and hoisting the deadweight into the patrol car, which was always parked uphill on their street. Sick and callous as it sounds, it was her way of dealing with her frustration over the insulting pay and the possibility of losing him. It was also right in line with the type of dark humor she'd learned from her husband.

Not All Grit and Grind
Being married to a cop does have its advantages. After all, not everyone gets to have her driving critiqued by someone who's an expert in EVOC and traffic law. Knowing the inside scoop about high-profile cases is another benefit; you get a more informed perspective than the watered-down, politically correct version found in the newspaper. And, it's kind of amusing to hear about the local windbag politician who was stopped last week at 3 a.m. with two blonde tootsies in his car.

"Kim", another cop wife friend, pointed out that it's kind of nice to have her own police officer in the house, though he did nearly shoot their teenage son, whom he almost mistook for a burglar, when the kid was trying to sneak in late one night.

For me, the early years were the most challenging, and now that my kids are older, life isn't nearly as demanding. I'm glad we've made it this far and I believe more strongly than ever in the work my husband does serving our community. Another wife quoted in Cops Don't Cry says, "If I had to do it again, I wouldn't change a thing. I couldn't possibly live without the excitement and insanity of a police life. Anything else would pale in comparison."

So, with all of this in mind and more, it stands to reason that the correct answer to the multiple choice riddle at the top of the article is both C and D.

Chillin

2009-12-03T21:05:00.005-06:00

I am feeling really good. I'm still sore from the ET tube and my strap muscles in the sides of my neck are a little rough but otherwise I can't complain. I've had a bit of a cough but nothing too bad.

I was telling my bro tonight that he must have been right all these years. I suppose I do have ice water running through my veins. The doc said when they cut into my neck, I didn't bleed. They were amazed considering they had to do a 'deep neck dissection' and go really far to the left side of my neck. Of course he could not stop laughing.

So.. I ate an entire McRib sandwich, half a rotisserie chicken and half a container of mashed potatoes. I followed that up with a large chocolate shake. Man life is good!! I can't believe how much better things are already. This damn thing has been sucking the life out of me for two years and I am just so so thankful the little alien thing is out of me now. I can breathe and I can swallow which means I can EAT!

It's been great chillin with the hubs just watching movies and vegging out. Feels like we're in college again :) I'm sure he's loving the fact that I still have no voice!

Now I'm just waiting for pathology to do up the report so I can see if there was anything sinister. Not likely but I just want to breathe that sigh of relief. It'll be ready in another 2-3 days.

Still Alive

2009-12-02T17:42:00.004-06:00

Hello out there. I made it through my surgery yesterday just fine. They kept me overnight and I got home today. Meadowlark, you were so right about the anesthesia! My anesthesiologist was a retired Navy Captain and was amazing! The sweetest, gentlest man ever. I kept my mouth shut and acted like I was some kind of professional but he knew I was shaking in my boots.

They did all the preop fun like making me get naked underneath a piece of paper and then wheeled me back to the O.R. I remember the one doc telling me they were gonna put squeezy boots on me and then as they asked me to slide from the bed to the operating table, the sneaky anesthesiologist plunged the propofol! I was out as my head hit the table. Never even saw it coming it was fantastic! I woke up asking the nurse, "Did I just wake up?". She busted out in a chuckle and said, "yep". It was great. I let out a big cough which was kind of gross but then they gave me a 2 of morphine and started wheeling me for what seemed like miles through the hospital to my room. Never got sick. Never had any bad feelings. Just got good at laughing at myself repeating the same things over and over and saying, "I feel like I just told you this..".

The only thing I have taken since that initial morphine is straight liquid tylenol. I'm feeling really lucky about how everything went. It's kind of like a nasty case of strep throat. I ate angel food cake and ice cream yesterday. And a bunch of other junk, too.

I'm glad to be back at home and to see my little boys. The hubs was such a huge help taking care of me and is getting used to me not really having a voice. It comes and goes.

I'm looking forward to doing a bunch of nothing for the next 2-3 weeks. I needed the break from work anyway :)

I Am Thankful

2009-11-26T16:27:00.001-06:00

I'm thankful for friends and family, ghosts from the past, unexpected run-ins, things that go my way and sometimes things that don't; the ups & downs, the good, the bad and the ugly and all the things I continue to learn each day. I suppose after 31 years I'm also thankful my brother and I never actually managed to kill each other despite our countless attempts. I'm thankful that I have memories of my little sister asking me, "Why are you taking ALL of your socks?" when I moved out on my own. I'm thankful that my kids forgive me when I am not the best and that my husband does the dishes (although we still argue about how the dishwasher should be organized--if he would just do what I say...).

Poop in the butt is a crisis

2009-11-24T00:28:00.008-06:00

Mr. Pants is in that lovely season of life called potty training. He is three. We have been trying the underwear training pants. This is not fun. This is quite disgusting. This child will happily pee into the toilet. He will actually pee anywhere we ask him to.

On the other hand, this child refuses to poop anywhere except in his drawers. Seriously, let me take a minute to share his brilliant creativity with you. While the "poo", as it were, is always contained in the underpants - he has many hiding places where he goes to complete the mission. Here is the list:

Under the coffee table
Behind the pantry door
In the corner with a laundry basket over his head
Behind the far end of the couch
Under the kitchen table with all the chairs pulled in

My personal favorite is number 3 on the list. Really, who does this? Never in all my life, and even when I was 3, did I ever think to do my business with a laundry basket over my head. I have no clue how this idea got into his little brain.

Now, I am a very patient mom. But there is something about this poop challenge that is making me insane. Why, you ask? Because he will look right at me through his grunting and tell me he is not pooping. Then as soon as he finishes he will look up and tell me "We need to change my unda-wear". What?? NOW it's a crisis??

I've tried all the old trusty things like bribes, threats, positive reinforcement (I said bribes already, same thing), books, videos, etc. I don't push too hard and I don't do that cutting him off at the pass thing. Apparently I just don't understand the psychology of pooping.

I know, I know. We'll get there.

The Holidays... Eh

2009-11-23T17:35:00.007-06:00

So this post is not meant to stick in anyone's craw. Just this little thing I go through around this time each year. Let me tell you a little something about me. I am not creative. I am not artistic. I am really not even thoughtful. I'd like to be all of these things, but the truth is.. I'm just not.

I don't see things in July and think they would make a wonderful Christmas gift for so and so. I don't fill my home with the joyful scent of all things baking. I decorate in the most basic way and it's not because I don't enjoy decorating. I just don't know how. I think I was born without that part of the brain.

On the rare occasion I do decide to decorate or what have you, the cat knocks the ornaments off the tree (it's my husband's cat.. ) or my kids destroy something or make a totally different use for these things. Like replacing baby Jesus with R2D2 in the nativity scene. (ok I don't actually own a nativity scene, but this IS something they would do if I did)

Does this make me a grinch?

I am not good at gift wrapping and I hate crowds of people. It gets all hot and nasty in the stores and you can hear people hacking and coughing and sneezing.. and hoards of people on cell phones talking too loud like they don't understand volume control. They step all in my personal space and overshare way more information than I ever wanted to know about a complete stranger. Fights over parking spaces, people wanting to return stuff for sale prices... need I go on?

If you really want to know me, my doormat says it all.

"Martha Stewart Doesn't Live Here"

Somebody say a little prayer for me that I can become a better "holiday" person. And yes, I did just put that in quotes.

December 1st

2009-11-22T21:35:00.004-06:00

Hi all. Where have I been, you ask? Gearing up for surgery.. FINALLY. After much unneeded freaking out over a surgery I knew was inevitable, they actually set the date. So.. on December 1st I will undergo a Sistrunk Procedure. It's quite interesting. I will have to go under general anesthesia (completely out) for about an hour long surgery. I will then wake up, breathe on my own and get kicked out of the hospital the same day.

I have never been put under for anything in my life and however stupid it sounds I am totally freaked about it. I completely trust the doc. I will be at one of the best hospitals in the nation. There are teams of anesthesiologists who will be in the surgery center that day.. so what is my problem?

I think it's the after effects I am worried about. I don't take medicine, I have never taken pain pills.. well ok once I took a Tylenol 3 for a burn on my hand. I would never be a good junkie. Sheesh.

Anyway, not that I really am up for hearing horror stories, but please - anybody out there who has been under general anesthesia, would you please tell me the brutal truth about what to expect when coming to? I can't imagine what it's going to be like. I've heard it's kind of like having a hangover but seriously can someone educate me? And yes I asked ten billion questions during pre-op testing and they all give the standard "it'll be fine" without elaborating.

I know you guys & gals will give it to me straight. Thanks everybody.

Do You Ever?

2009-10-29T09:34:00.002-05:00

Do you ever get tired of knowing what 'really' happened? Some days I just want to slap people who comment on criminal cases they see in the news. They love to speculate and go over their 'CSI' theories when in reality they are completely, totally and entirely off-base.

It's hard some days to stand by and bite my tongue.

Anyone ever feel this way? Am I being over the top? Do share...

Time to relax

2009-10-27T15:31:00.006-05:00

We told The Dude that this year we needed to cut back on his activities. He was playing soccer, baseball, basketball and doing boy scouts and playing the whistle and the fiddle and doing dance at his Irish school.

It was getting to be too much. While I love the talents he possesses and am so proud to see him engage in group activities, it was getting to the point he could not be himself.

We were missing family time together, meals together and most importantly - time for relaxing. It's hard enough with daddy being gone as much as he has to be and it was just really hard to do everything by myself.

I didn't want to end up eating and doing homework in the car every night on the way to run somewhere. I want to go back to being a mom, NOT a chauffeur. Plus I want The Dude to have time to relax. He was involved in something every night of the week and usually Saturdays and Sundays, too.

We gave him the choice of what he felt he could sacrifice and explained that with the increasing amount of homework, we need to put that as a priority.

We also tried to explain that time with family is very important. We don't all have to sit and stare at each other every evening, but that time together needs to be priority.

I was so proud of him for not even wincing about giving something up. He almost seemed relieved. I've finally gotten over feeling like a bad mom!

And all this time I was agonizing over asking him to let something go, he freely and willingly did! I'm really looking forward to more time with my little ones!

Plus, those damn drive through dinners were getting really old!!

Space Camp

2009-10-02T13:53:00.019-05:00

It's Friday afternoon and I am at Space Camp (ok not literally)

I am sitting at my very unimportant desk job making entirely too much money for what I do and I am bored to death. I don't want to be here. And while I'm on it, it's not just today. It's every day.

Most days I take my dear sweet time getting my butt out of bed and getting ready for work. Then I pull into the parking lot and glare at the building with sleepy, resentful eyes. I say out loud to myself, "I cannot go in there today". It's like slow death... by butterknife. And before anyone comes off with it, I KNOW I should be thankful I have a job in current economic times, that there are millions of people who can't get a job, etc. I never said I'm ungrateful or unappreciative.. I recognize that I am in a much better place than a lot of people.

But I hate this job. I suppose part of this stems from the fact that since the fourth grade I thought I would be a Special Agent with the DEA. Working for one of the country's largest marketing firms doesn't exactly compare. I spent years preparing myself for what I thought would be a career of my dreams. I took nine years of Spanish so I could become fluent. I joined the Police Explorer Post at age fourteen. I was a good kid who stayed out of trouble and kept my nose clean.

I started working at age fourteen at a car wash and then when I turned fifteen I was the burger girl at Burger Thing. Plowed through school and graduated early at seventeen. Moved the hell out and went straight into a full time job at the exact same company I am working for now... FOURTEEN YEARS LATER.

Hindsight is 20/20. I know I let my own stubborn ass lead me to where I am now. I'm also honest enough to admit that even with excellent strategic planning, life happened. There is some truth to "having the world by the tail", but I let myself get comfortable and I let myself find excuses.

I had the chance to become a dispatcher when I was quite young and I decided that working rotating shifts was a lot different than my existing job which was a straight day gig with weekends off. I was a total moron. Then I was offered a job traveling all over Central and South America putting my awesome Spanish skills to use and like an idiot I let my insecurities get the best of me and decided to pass it up.

Here I am in damn near middle age and I feel like I can't even tell you what I'm about. What I'm good at, what I like, what I want, etc. I'm a freaking mess. I'm kicking myself. I played it "safe" and it's the biggest regret of my life.

The one thing I can say is that through all of this I found the hubs, we had The Dude and Mr. Pants and they are truly the biggest representation of who and what I am. I love my family and I would never be able to go on without them. Now I look at my kids and realize I am SO totally NOT the example for them I thought I would be when they were just hypothetical beings.

I think I need a reset button.

Know Yourself

2009-10-02T13:31:00.046-05:00

Know Your Purpose: Know Yourself

"A person who doubts himself is like a man who would enlist in the ranks of his enemies and bear arms against himself. He makes his failure certain by himself being the first person to be convinced of it. "

I figure at best, and if I'm lucky, I'm halfway through life already. And when I think about the first half I realize that I spent entirely too much time wandering around like a lost male refusing to ask for directions- all the while insisting things were going exactly as I had planned. I wasn't honest with myself.

You've probably sensed by now that my writing can get a little deep, which is also why I tend not to write as much anymore.

I've spent the last two years going through some grueling medical stuff. Things got really dark, really scary and really frustrating.

One day two years ago, I was eating pizza and all of the sudden it was as if my body had completely forgotten how to swallow. It was like I was an infant and someone just shoved a huge slice of pizza in my mouth and I had no idea what to do with it. I could chew, but could not swallow. I felt what I can only describe as a cross between choking (cough cough) and suffocating (as if I had inhaled the food into my lungs). It was pretty intermittent for several months and I just made sure to always keep something to drink with me whenever I would eat anything.

As time rolled on, it became more frequent and eventually became constant. I could not eat applesauce, mashed potatoes or even soup. It was ungodly how sad I became. I felt abnormal, I felt doomed and I certainly knew something was wrong with me.

I went to my primary doc who told me I had anxiety. I pleaded that she run some tests just to cross things off the list so she checked for asthma and for arthritis. All came back negative. Getting through the day at my desk job became extremely difficult as I would experience bouts of lightheadedness and near fainting just sitting doing nothing.

I stuck with that doc (had been with her since I was a child) and after months of no improvement followed by months of no offer to help I switched docs. I don't believe in doc hopping but I felt I had no choice. Found a doc who came highly recommended at the local teaching hospital and went to her. Right away she was suspicious of my thyroid and so she ordered thyroid labs and a barium swallow study.

Both tests came back with nothing. Thyroid was perfect and barium swallow showed no abnormal structures in my esophagus. I did find that I was severely deficient in Vitamin D (I had virtually NONE) so I started a supplement per her request. Three months went by with zero improvement.

I wanted to come back and beg for her to check further but she was on vacation. I saw her partner instead and he was very patient and understanding. He thought maybe I was having some sort of bad, obscure allergic reaction to something and put me on a strong antihistamine and a steroid. Let me just say that outside of feeling dryer than a bucket of sand and mentally disturbed, this did nothing for me. I persisted. He sent me to an ENT specialist (known around the world - VERY talented). Went to the dang ENT and he looked at me and gave me that "there's nothing wrong with you" look and said that the only things he could do would be quite invasive (tube through my nose and down my throat, etc.). He suggested a Neurologist.

I went to the Neurologist who ruled out MS, myashtenia gravis (a rare muscle disorder) and some other stuff he said I'd "probably never heard of and hopefully never will". God love him, I'd seen him for years when I was younger for bad headaches and was so glad he did the ruling out game with me. He could find nothing. I thanked him and went back to wanting to find a cliff to jump off of.

Circled back to my primary doc and explained to him that if he took a look at my history just from this current calendar year, he'd see I've lost 30 pounds. I was only 130lbs to begin with so 30 pounds was a HUGE amount. His eyes got as big as dinner plates. We reviewed how for two years now I cannot swallow and half the time cannot breathe. I showed him the area of my neck where I 'sensed' this coming from and lo and behold he grabbed a knot on the midline of my neck BIG ENOUGH TO HOLD ONTO. I thought he was going to pass out from the shock. He asked, "Have we CT'd this?". I told him NO that nobody had done any sort of imaging and that lots of bloodwork had been done by various docs but nobody actually looked to see what was in my neck.

He immediately referred me to the 3rd floor for a ct scan. Insurance refused because they are a bunch of assholes (sorry) after I waited TWO hours. They insisted I have an ultrasound first to make sure I wasn't some crazy woman with no need for a ct scan. Anyway, got the ultrasound and I'll be damned if there isn't a lumpy area in my neck with minor lymph node involvement.

Now, I didn't freak but only because my labs had all shown normal blood counts as recent as last week, so I didn't really believe it was the big "C". The doc --who was way hot by the way, looked like Matt Damon--, turned the ultrasound screen around and showed me the two little masses and said, "This is a Thyroglossal Duct Cyst and this is a lymph node that is really pissed off about the cyst being there."

I was so relieved it wasn't cancer and honestly was relieved that for the first time in two years I knew without a doubt I was NOT crazy. I sort of chuckled through my tears and told the doc he could say there was a hotwheel stuck in my throat and I wouldn't care at this point. He just smiled and reassured me that everything was going to be just fine. It's a simple surgical extraction that takes about an hour under general. He told me I would wake up a brand new woman.

He had the second doc come in just to give some additional input on the report and they took lots of extra ultrasound pictures and measurements. By the way, strangest compliment ever from a hot doctor. He said I have a beautiful neck. How sweet. At that point I stopped being pissed that insurance refused a ct scan. SEE everything happens for a reason :)

So here we are. I am going back to the head and neck/ENT specialist this Wednesday. I'm hoping he will assign me a surgery date. While I am terrified as hell about going under general anesthesia I want to wake up and go eat a fat steak for dinner!! My bro promised that was going to be my reward. The hubs said he has certain other plans.

This condition is a congenital defect that occurs between 4-7 weeks in utero. How crazy is that? Your thyroid starts out up in your mouth and descends down this thyroglossal duct. The thyroid gland lands just above your collarbone and the duct or tract is supposed to virtually disappear. Well, although my thyroid went where it should have, the duct never disappeared and some leftover tissue and other yummy stuff has built up in it causing this thyroglossal duct cyst. Due to its location, it presses in not only on my esophagus but on my trachea.. which is why I could NOT BREATHE!!

So here is why I believe it is important to know yourself. I recognized very early on that I had lost all ability to be myself through this ordeal. I lost my temper, I turned into a lump of pathetic spaghetti... I stopped showing love and affection because I was so caught up in being mad and depressed all the time. Physically my body was giving out from the malnourishment and constantly fighting to keep infection at bay. I became someone I hated. I started to cave to the idea that I had cancer (my dad died from it) and that one day I was just not going to wake up or something horribly sinister like that.

I know now that persistence was key. Sure, I'm sad that it took lots of pain and anguish and tons of time and money, but what's most upsetting is what it did to my family. I wish I could have been more of an optimist. I wish I could have taught my kids that the most important thing is never giving up. I suppose I did, but not with much grace. I put so many of my dreams on hold, indefinitely, because I couldn't think of tomorrow.

What I have now is the long list of things I want to do, feel, see and experience in this lifetime. I understand what it truly means to be thankful. I have experienced the real meaning of love from a husband and family who stood by me, put up with me and encouraged me to press on and get answers.

And I cannot omit mercy. Mercy has many different definitions, but my personal favorite is "the easing of distress or pain".

I am so thankful for the love and mercy I have been shown. I have found myself again and I surely understand my purpose. I was put here to be a wife and mother. I vow to never let anything get in the way of that ever again.

Childbirth (PG-13)

2009-09-14T13:07:00.021-05:00

You know how they're sure Christ wasn't Irish?
They couldn't find three wise men or a virgin in all of Ireland.

The husband is Irish. Come on, he's IRISH. They are good at many things, but they are experts at few.

1. Drinking
2. Fighting
3. Storytelling
4. Playing musical instruments
5. Being policemen
6. Having LARGE BROODS

Ah.. so the littlest one is 3 now and the time is upon us that my husband is dying for more kids. We have 2 already. I'm down for having as many kids as he wants, as I want lots, too. I don't mind poopy diapers, teething, drooling, fevers, diaper rash, sleepless nights, mass confusion, delirium, etc.

Kids are worth every ounce of pain in the butt they can be. I have realized since having kids I would make a fantastic Marine. I can multi-task on no sleep, no food, and with someone screaming in my ear all the time.

I remember with the last little one I happened to go into labor during an evening when multiple tornadoes had spawned. Apparently my children insist on a grand entrance. I knew I was in early labor, so what, like any woman I decided to go shoe shopping at Marshall's. Turned out to be not such a great idea. I got to the store (through the tornado and torrential downpour) only to end up LOCKED inside the store. No joke. Their company policy is to lock all shoppers inside and move them to the back of the store away from glass during tornado sirens.

We were all herded to the back like cattle and at that moment I sort of raised my hand and said, "Um... excuse me. How long are we going to be locked in here?". The store manager who was NOT thrilled at this question just rolled her eyes at me.

It was then that I busted out the cell phone and as we all stood there in the dark I said, "Hi sweetie. Where are you? Oh you're at the jail with a warrant arrest? Oh.. uh.. ok..". The hubs knew something wasn't right so I broke the silence with.."Well, there is no reason to panic but I am in labor so I just wanted to let you know".

The store manager happily escorted me to the front of the store and led me out like an unwanted customer! I was never so happy. Can you imagine? Locked inside Marshall's in the dark in LABOR??

Anyway, of course when I broke the news to the hubs he drove like a madman through the next tornado to try to get home to me. Thank God for the police car that day.

He met me at home where I had the genius idea of trying to shower- in the dark- with NO electricity- in late JULY. Yeah, gotta love the pregnant brain. Then I rushed around trying to find my hospital bag in the dark. It was like 8,000 degrees in our house because apparently during the previous several-tornado-hours I was out shoe shopping, the power went out. Lovely. Just what I needed.

So we rushed to the hospital and went through the whole hours-long thing where they make sure you aren't some paranoid first time mother with gas, and then finally got admitted to a room.

For some reason I seem to have a life filled with Twin Peaks experiences. I got into the room and no joke the air conditioning was out. I thought it was strange and when I asked if it was just me noticing it was AFRICA hot in there, the nurse told me that all the power was out and that the hospital was running on generators. Yeah.. that's exactly what you want to hear while you're in labor in July.

So anyway... I was about ten days early and was really wanting to get things going so I tried to be a good student and put my Bradley Method classes to work. Ok, scroll up and remember I said my husband is IRISH. Bradley is a method of husband-coached childbirth. Seriously people, put down your drinks because you are going to either choke or pee in your pants when you read this.

As I began to writhe in pain, wishing for death, my husband decided to be a 'good coach'. He was taught in Bradley class that he should think of some really special, fond thoughts that could help me find a place of peace and relaxation. The teacher had suggested talking about a second honeymoon, visualizing the place, the romance, the relaxation, etc.

So what does the hubs decide to do? He leans over all sweet and snuggles up to my ear. I then hear the following words whispered into my ear: "Pretend you're riding your bike. It's a Huffy. You're doing a wheelie."..... I couldn't tell you what he said beyond that because I was laughing so hard the nurse outside in the hall thought I was on hard drugs! God love the man. He is just hilarious.

Labor was moving along and then I got hung up around 4 centimeters. The hubs was terrified of falling asleep during the lulls in my agony so he pressed on, delirious. He kept trying to tell me how proud he was of me and how wonderful it was going to be to meet our baby. So, like any good wife, what did I do?

I asked him to get into the jacuzzi tub with me in our room. And I proceeded to make the water 8,000 degrees. I was in labor and from all the sweating and agonizing somehow I became chilly and thought a hot bath sounded soo good. Here I am weighing in at a huge amount I shall not disclose because I am far too vain, and I look at him and ask, "Well, aren't you going to get in and rub my back?".

I could tell he wanted to die, right there in the hospital bathroom, right at that very moment. There was no way in hell he wanted to get any closer as he was already dying from the steam and the lack of air conditioning in the whole hospital. (Of course I had no recollection of any of this until watching the video a year later)

But since he is an amazingly awesome husband, he sunk into the tub trying to hide the fact that he felt like he was being burned at the stake. The nurse came in a short time later (notice how they don't really care if you are concerned with modesty of any sort?)

She must have noticed my husband falling unconscious or something because it was then she suggested we should get out of the tub. She said, "I think you've scalded your baby long enough..... and your husband, too". I know my husband wanted to give her a high-five, but he acted like everything was just great.

We meandered back into the room where I put on my ugly mu-mu gown and began bouncing on the exercise ball. I can only imagine how terribly unattractive this must have been to my husband. I looked heinous but he stayed by my side and made sure I didn't fall off and give myself a concussion. He was great. The contractions were NOT.

They decided after many hours and unsuccessful attempts to get me really moving to start pumping me full of pitocin. I would rather have my fingernails removed without anesthetic than go through that ever again.

My poor husband saw me do everything short of spinning my head all the way around and spit pea soup. It - was - NOT - pretty.

I wanted him to feel proud being the coach, the hubs, the tough cop who could handle anything. That's what the Bradley Method is all about. The hubs taking charge, the hubs running the show. My hubs... he wanted to run... OUT THE DOOR!

I was all screaming and crying and then thirty seconds later I would be fine and nearly dozing off to sleep.. only to be hit by another contraction and all of the savagery would start again. I probably reminded him of the worst bi-polar citizen he had ever dealt with while at work. It's the only way I know how to put it from his perspective. Sheesh.

He was getting used to dealing with my kicking, pushing, throwing, cussing, etc. (oh did I mention he had short change the day or two before labor? yeah worked midnights then switched to afternoons and wham I went into labor) The poor guy was barely conscious and trying to hold on..

but the end was nowhere in sight. Every time he would get comfortable I would start yelling about how I needed him to help me move my HUGE FAT BUTT into some other unattractive position so I could yell about my misery some more. And he did it all with kindness and compassion.

Soon a team of nurses made their way into my room. Seriously, I thought something must have been wrong. "Did I yell that loud?", I thought to myself. "Are they kicking me out?". Sheesh.

Nope, turns out it was a group of doctors and students who wanted to use my nether-lands as a practice arena. I was so mentally and physically exhausted I just said, "ok". I figured there I was sprawled out like a bad science experiment - why not?

The first gal "checked me", then the next, then the third.. by that point I was irritated and my husband was in complete shock. He had never witnessed anyone put their ENTIRE FOREARM into any part of my body and when we got to person number 3 he thought he was hallucinating.

I was irritated and I am not the nicest person when in that state so I made the following inappropriate, smart-alek remark, "Well gee folks, while we're at it why don't we set up a number dispenser in the waiting room and we can just let everybody have a turn".

Uh... yeah doctors don't share the same sense of humor as me. Didn't go over so well. But it did get them out of my body parts and out of my room.

Next thing you know I passed transition and was unconscious for a couple of peaceful minutes.. who knows, maybe I passed out from the pain. Anyway, it felt like sleep and I woke up to the doc coming in telling me to push. So I pushed and he asked if I wanted a break.. told him "nope" and pushed two more times. He told me to catch the baby.

I grabbed my baby, terrified he would slither out of my hands, and brought him up to my chest. I was expecting him to be ugly as sin like some kind of slime-covered alien, but he wasn't.

He was PERFECT. He was BEAUTIFUL.. and he looked exactly like the hubs. He had a little swoop of brown hair perfectly swirled into a quiff on the top of his head. All the nurses busted out laughing at how he was born looking like he had just come from the barbershop.

The hubs stood there in awe, crying like a school girl. I asked for a kiss. We hugged, we laughed, we cried. It was one of the best days of my life.

11 "Don't-Tell-the-Wife" Secrets All Men Keep

2009-09-14T11:08:00.006-05:00

To all my gals out there.. I happened to find this hilarious and insightful. Hoping it will bring some humor to your day. Enjoy!

By Ty Wenger

I was in the ninth grade when I learned a vital lesson about love. My girlfriend at the time, Amy, was stunningly cute, frighteningly smart and armed with a seemingly endless supply of form-fitting angora sweaters. And me? Let's just say I was an adolescent Chris Robinson to her budding Kate Hudson -- and well aware of my good fortune.
Then one day, as we stood in line for a movie at the mall, Simone Shaw, junior high prom queen, sauntered by. Suddenly Amy turned to me. "Were you looking at her?" she asked. "Do you think she's pretty?"

My mind reeled. Of course I was looking at her! Of course she was pretty! My God, she was Simone Shaw! I paused for a second, then decided to play it straight.
"Well, yeah," I chortled.

Five days later our breakup hit the tabloids (a.k.a. the lunchroom).
There comes a time in every man's life when he discovers the value of hiding the grosser parts of his nature. He starts reciting the sweet nothings you long to hear: "No, honey, I play golf for the exercise." "No, honey, I think you're a great driver." "No, honey, I wasn't looking at that coed washing the car in the rain."

We're not lying, exactly. We're just making things...easier. But Glenn Good, Ph.D., a relationship counselor, disagrees, and maybe he has a point. "These white lies are pretty innocent, but they can turn confusing," he says. "Many women think, If he's lying about himself, is he also lying about something else? Is he having an affair? To establish trust you have to tell the truth about the innocuous stuff."

And so, in the interest of uniting the sexes, we've scoured the country for guys willing to share the private truths they wouldn't normally confess. Some are a bit crass. Some you've always suspected. Some are surprisingly sweet. (Guys don't like to reveal the mushy stuff, either.) But read on, and you may discover that the truth about men isn't all that ugly.

Secret #1: Yes, we fall in lust 10 times a day -- but it doesn't mean we want to leave you
If the oldest question in history is "What's for dinner?" the second oldest is "Were you looking at her?" The answer: Yes -- yes, we were. If you're sure your man doesn't look, it only means he possesses acute peripheral vision.

"When a woman walks by, even if I'm with my girlfriend, my vision picks it up," says Doug LaFlamme, 28, of Laguna Hills, California. "I fight the urge to look, but I just have to. I'm really in trouble if the woman walking by has a low-cut top on."
Granted, we men are well aware that our sizing up the produce doesn't sit well with you, given that we've already gone through the checkout line together. But our passing glances pose no threat.

"It's not that I want to make a move on her," says LaFlamme. "Looking at other women is like a radar that just won't turn off."

Secret #2: We actually do play golf to get away from you
More than 21 million American men play at least one round of golf a year; of those, an astounding 75 percent regularly shoot worse than 90 strokes a round. In other words, they stink. The point is this: "Going golfing" is not really about golf. It's about you, the house, the kids -- and the absence thereof.

"I certainly don't play because I find it relaxing and enjoyable," admits Roland Buckingham, 32, of Lewes, Delaware, whose usual golf score of 105 is a far-from-soothing figure. "As a matter of fact, sometimes by the fourth hole I wish I were back at the house with the kids screaming. But any time I leave the house and don't invite my wife or kids -- whether it's for golf or bowling or picking up roadkill -- I'm just getting away."

Secret #3: We're unnerved by the notion of commitment, even after we've made one to you
This is a dicey one, so first things first: We love you to death. We think you're fantastic. Most of the time we're absolutely thrilled that we've made a lifelong vow of fidelity to you in front of our families, our friends and an expensive videographer.

But most of us didn't spend our formative years thinking, "Gosh, I just can't wait to settle down with a nice girl so we can grow old together." Instead we were obsessed with how many women who resembled Britney Spears we could have sex with before we turned 30. Generally it takes us a few years (or decades) to fully perish that thought.

Secret #4: Earning money makes us feel important
In more than 7.4 million U.S. marriages, the wife earns more than the husband -- almost double the number in 1981. This of course is a terrific development for women in the workplace and warmly embraced by all American men, right? Right?

Yeah, well, that's what we tell you. But we're shallow, competitive egomaniacs. You don't think it gets under our skin if our woman's bringing home more bacon than we are -- and frying it up in a pan?

"My wife and I are both reporters at the same newspaper," says Jeffrey Newton, 33, of Fayetteville, South Carolina. "Five years into our marriage I still check her pay stub to see how much more an hour I make than she does. And because she works harder, she keeps closing the gap."

Secret #5: Though we often protest, we actually enjoy fixing things around the house
I risk being shunned at the local bar if this magazine finds its way there, because few charades are as beloved by guys as this one. To hear us talk, the Bataan Death March beats grouting that bathroom shower. And, as 30-year-old Ed Powers of Chicago admits, it's a shameless lie. "In truth, it's rewarding to tinker with and fix something that, without us, would remain broken forever," he says. Plus we get to use tools.

"The reason we don't share this information," Powers adds, "is that most women don't differentiate between taking out the trash and fixing that broken hinge; to them, both are tasks we need to get done over the weekend, preferably during the Bears game. But we want the use-your-hands, think-about-the-steps-in-the-process, home-repair opportunity, not the repetitive, no-possibility-of-a-compliment, mind-dulling, purely physical task." There. Secret's out.

Secret #6: We like it when you mother us, but we're terrified that you'll become your mother
With apologies to Sigmund Freud, Gloria Steinem -- and my mother-in-law.

Secret #7: Every year we love you more
Sure, we look like adults. We own a few suits. We can probably order wine without giggling. But although we resemble our father when he was our age, we still feel like that 4-year-old clutching his pant leg.

With that much room left on our emotional-growth charts, we sense we've only begun to admire you in the ways we will when we're 40, 50 and -- God forbid -- 60. We can't explain this to you, because it would probably come out sounding like we don't love you now.

"It took at least a year before I really started to appreciate my wife for something other than just great sex; and I didn't discover her mind fully until the third year we were married," says Newton. "But the older and wiser I get, the more I love my wife." Adds J.P. Neal, 32, of Potomac, Maryland: "The for-richer-or-poorer, for-better-or-worse aspects of marriage don't hit you right away. It's only during those rare times when we take stock of our life that it starts to sink in."

Secret #8: We don't really understand what you're talking about
You know how, during the day, you sometimes think about certain deep, complex "issues" in your relationship? Then when you get home, you want to "discuss" these issues? And during these "discussions," your man sits there nodding and saying things like "Sure, I understand," "That makes perfect sense" and "I'll do better next time"?

Well, we don't understand. It doesn't make any sense to us at all. And although we'd like to do better next time, we could only do so if, in fact, we had an idea of what you're talking about.
We do care. Just be aware that the part of our brain that processes this stuff is where we store sports trivia.

Secret #9: We are terrified when you drive
Want to know how to reduce your big, tough guy to a quivering mass of fear? Ask him for the car keys.

"I am scared to death when she drives," says LaFlamme.
"Every time I ride with her, I fully accept that I may die at any moment," says Buckingham.
"My wife has about one 'car panic' story a week -- and it's never her fault. All these horrible things just keep happening -- it must be her bad luck," says Andy Beshuk, 31, of Jefferson City, Missouri.
Even if your man is too diplomatic to tell you, he is terrified that you will turn him into a crash-test dummy.

Secret #10: We'll always wish we were 25 again
Granted, when I was 25 I was working 16-hour days and eating shrimp-flavored Ramen noodles six times a week. But as much as we love being with you now, we will always look back fondly on the malnourished freedom of our misguided youth. "Springsteen concerts, the '91 Mets, the Clinton presidency -- most guys reminisce about the days when life was good, easy and free of responsibility," says Rob Aronson, 41, of Livingston, New Jersey, who's been married for 11 years. "At 25 you can get away with things you just can't get away with at 40."

While it doesn't mean we're leaving you to join a rock band, it does explain why we occasionally come home from Pep Boys with a leather steering-wheel cover and a Born to Run CD.

Secret #11: Give us an inch and we'll give you a lifetime
I was on a trip to Mexico, standing on a beach, waxing my surfboard and admiring the glistening 10-foot waves, when I decided to marry the woman who is now my wife. Sure, this was three years before I got around to popping the question. But that was when I knew.

Why? Because she'd let me go on vacation alone. Hell, she made me go. This is the most important thing a man never told you: If you let us be dumb guys, if you embrace our stupid poker night, if you encourage us to go surfing -- by ourselves -- our silly little hearts, with their manly warts and all, will embrace you forever for it.

And that's the truth.