No, I don’t drive like a cop

Fact is I don’t drive well at all! I drive more like a teenager her first time behind the wheel. Someday I am going to be super rich and hire a driver! I don’t know how I am going to get super rich being married to a cop. Might make more money if he worked for the pizza place. . . I need to think about that one, we might be making a career change.

Anyway, back to the driving. We went to see the booths set up at the fairgrounds today. It was busy, and there was no real parking. People just park where they want in a big field. It was packed today! I drove in with my big old van. First “lane” no parking place. Keep going and turn into the second “lane” still no parking. This goes on until I am near the end where I THINK I can get out. No. I cannot get out. I am blocked in. There is a big truck with something attached to it just blocking anyway out. So I put it in backwards. Oh it’s called reverse. Anyway, another car comes from behind me and makes it so I have to be like some pro race car driver in order to turn the corner, IF I were going forwards! But no, I am going backwards! So I do some magic moves. It went something like this:

Forward

Back

Forward left

Back right


Forward right

Back left

Stop and cry

Repeat!

After a good 15 minutes I was able to get the car turned around, only bumping maybe 5 other cars. I found a place to park and call T-rex. He was in a lot of trouble! I don’t care that he was working, he should have taken us, or seeing as he is the one who taught me how to drive he should have taught me how to deal with stuff like that. ERR. I hate driving.


So here I am the wife of a cop in tears because I cannot drive! Yeah I don’t see anything wrong with this picture either.

Image by Getty Images via @daylife

It doesn’t work!

So I could not get the idea of hiding from the kids at nap time out of my head. How nice it would be to just blend away in the background and take a nice 30 minute rest. Camouflage is made to keep people hidden from the enemy right? Surely it could fool a 6 year old for 30 minutes.

Well, first I tried normal camouflage, thinking maybe there was some magic power in the fabric or something. It did not work; the kids only asked why I was wearing Daddy’s work clothes.

So I thought I would get something to match the couch, something the same color and fabric. I was up all night stitching a nice jacket, pants, and even a hat. I was eager to try it out! When the kids were playing outside I thought I would just slip it on and take a quick, peaceful nap on the couch.

THEY FOUND ME! It took a whole 5 minutes for all three of the kids to run inside. They found me in 2.4 seconds. “Mom! I want a drink!” I tried to act like I was not there, thinking if I don’t move they would go away. What is that trick with bears, act dead? Well it did not work. When I did not respond right away they started to poke me with random things left on the floor.

This stuff does not work! I have tried everything I can think of. How is this going to work for T-rex when he is out? If a 6 year old can figure it out I am sure a person who is, in theory, smarter than a 6 year old can figure it out.

This post is dedicated to Helen at I'm living proof that God has a Sense of Humor. . . . check it out for some funny stuff!

Image via Wikipedia

Name calling? Just funny!

Bonus post today:


My Dad is so cool, dorky, slightly nerdy, and very puny. I love him!

The other day Rae was being a goof. She was sitting on Papa, talking to him, poking him, and just being silly.

Well my dad in his great thinking looks over to me and says:

“I know why Rae is such a ham! It’s because her dad is a pig!”



I could not help but laugh, and a lot! Rae is a ham. And as much as I don’t care for our officers being called pigs, I can’t really think of a better explanation! I wonder if there is some kind of "pork" thing going on.  Lilly ate 3 bowels of cereal today . .something to think about I guess.



So enjoy today’s little bonus post.

There are guns in there!

I storm down the hall yelling “Dino, get your butt out of there!” Panic was about to set in, what was she doing?

Dino is daddy’s little girl. She wants to be just like him. She will push me out of bed so she can snuggle with him the morning. His being gone has been very hard on her. To find her in my room was not that big of a surprise.

Dino pokes her head out of the room “Why Mommy?”

Oh she knows why! That’s MY room. It’s not some play room where every new drawer holds a grand toy for little fingers to mess with. Not to mention that Dino is a walking mess! No, really! I would tell people she has been standing there for 5 minutes all the stinky stuff in the room is now attached to her. She is tomboy in a dress. Her favorite color is Purple and this is, in part at least, because it makes T-rex cringe. She loves to get a rise out of people and see how far she can push things. She does not back down, does not give in, and sure as heck does not let anyone tell her no. If you say you can’t give her candy because you don’t have any, she will give you a map to the store. Nanny 911 has never met the likes of Dino.

 We have been over all the reasons why she can’t be in there before. I was about ready to lose it! My brain kicked in, or stopped, whatever, I was not going to tell her the same thing over and over again. “Because there are guns in there!” I yelled across the hall, thinking I either won this fight for good, or scarred my child for life.

“But what if there is a bad guy? Then can I come in your room?” Dino always has a comeback. I should have been prepared, but I wasn’t.

“No you can’t go in there!” My brain was still not working, I should have known she would ask why, and she did.

“Because. First off, you’re not old enough to shoot. Second, you don’t know how to shoot, and third because I SAID SO!” I won, I was sure of it this time. She slowly made it the rest of the way out of my room.

“But, Daddy can take me shooting, and I am 5 now, so that’s older.” Dino was not going to let this go. I was starting to get mad.

“No, Dino you can’t be in Mommy’s room! And 5 years old is still too young.” I was too busy thinking about putting locks on my door to notice the mess she had left in my room, most of it sticky I am sure.

“When I am six?” She really was going to try everything.

“No, not even then.” I was having a hard time not locking her in her room!

“When I am 7 can I?”

“Dino you cannot go into my room. EVER.”

“But what about when I am 8?” She was not going to give in. I could tell this was going to be a long night if I didn’t do something fast.

“Dino, let’s go get ice-cream!” I knew this would work. But I had to really make sure she got that she was not to be in my room. “And if you ever go into Mommy’s room again I will ground you.”

I won! We went and got ice-cream, much to the delight of Lilly and Rae. I hope she does not go into my room again thinking she will get ice-cream. . . But at least today my room is safe, as their bellies are full.

Camo Pants

I was doing the wash the other day when I noticed T-rex’s camouflage pants still needed put away.


This got me thinking. He wears camo when he is out with the Tac team. In theory this is to keep him safe. I mean camouflage was invented to hide our soldiers, right? So it’s safe to say that the idea behind having the Tac Team use camo is to keep them more hidden. I don’t know but there doesn’t seem to be that much that can be done to hide a big truck, or two, and 12 or more guys knocking down a door. Then again, I am not in tactics, so what do I know.

If this fabric has some kind of magic power that keeps the enemy from seeing you I want some. I want mine the same brown that matches my couch. I wonder if that will keep the kids from seeing me . . . . trust me they are the enemy at nap time!

How to wash a Kevlar vest, and get the stink out of an undershirt:

Please note that this is just a general outline. You may find you can skip a few steps, or you may need to add a few more. For instance you may want to make your husband do number 4, or you may find step number 1 is best repeated every other step. This is okay. The rules can be changed. If it is a must you will see a * beside the step. Some steps must be done before others. In that case you will see a little ^ next to the step to indicate that this step must be done before the ones after it.

1. Yell at husband for putting stinky shirt and vest on bed. Now the whole room stinks like underarms, and your new bedding is too big for your little washer, so you must take it downtown to get clean.

2. Pull everything off your bed and storm around bedroom spraying any kind of air freshener you like. I like Hawaiian air or something by Fabreze but you may find another more to your taste.

3. *^ spray shirt and vest with flower air freshener. Notice that your husband would now stink like a girl and this would get him a nice bashing at the office. Don’t care at the moment.

4. Take bedding downtown to get washed

5. Come home to find that the room stinks of flowers and underarms now.

6. Find the vest stinks of flowers and underarms

7. Yell at husband again for putting vest and shirt on clean bed.

8. **^ take vest apart. To do this you need to remove all the plates inside the vest, there are typically two big ones and one or two smaller ones. Big ones unzip out of the vest. The small one is covering the heart area. Notice the plates go back in the SAME way they came out, facing the same way and everything.

9. Don’t care how to put the thing back because the plates are getting stuck and you can’t really touch anything out of fear of the stink getting on you.

10. Put vest shell in washer on warm/cold setting, use lots of detergent, and maybe a little fabric softener. Some good detergent would be baking soda, and vinegar. Or whatever you like that smells good.

11. Hang vest shell to dry. If it still stinks a little spray it with normal Fabreze or something and give up!

12. *If undershirt is not white, make him wash it, alone with nothing else so the stink cannot get on anything else in the house. Or put it in the trash!

13. When vest is drying wash the undershirt alone in HOT/HOT water, using massive amounts of detergent, bleach, and fabric softener.

14. Dry shirt on HOT setting also. This is believed to help kill any leftover stink. This may or may not be true.

15. Yell once more. This time mostly at the vest for being so hard to put back together.

16. Put vest on to see which way it goes

17. Put the plates back into the vest.

18. Worry that you got them in wrong and now something is going to happen and the vest will not work like it should

19. Come to peace with that thought. Remember he left his vest ON THE BED!

20. Go get bedding from downtown and stop by the seamstress so she can stitch onto the bedding: “IF YOU PUT YOUR STINKY NASTY VEST ON HERE AGAIN YOU WILL HAVE YOUR ROOM MOVED TO THE GARAGE “also stop by to get a quote from the movers.

21. ** Take yourself to the spa to relax and unwind from the work out of washing a Kevlar Vest.


This post is dedicated to ANN T.  Check out her blog for some deep thinking @ Ann T. Hathaway

Ten things I have learned now that T-rex is a Police Officer:

1. How to wash a Kevlar vest (more on that in a later post)

2. How to press a uniform, with the little lines down the pants

3. How to get “stink” out of an undershirt

4. How to do small home repairs like: wash the A/c out, flip a breaker, unclog a sink, and fix a cabinet

5. How to change oil in a vehicle. Thank you Mr. K, I never felt so icky!

6. How to pie a corner (or something like that. I guess I didn’t really learn that, as much as I was told about it. ... I tend to tune T-rex out when he goes into “cop talk”)

7. How to keep food hot for a few hours, and reheat it to perfection

8. An officer with a new truck, gun, or other “tool” is just like a kid with a new toy

9. Secret squirrel shit is not really code for pulling up road kill

10. Guys really do look hot in uniform. Maybe it’s the belt. But yeah. . .

How to deal with pests like a cop

We are being overrun. The cats are taking over! Before I go on, you must know I love cats, but am deadly allergic to them. How I miss my little cat, they are great pets. They are only great when pets!


A black cat (I know creepy, right?) has given birth to several kittens this summer. The kittens are not nice! They hiss. They dump over my trash at 2 am keeping me up until 4! Yes, not all the strange sounds are my icemaker! When talking to T-rex about this issue we were able to come up with a few ideas. Here is a handy check list for anyone wanting to get rid of a pest like a cop would.

1. Write up a warrant for the pests’ arrest. Post it near the trash can in the hope that they will turn themselves in.

2. Yell “Police” when you see said pest in the hope that they will stop what they are doing.

3. Secure the perimeter. Including, but not limited to, new fencing, traps made out of tuna and wire, and new lights.

4. Evaluate the situation for force. How many cats/pests? Do they have teeth or claws that could be deadly? Is the pests’ presence potentially harmful to a residence?

5. Buy a silencer for B.B. Gun. When you find this does NOT work go to step 6.

6. Read up on subsonic ammo. Gather all the intelligence you need to be able to apply this technique effectively and without getting caught.

7. Wife washes Ammo. (Really need I say more?)

8. Admit defeat and call animal control. . . . Usually it takes about 3-4 weeks to reach this stage.

9. Brave the ego bashing as co-workers question why you called animal control rather than take care of said pest like “a man” and get good recommendations for subsonic rounds, and better B.B. guns.

So there you have it. How to take care of a pest like a cop. Now truth be told I just called animal control. I guess for some jobs you just need a professional.

A knock, two officers, and one ticked off wife

T-rex is on Part time for the Police Department, as well as the full time for the Sheriff’s Department. Needless to say I don’t always know where he is. Home, PD, SO, store, I get it mixed up a lot.

Late at night there was a knock on the door. It was a forceful knock, like whoever was knocking had some very important business, at 9pm. So I quickly ran upstairs, almost in a panic just from the knocking. I opened the door to see two Police Officers standing in my door way.

My first thought was that something happened to T-rex. My heart dropped and I could not get anything out. I asked if T-rex was in trouble. That’s all I could say.

Nope said the officers, they just wanted to get his radio for the new guy.

My face turned red as I realized that T-rex was home! He was playing games, and not hurt.

Darn officers should have CALLED! It’s a phone, learn to use it!



But that did get me thinking. I didn’t know how they would notify me if something ever happened to T-rex when he was at work. I remember the one call that I got from him. It started out like this: “Don’t worry babe” So I worried! He was fine, but still that was not a good way to find out some bad news.

Turns out they do send officers to notify the family. If it’s at the Sheriff’s office they send Sheriff J and Mighty Mouse. I am not sure how I feel about that. I talked with MRS. K, her husband was T-rex’s boss when he was in the Jail. MR. K is funny, I like him. She told me that she has already made it clear to Sheriff J and Mighty Mouse that she would not open the door if they came and just knocked on it. I don’t blame her. I asked if she would come with the officers if something ever happened to T-rex and she said she would. I don’t know but just knowing that she would be there if I needed her really helped me get past the fear of the door knocking. I think we all should have a plan in place. I hope no one ever gets that knock on the door. Or if you do it’s just so they can use a radio. Just make sure, if that is why they came to knock on your door, you give em a talking to. And your phone number!



This one is dedicated to Mrs. Deputy and all the Police wives out there. To read her blog go to “The Family Behind his Badge” also check out my blog list for more great blogs to read.

Going to Jail!

Today my kids asked if they could go to jail. Just like that. Nothing else added, no clarification, just “Can we go to jail?”

My first reaction was, sure, we can go to jail. Followed by a quick look around to see who may have overheard this very strange request by a 6 year old.



I must have been in Jr High School when I noticed that being a child of Law Enforcement officer made you different from other children. My dad got a job working as a corrections officer for the small town jail when I was in 6th grade. I was still new to the town, so I didn’t know my way around very well. I asked the teacher to give me directions to where my dad worked after the science fair that year. It went something like this:

Me: “Mrs. Teach where is the jail? I am supposed to meet my dad there”

(Now keep in mind we are new to this town, no one really knows much about us yet)

Mrs. Teach: horrified, shocked, and stunned “Why do you need to go the jail? Does your mom know? Oh I am so sorry! I had no idea!”

Me: very confused “Um I told him I would walk there after the science fair because my mom couldn’t pick me up.”

Mrs. Teach: “Oh you poor dear, I can take you home if you need me too”

Me: “No my dad said he can take me home.”

A few moments of silence, it took me a moment to get that she thought my dad was IN jail!

Me: “He’s a jailer there; he gets off work in 30 minutes”

Mrs. Teach: red faced “Ohh! I thought. . . .I’m sorry . . . Its three blocks that way then turn on 12th”

Me: “thanks”



I got a kick out of it in 6th grade! My dad told me I needed to start with him being a corrections officer, and then ask where the jail was. I guess on some level it embarrassed him. He didn’t want people to think he was a criminal in jail. I never did understand that until my own children talked about going to jail like it was no big deal. We do it all the time. The truth is we are there a lot to see T-Rex and it has become a second home in some ways.

So it’s off to jail we go. The bystanders with their looks of shame, shock, and disgust can just go about thinking what they want. Chances are they will see T-Rex in his professional role soon enough.

Potato Chip Tactics

www.taquitos.net/im/sn/Stax-Pizza.jpg

My mom and T-rex have an issue. There is war in my home. There is war at my mom’s house. I don’t think this war will ever end. I don’t even know who started it anymore.

A little back story first. My dad was a corrections officer, and like most corrections officers taught his wife some of the stuff he learned. My mom also worked for a prison as a teacher for a few years. This combined experience helps her with tactical maneuvers and such.

T-rex is like most cops and eager to show off when given the chance. So you can see how getting these two in a “war” could be a bad idea.

One of the two of them, and I am inclined to believe that it was my own dear mother, popped the other one with a Lays potato chip can. The rest is history.

You see there is something about an empty Lays potato chip can that is very interesting. When the lid is on you can “Pop” the lid off by applying pressure to the can.The lid will then fly off hitting your target in the head, back, or in the case of “battle at backyard pool party”, a little finger, causing a great deal of pain. The sound alone is enough to get a person to jump. Now, I am not here to promote the Lays potato chips, but their cans are nice.

This war has gone on for some time now. When it first started my mom was able to get the cans of chips at her local store, now she cannot. T-rex can still get them at our local store. It seems he has an unfair advantage with this.

I am stuck in the middle here. I am ashamed to say that I have stock piled chip cans for my mom. I have helped T-rex set up my own mother! I am torn, am I good wife or a good daughter? I think I should start taking bribe money to get the chips.

Wish us luck as “battle at the birthday party” is just around the corner. I am sure a battle plan is already in place for both sides, gear is getting shipped out, ammo is being prepared, a lot of chips are being eaten.

*Picture taken from link listed below picture, I am in no way connected to said picture or link, just hate to use anothers "work".

Don't worry babe. . .

When T-rex first started his career in law enforcement he was a corrections officer for the Sheriff’s department. My dad was also a corrections officer for a Sheriff’s department. I guess that is why I didn’t worry too much about T-rex on the job. Well, at first anyway.

Within a month, maybe it was two.  He was working nights when the road guys brought in a “combative client” and T-rex went out to help. The guy was really messed up and he kicked out a window of the patrol car. Glass went flying into T-rex’s face. All of this I learned after T-rex called on his way to the hospital.

“Hey babe, don’t worry but. . . .I am going to the hospital. . . I got glass kicked in my face. I think I am okay”


I don’t know but I really think they need to make the officers take a class called “Don’t be a jerk, learn how to call your wife without making her worry for hours”


It would teach them things like:

Never start with “don’t worry”

Never continue with “I am in the hospital”

Start with “Hey babe, I love you, got some stuff going on at work. . . ect.”

If things are really hard, just jump in with the situation that happened, and what’s going on now.

Don’t wait until the end of the conversation to say you are okay.

Say you are okay often

Make a joke if you can

NEVER START WITH DON’T WORRY BUT. . . (Yes this is listed twice!!)



I think this class should be taken before day one. Sadly some of them just don’t get it . . . when you say “Don’t worry” It makes people worry more!

Fair

I have seen this quote online in many different places, so I don’t know who first posted it. To whomever it was thank you!




"Fair? You want me to be fair? Listen, fair is a place where you go to ride on rides, eat cotton candy and corn dogs, and step in monkey poop."



Our county fair is coming up soon. T-rex will miss it because he is going to be at training. Years before this, he had to work the fair booth, or some of the silly things us people do at fairs. 4-H is big around here. If you don’t know what that is, look it up.



One of his first years he worked mutton bustin. I am not so sure what that is, but something which includes chasing animals, and kids running around in mud. I know there is mud... lots of mud.... and poo...lots of poo too. I only know that much, because I had to wash his uniform and boots when he got home.



That was the first time, and not the only time I made T-rex undress in the doorway to avoid tracking “work” into the house. Eww.



For some reason now, T-rex tends to avoid the animals when we go to the fair. I guess running in poo will do that to a person.



By the sound of things, it is only going to get worse. Working in the middle of nowhere, going to places even further away from nowhere, he is bound to bring back lots of mud and “stuff.”



I think I might move his room out to the garage

YEAH, RIGHT!

There are shirts with the saying “I feel safe at night, I sleep with a cop” printed on them. Yeah, right!



First, if your LEO husband only works days then you are one lucky lady, and I don’t really want to hear it.


Second, if you have a cop who has real cop hours he is likely to be on nights every few months at the least. You will be sleeping alone at some point.


Third, it really, really bites when you are sleeping alone and your husband is working nights (read when the bad people come out).


Last night was a night alone for me. It was not a nice peaceful night. First there was the big boom sound from behind the house. Following that I was a mess. Every little sound made me jump. I was afraid to move out of my room. I sat up in bed with the cell phone for hours talking with other wives who have been there before. And although most nights we do great, there are times when sleep deprivation, panic, worry, and stress all just collapse on the human mind at once.


I did learn a few things during my sleepless night however. First, thinking of waking your 6 year old to check out a sound, get a flashlight, or even run down stairs to get daddy’s go bag is normal. . Acting on those thoughts is not normal, is in fact dangerous, and might be a sign you need to seek professional help.
Second, making a list of other cops to call is normal, talking yourself out of calling them because you think you are just being a baby is also normal.
Third, when you find out that most of the evil sounds are just your icemaker don’t panic!
 And last, getting mad at T-rex really felt good.


So if you are a lucky wife who does get to have a normal bedtime with her cop husband, good for you, I don’t care! I would feel much safer if I slept with T-rex’s off duty! And the lights on. . . .

Sheriff J.

Out to Get me!


I don’t know much about Sheriff J, other than the fact that he is out to get me! I am sure deep down he is a nice man. . maybe even a good man. I know he is a good sheriff. But he is out to get me!

I had to go get T-rex’s Check. I already don’t like the idea of going to jail, and it is his work place so I feel out of place there. But I was off to get his check. If I don’t pick it up who knows when we will get it.

Shyly I walk in and smile at the secretary. She is a nice lady. She buzzes me in and I ask which box is T-rex’s.

Then Sheriff J walks in! He does not even have to say anything, he just looks at me and I feel like I am going to cry. He reminds me of my dad. I just know he knows I am guilty of something.



He knows I didn’t buckle in! He knows I left the kids in the car, didn’t use my turn signal, parked in his parking place, it doesn’t matter that he never uses it, its marked sheriff’s office only. I lied last year! I cursed at a teacher in high school! He is going to ground me! Take away my phone!



I start to sweat. I can’t breath. I shake a little as I pull out T-rex’s check from his box. Sheriff J looks at me. I am about to lose it right there.

“You can’t take his check. You’ll spend it all on makeup. You have to have him sign a paper for that.” Sheriff J seems so serious I don’t know what to say, or if I should just put it back and walk away.

“Um. . Well . .He said I could. I did before. You were not here. It was nice.” Yeah I like to put my foot in my mouth at random times.

“Oh. Just don’t spend it all on makeup and girly stuff.” Then he walks away. I must have been ghostly pale. The secretary smiles at me and then starts to laugh. I mumble something about how he makes me feel guilty then say goodbye.

Safe in the car I calm down enough to not burst into tears. Sheriff J was messing with me I realize. I make a plan to get back at him. I just know he has made it a personal goal of his to mess with me now. Sadly I think he will win. I don’t want to get grounded!

Military Time

T-rex has an odd fascination with military time. He says that’s what they use at work. I don’t understand it! We use real time at home.


I go to check his phone it says 19:34. I have no clue what that means. Okay, I can learn, I am his wife; I guess I can get past his little flaws like not knowing real time.

But then he uses this same foreign time system when talking to my mother. He tells her that he will be reporting back at 17:30. She has no clue what that is. What follows is another round of strange cop talk that no one really understands. Part of me thinks that T-rex does not even understand all that he is saying. I am sure he does. But must he really talk in 10-code when at home? What is a 10-24 anyway? I tend to tune him out when gets in cop talk. I think it has helped me manage better. But wouldn’t it be faster to just say whatever he wants to say in normal language? I mean then I wouldn’t have to decode everything.

 I think I am going to make up a code around the house, then see if he can get it. When he says “What? Why are you talking like that?” I am just going to smile and say “Well that’s what we use at home.”

I am not going to eat that!

Can we send picky eaters to jail? Cuff em? Ticket it them? Grounding does not seem to be a severe enough punishment!



I slave over the hot stove, cooking the best breakfast I can think of for my husband before he goes back to the academy. I make homemade tortillas. Some eggs and sausage and a little Oj. A really good breakfast, a lot better than the cold cereal we normally have. Keep in mind that I HATE to cook. If I could we would eat leftover pizza for breakfast every day.

So there I am all proud of myself, and the great breakfast I have made. I give a full plate to each child as I admire my great work.

All at once, at the same time they yell “I am not going to eat that!”

Chaos ensues as the whining grows. Some of the whining is from me. Nothing brings a mom back to earth as quickly as children.

I think this just reinforces my dislike for cooking.

Sadly after the first bite I too want some marshmallow, chocolate, sugar cereal.

Happy Birthday, My kid is teaching yours how to shoot.

A good friend, and a strong supporter of me and my husband recently had her birthday. Diane is a great gal and I like her a lot. I even told T-rex that I want her to be my friend. Yeah I felt like I was back in 1st grade. But I would so share my Barbie with her.

She invited us to her birthday party at the park. I was lucky to be able to pull T-rex out of the house on his day off, but I was really looking forward to going. And the kids, Lilly, Dino, and Rae could use a little outside play time.

We show up late, which might be a good thing for me, as all the other people are busy and I don’t have that odd “Hi my name is Yellow” stage to deal with. Still some odd parts, it’s always hard when T-rex sees an ex-client. The exchange is the same “You staying out of trouble?” T-Rex tries so hard to be friendly, but the client will almost always mumble something then find a reason to go. We are the party killers.

Diane has a 4 year old son. He is cute, outgoing, Dinos age and just right for her. She found him before the car is even  turned off, and quickly the two become great friends. This is all fine and well. I want her to have friends.

I am afraid we are passing on our party killing skills. Within 10 minutes Dino is teaching Dian's 4 year old the proper way to shoot someone (with an old paper towel roll), and crime scene investigation. I am in shock! Horrified! My child is holding the “gun”  in her left hand! How is she going to learn to shoot the right way if she is holding it in the wrong hand?!

It wasn’t until later when Diane asks what the kids are up to that I realize something might not be right other than the fact my poor child does not know how to hold a gun the right way. Normal kids don’t play like they are shooting each other. And although Dino is too young to shoot a gun, or even know how to hold one the right way, she does know a lot about them. Maybe she knows too much.

Diane is great; she says it might be a good skill to learn how to shoot. She smiles at me and makes me feel at home again. This is a hard thing for some people to do. I am happy I have friends in my life who support my husband as much as I do.

Happy Birthday Diane. Hope you have a great year!

Hey babe, come see this!

Is it only my husband who yells across the room for his wife to drop what she is doing to go look at some video posted online?  Oh I can’t stand it!  He makes it seem like I have to stop everything all at once.  “Hey babe, come check this out!”  He makes it sound like it’s the best video ever posted like it’s so cool and nothing is better.

Turns out it is yet ANOTHER training video he watched, this one you get to see some of the blood splatter.  Great times! 

“Hey Yellow you got to see this!”  It is another video with some guy getting shoot.

“Oh I really want to show you this, it is important” Some sales pitch for a new clipboard he wants!

“Babe I want to show you what we learned this week” This one gets me interested because I do care what he is learning about.  NOPE it autopsy photos in a nice slide show with some sweat music.

I think men should not be able to view videos online anymore. There has to be a parent block I can add to the computer. 

I don’t care that T-rex is a cop and gets some sick kick out of the training videos, I don’t want to see a blown up head in low def before my coffee!

I am in Human Resource!

   T-rex gets to say that he is a cop.  What pride he gets in that.  Even if many older people don't like cops every kids loves a cop! I can't think of one boy who didn't wish to be a cop when he got older.  It's a good job. When he fills out the online pages that ask "Occupation" He gets to mark LAW or something just as prestigious sounding. 

Yeah good for him!

I get to mark unemployed, not working, or homemaker. Yes, I think a homemaker is a good job, but it kind of sounds like I am a bum.  I know I am doing the best for my family and kids by staying at home right now. How else would T-rex get to be a cop?  But I want a "real" job!

So that's it.  I am no longer going to mark unemployed!  I am now in human resource.  I have made 3 humans, someday they will be a great resource!  How many other human resource people can say that! 


So here is to all the other lady's who are in human resource with me!  Enjoy your time making good humans,  someday they will be a great resource.  It is hard work to make a human, and then to make a human that is going to be a contributing member of society!  No other project takes 18+ years to complete.

SO TRUE!

A group on Facebook asked the question :what is the best part about being a cop?

Many people chimed in on the brotherhood. Which is an okay answer. I am sure it is a good part of the job. But is that really the BEST part about being a Cop?

The best answer was : Free Ammunition!

Yes mister ammo lover I think you are right!

Now my own little question: what is the best part about being a cop's wife?

For me its the pride T-rex has in himself. And I cannot lie, he looks good in a uniform ;)

Single, yet never alone.

I thought that it would be easy with T-rex gone. I mean he never really was home anyway working construction and then corrections officer the whole time we have been married. At first he was gone a lot, and then he was gone odd hours.

But this academy stuff is HARD! M-f he is two hours away at "basic training." Friday nights he runs home as fast as he can to make it before the kids go to bed. Sunday he is off again. Truly it stinks saying goodbye every week. The kids take it hard. We will not go into how much I miss him.

It seems like random things like to stop working when he is gone. The Heat wave has been a killer and our Air Conditioner thought it would be a good time to stop working, right after it got dark, but is still 90 degrees outside! T-rex took his flashlight with him. I don't know anything about Air Conditioners. In panic mode I called my dad, who knows just enough to fix anything with duck tape.

My dad tells me to check outside and there should be a switch near the house in a junction box. Or something like that! I didn't understand half of what he said. I looked outside and saw dark. I got mad all over again that T-rex took the flashlight.

I stormed back inside, tripping in the dark to see that it was getting even hotter! My dad had me flip some switchy thing and then I had to let him go, he hates when girls cry, it annoys him (yeah way to show the love Dad).

Still thinking it was something wrong outside I Texted the only other person I knew who would have a flashlight. Lion, a Police officer for the city who T-rex works with.

Our conversation went like this:

Me: Are you working? My A/c is out and I don't have a flashlight!
Lion: Be there in a few.
Me: THANK YOU!!!!!!
Lion: N E time

Took me a few to understand N E time was code for anytime. I guess I need to work on my text talk?

Lion came right over. He checked outside everything looked okay in the dark. Then when we came back inside the house was cooler. It was working! My dad was right when he told me to flip the switch thing in the basement. I again was near tears. Lion made the one mistake anyone could make in this situation and asked if I was okay. The flood gates opened and I cried. I spilled out every little stress and how I missed T-rex and I can't do this, you know the whole drama.

Lion stayed for a few and talked to me about the job, the academy, and random gossip from the small town. Soon he had to go and I felt guilty about pulling him off the job to help with a dumb A/c that I already fixed.

Two days later the Air Conditioner went out again. This time I thought I would be smart and self sufficient and just flip the switch myself. buzzz snap! The switch flipped right back to off. The sound was scary enough to make me run back upstairs. I thought I would try it again. buzz crack snap! Again it flipped right back to off and I was starting to fear I would blow up the house!

Without another thought I texted Lion again. He was over quickly and before the sun went down. The neighbors were also outside. We chatted about what could be wrong with it. Lion hosed it out. I didn't know that the thing outside could be washed off. I guess it does rain. Lets just call that a "moment of brain fail." The neighbors said they had a window unit I could use if I needed it. Once the thing outside was washed down Lion went and flipped the switch, with me a safe distance behind. IT WORKED!

So yeah all this long story about an Air conditioner, but really that's not what is important. As I was saying goodbye to Lion and the neighbor, who came to see if we got it working or not, I noticed that although I feel like a single parent right now (the married single it has been called) I am not really alone. T-rex has gained a whole bunch of brothers, and just like brothers they are going to do what they can to help his family when he is gone. In many ways I just got some new brothers too. Although I would hate to go out to the bar with any of them, and the family BBQ might not really be a family environment! I don't feel so alone anymore. I know that if something happens I can always ask for help. Even if it is something dumb.

T-rex says that someday he will be going out to help a mom and wife with something as silly as an Air Conditioner. Its just part of the job to take care of each other. I am happy that is in the job description.

The feelings of a Police wife.

I can’t help but to feel this overwhelming pride for my husband and what he does each and every day. He gets dressed, complete with the “tools of the trade”, kissing his children goodbye and then he is gone. I never know when he will be home, the calendar says 6pm, but I know better. When I call to wish him a good day, or share the great news about our daughters dance he rushes off in a hurried voice. If he calls the news is short, a quick notice that he will be late. Even in the safety of our own home his phone buzzes to life and he is out the door before I can understand what just happened. Movie night is postponed yet again. Others are always put first, as he sees the worst of the worst.

My husband you see is a police officer.

The pride I feel gets lost in the crowed. An angry voice yells to his wife and children, “you’re that cop . . .” The job is never done, the risk never gone. Each and every day he packs his bags as if it were his last his kiss his children goodbye. The hours are long, and many holidays are missed. Skipping his turkey diner, so another family can be defended against a threat. The weeks are long when days go by before I see my dear husband awake and alive.

We say its just a job, and do our best to leave “cop talk” out the door. But when family calls to announce their visit my reply is often the same, “that would be great but he is at work.” A family outing is quickly cut short by a person who does not see that behind the badge he is just a man. He carries a fear for our safety just as much as we fear for his.

He is not off fighting in some foreign land, for the battle is just next door. There is no safe place from danger. Our home no longer a haven, but a ready station.

Training is long, more time away from family. He is given all the tools to do the job well. There is no training for his family at home in the dark wishing he could just call. There is no support for a wife of three missing her husband as he goes out the door with little notice at all. The sleepless nights become normal as he spends them on the streets. The feeling of being alone when talking your child to school for the first day stings as fathers proudly kiss their children goodbye. Taking your children to jail so they can show dad their Halloween costumes only to find he is out on a call becomes a holiday tradition for years.

But what hurts the most is the lack of support for my husband and his family. It’s a high risk job for him and us, the hours are long, the weeks even longer. The threat of danger always present, even when it’s just in the back of our minds. He deserves more respect from people who care about him. He is a great man, doing a job most will never fully understand.

Ammo in the Dryer!

Although I have been "lucky" so far and have not found a bullet in the dryer I have found many a shell in the dryer. You would think we worked for an ammunition store! Nope. Hubby ~ T-rex~ is a police officer. The strange things we have had to deal with are clearly only going to get worse as we deal with the changes in his career. Yet it is all so exciting.

In the last five years he has gone from a corrections officer ~ Jailer~ To joining the Police Department part time, getting on the Tac Team (small town swat) and now T-rex is off to the full time academy to join the ranks of deputy. Kind of was hard to see him as "top dog" in the jail and then rookie all over again for the road deputy. But its also nice. I always tell him that when the waters start to get stale they start to stink. I am happy that the waters are moving in his job again.

Yet all the silly and stupid and even scary cop stuff has me, well, not in the best of moods about it. Getting called out right before bed because some Jerk can't just be a good guy is a bummer. I almost took it personal. Like why is this jerk being like this at this time of night. . doesn't he know we were going to bed?

But mostly all the new gear is a little much. I got to see T-rex's office for the first time the other day, and although no ammo in the dryer there was random ammo in his desk! Big and small, just laying around. I asked one of the other guys if this was normal, he smiled and say "yes, and ammo in just about every other place you can think!" Ohh joy. I think I am going to hang dry his pants just be safe.