Monday, February 28, 2011


Well my mom said (Ya know any time I start out this way it turns into some self promotion :) My mom is great like that) that I should promote my shirts some more. I was all like, ugh, I just sale them on CafĂ© Press, and they are not that good; I don’t even have one yet! Well that will be corrected this week trust me! Anyway I thought I would point out that they are there. Part of the small profit from the shirts will be going to NPWA, an organization that supports Police wives during the good and the bad. So there, mom, I told people about the shirts. .when is your order going to be placed?

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Cops should be nicer!

My dear friend Pam wrote a great blog post about a dinner party, and a friend of hers who thought if Cops were nicer their jobs would be easier. I loved how Pam was open with how she jumped into defense mode.

But I think Cops should be nicer! Or at least that is a thought I have when I see MR. Jerk cop walking around like he is all great. And we all have seen that cop. I think there is at least two on every shift, one is the rookie who may not be a total jerk but still thinks every law ever written is a reason to write a ticket. The other is the total jerk, who will mess around with people for no other reason than he has no reason not to.

Now it is true cops are just people and like other people some are nice, and some are mean. BUT, I do sit here and think we spend so much time and money on physical training of the officers, training to keep their bodies safe, but we don’t spend near enough training on the mental health of the officers. I mean sure they are all told there is someone to talk to if they really need it. But it comes down to a lot of BS. If an officer takes the mental health provided by the department they are quickly labeled. If an officer says something silly or dumb that can be taken the wrong way they can be out of work for a long time.

Oh yes I can see it now, some touchy-feely- man retreat for the guys to get in touch with their feelings. Okay so that is not going to happen! But something to really let the guys know they don’t have to take out their bad day on the punk going too fast. Letting the guys know it is okay that some of the stuff you see affects you, get help, and make it right. But I don’t know it is easy for me as the wife to sit back here and yell at people who say cops are mean. . . Then I yell at T-rex for giving out too many tickets.

But go check Pam out at :

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

How to understand your husband when he is talking about work

In 5 easy steps you too can understand your husband as easily as Yellow understands T-rex!

1. Pay attention to the real words he uses. They will be rare mostly in between words like 10-16 and “Hot call.”

2. Smile a lot and say things like “Oh”

3. Put together enough of the real words to understand if it was a good day or a bad day

4. Sympathize accordingly.

5. Play the cartoons in your head.

You may be asking how this helps you understand what your husband is talking about. The truth is that it does not help you understand, but helps you cope. Enjoy the cartoons!

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

She told on me!

Today was the painful dentist day. I dislike this day for so many reasons.

Lilly and Dino had their appointments first. They did great. Rae even got to watch as they cleaned Lilly’s teeth. Both of them got to put a smile sticker on the no cavities chart. I was so happy for them! New tooth brushes seem to be enough to get the kids to chill out and not whine.

Later in the afternoon Rae and I had to go back for our appointment. I let Rae go first because she was eager to get it done. She did great! But each time she looked like she wanted to get out of that chair I got more afraid of MY cleaning. I was a mess by the time it was my turn. Still the ever great mother that I am I played it cool long enough to set Rae up with some toys. It didn’t take long for me to freak out. I have to give myself some credit here, I didn’t cry, or yell, or anything but whine. .. a lot. .

First the X-rays which freak me out, then the cleaning, and the whole time the nice lady is all like “You need to floss!” and “If you came here more than once every 5 years it would not be so bad!” And I am all like “mughuershaughrah” because she has a big sharp thing that is scrapping the outer layers of my teeth off jammed in my mouth.

It only took about 25 minutes, and I hated every second of it. The big sucker thing that feels like it is going to pull my lungs out of my chest, the gritty feeling, the taste of metal and blood. Yeah it was bad. I wanted to cry. Rae was playing with books and dolls and talking with anyone who would say hello. (So, everyone because she is too cute!)

What is it about the dentist that makes people (maybe just me) feel so exposed? Yeah the lie that you floss every day does not work. I can’t help but feel that they know I brushed really extra good just five minutes before getting there so they wouldn’t think my mouth was some nasty thing that never gets cleaned, never mind the fact that I go to bed at least once a week without brushing. I hate the dentist. I hate the fear that I am the one they talk about after hours “oh yeah we had a bad one today! She was about to cry, and it was nasty in there!” Yeah, and then the gal cleaning my teeth is trying to be nice and helpful, but the truth is I hate floss almost as much as I hate the dentist.

But I made it out okay! I didn’t cry or move too much and my teeth hurt but they also feel really clean, and I love that feeling! Right now they just hurt. Then I see the actual dentist, and he lightly pokes at stuff and says “well, I have already seen your X-rays and you have a good sized cavity between two teeth, you know floss. . . .” I cut him off right there; I don’t need to hear about floss, I need a moment to panic! I need a moment to think of something to say to get out of him filling. I got nothing.

I hate to get cavities filled. I have had two, well three but one was in a baby tooth and they just pulled that tooth out, half the tooth was gone it was so bad but I never felt the cavity. Anyway I don’t recall much about the first one getting fixed, and the second one this dentist did. I have to say he did a great job. But I have a fear of that numbing stuff they stick you with. I hate shoots and I don’t care what anyone says that stuff only makes me hurt more. So he fixed it without the numbing stuff, it was a nice small cavity took like 5 minutes and felt fine. This cavity is bigger and between teeth, he does not think he can fix it without the numbing stuff. I hate the dentist.

Then it was time to set up the next appointment, he was very cool by not telling Rae that I had a cavity, I didn’t want the kids to know. I had to break the news to them the right way. So I let them all know on our way home from school. I tell them that they did great today, and their teeth are nice and healthy but mommy has to go back because I don’t floss. (Hey if anyone is going to give anyone a guilt trip it is going to be me to my kids. . .got it dentists of the world?!) They gave the normal response, “can we have ice-cream?” And I thought it was all good.

We got home; I chatted with T-rex, and got Lilly set to do her homework when she busted out “Hey daddy! Mommy has a cavity!” She told on me! She giggled and smiled, and said she was going to get me in trouble for not telling him the bad thing that happened to me today. That is a lot like what happened to her yesterday when she got in trouble at school and her teacher called me before she told me what happened. She got in trouble for not telling me what happened right way. I think she is getting too smart for her own good. Or maybe for my good!

I go in Monday to get my poor tooth fixed, and maybe some more advice on floss and getting wisdom teeth taken out, but that is a whine for another time.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

How to: Pack a gear bag

No matter if the cop in your life calls it a gear bag, or go bag, or tactical bag, at one point you might be asked to get one, pack one, or set one up. Here are a few steps to help you along the way.

1. Pick out a nice bag. Note: your old pink book bag will not work, any purse you have around will not work, anything pink, purple, bright green or sparkly will not work.

2. First it is tempting to settle on a fairly “gender neutral” old gym duffle bag. When presenting this to your cop, full of random ammo, a set of cuffS, and a granola bar do not be sad when he laughs at you. This is a normal response.

3. Try again! This time find a bag, any bag, that is black or camouflage depending on its intended use. Again fill it full of random “cop crap.”

4. Discover that although the cop in your life cannot get dressed in appropriate cloths unless it is his uniform they will know that whatever bag you picked out was wrong. If you first got a camouflage bag go back and get a black one, and if you got a black one don’t add green paint, just get a camouflage bag (although painting a black gear bag camouflage makes for a great Christmas present from the kids, so hold on to that)

5. Get him a catalog with cop stuff in it and have him pick out the bag he wants as long as he can stick within the budget. . Check his math!

Now that you have the bag it is time to fill the bag!

6. Gather bottled water, ammo, granola bars, gloves, a hat, some change, and a towel. Stuff the bag full of the things you got, and zip it up to hide in the closet.

7. Come home to find the bag empted out on the bed and your cop looking at cop supply stores online.

8. After much debate about why he does not need another (#47) ammo holder thing (magazine) give him a budget and let him go wild! (as wild as one can go for under $60.00)

9. When all the new gear comes in stuff it into the bag.

10. Come home to find everything dumped out on the bed again, only this time there is packaging to pick up too!

11. After questioning your cop on the new mess, discover that he thinks he needs a bigger bag, one with more space and pockets.

12. At this point please repeat steps 1-5

Now that the cop has the correct bag and all of the things he thinks he will need, go over the bag with him. Here are a few things to check for.

13. Ask why he didn’t pack some water.

14. Put the granola bars back into his bag

15. Question his choice on ammo placement; amount, and variety, really how many different guns can one man shoot at a time?

16. Declare that the gear bag is not going to take up your night stand, dresser, or closet space and banish it to his patrol vehicle.

17. When he argues that he doesn’t need it in the vehicle all the time, ask him why they call it a go bag anyway. The reason he will likely give only reinforces that it needs to stay in the vehicle, he will not understand this simple logic.

18. As revenge put a pink heart sticker on it when you trip over it in the closet. He will never see the bag, because it’s not in his car when he needs it, in a year or so he will pull the bag out and find it nicely decorated!

And that is how you pack a gear bag for your cop. Don’t let the many steeps stress you out. If it seems too overwhelming start with a pink purse full of .22 rounds and candy bars, your cop will give up and do it on his own after that!

Monday, February 14, 2011

Card and Candy Day!

I started Dating T-rex in high school. Yep we are high school sweet hearts, only it didn’t start out so sweet. We were “just friends” for a good year or so. Then he graduated and moved away, I dated another boy, T-rex came home from the big city and one day it hit me that I was going to marry him so I should start to date him. And that is how we started dating. Not so romantic for him I am sure.

Me: “Hey I am going to marry you so we should start to date I guess.”

T-rex: “Um. . . . . . . . . . . . .okay? . . . . . . . .um”

Yeah. Well we were young and dumb. T-rex was working as a uniform delivery guy or something the first Valentine’s Day we had together. We were broke and he was staying at his parents’ house because they were off doing road construction. I thought it would be a great idea to make him dinner for the special occasion. I got candles, a nice blanket for a picnic, a card, and all that. Then I started to make spaghetti. I was so eager to get everything done that I started way too early. I have to remind you that I was still in high school; I didn’t cook much if at all. So I make his great dinner, and T-rex is still not home. I was so smart! I just kept the noodles in some warm water so they would still be hot when he got home. Oh he got home about an hour later. The noodles were no longer noodles. It was like sauce over some mashed potatoes with no flavor.

And yet T-rex sat there and ate every bite of it. I knew that was when I made the right choice. Every year I make him spaghetti for Valentine’s Day. Every year he says it’s the best ever. Some years we are able to get each other little gifts. Truth is T-rex is GREAT at getting me Valentine’s gifts. He cannot get himself dressed on his days off but he can pick out the best jewelry. This year he got me a cute little ring with a pink sapphire and ‘mom’ written in the silver over the ring. So far I have made him cards with the kids, will cook him dinner (spaghetti) and have gotten him a video game, or real I have let him go pick out a video game!

So although I think this is just another day to sell cards and candy I also think it is great to look back and see how far you have come, like learning how to make spaghetti.

I love you T-rex!

Friday, February 11, 2011

Oh just read it!

So, there is this guy Jon Acuff, who I don’t know, but I read his blog so you know that makes us like BFFS and all. Anyway Jon writes about Stuff Christians Like. Only not always, I am sure he has made some “Christians” mad, mostly the Christians who don’t want to change anything, or question their faith and stuff, I know, I am, a times, one of those Christians. It’s a hard place to be. So anyway, other than he makes me look at my faith, push it to new levels, and forces me to seek God more, he is a great guy . . . like I said we are BFFs and all that.

Anyway one of his posts, which I cannot for the life of me recall which one, I read it right before or after I read the one about getting prideful over silly things, and some guy commented on how he was prideful over the fact that he was so humble, great comment dude! (Really this blog is funny!) Where was I? Oh yes, the post I want to talk about is how Christians get all crazy when they (erm me) find a book a great book. Christians are all like “This book changed my life!” And “This book is so great, I found GOD!” And half the time the book is not really all that great, it is just a book and stuff. Well I guess I have a lot of books that changed my life. . I love to read, and I will share my strange reading habits with anyone who is willing to listen and not judge too much.

So after I read his post and got to thinking about how sometimes I do force my views on people in the way of unwanted book reviews I made up my mind to try and stop that. Then I found “The most life changing book ever!” Oh yeah it is that great! And even the greatest part is that you can get it free!! At least as I am writing this at midnight on some random day you can get it free, but if you can’t for whatever reason go pay for it!

Oh the book title and what it is about? But I was not going to force my books on people anymore.

Who am I kidding?!

The book is called Imaginary Jesus. And before someone goes all “that just sounds wrong, and anti God” on me let me explain. I was like that at first; a little offended someone would title a book that! How dare they?! Um well sadly the name fit just fine, and it applies to most people. But you will not understand that fully until you read the book.

Okay so this guy Matt, I read his blog now too so we are like BFFs and all that good stuff right. He wrote this book and it is great. It’s about this guy who is eating at this hippy place with his Jesus, you know because this story is like sci-fi eats memoir. So anyway Pete comes up to this guy and tells him his Jesus is not real, then they get a talking donkey travel to the past, talk about Jesus, run into some more imaginary Jesus, then King James Jesus steals the donkey and says “Your ass is mine.” Then I called my mom to tell her to get this book because it’s great, and maybe telling her about the ass part was not the best part to share but it was great! I loved it.

Okay there is a lot more to the story but here is the thing to get out of it; we all have a picture of who Jesus is/was/will be/etc. And that picture is not always right; we should keep seeking out the real Jesus. We need to let go of some of our fake ideas that we forced onto God so he fits into our life, and push to know the real Jesus. In a Q&A with Matt he said he didn’t really think we can fully know the real Jesus in this life, but our goals should always be to move closer to God and the Real Jesus (something like that I don’t copy and paste stuff). The best part was how Matt shows what some of our imaginary Jesus are like. A favorite of mine, and others, is Magic 8 ball Jesus. We ask a question of Jesus and then just sit back and see what he tells us. Sometimes we get what we want and other times we are told “ask again later.” I think I like this one the best because I am also great friends with magic 8 ball Jesus. But there are more, and we all seem to have one or more in our lives . . . even people who are not Christian, even atheists.

I don’t think it is all bad having an imaginary Jesus, when I was little I would literally see Jesus in blue Hawaiian shorts and a surf board just begging the pastor to stop talking and let his people go outside to play! I was 8. He was my best friend. I think it was good for me. It helped me put a face to God, to understand a love that I didn’t before, and it was a stone to get me going up the right path to truly know Jesus. But once I was older I had to drop that idea of who Jesus is . . . okay he still keeps the blue shorts!

So, this book might not be for everyone. I have to be honest and say there were a few parts where I thought this book was going to go against everything I think is true, but it doesn’t. And it does not try and tell you what Jesus would think or say (at least not the real Jesus).

Because I am a Christian and this is what we do I am telling you “this is the best book ever! It changed my life!” And truly if nothing else it got me thinking about how I view Jesus. Even none Christians can think about that, the answer may shock you.

Oh and to set it right, I don’t really know Jon or Matt, I do read their blogs. I have not been paid, or asked to write this review, or post, or whatever.

Go check the guys out at Jon:


Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Finding balance in shift work

I have a love/hate relationship with T-rex’s shifts. There are things I like, and things I don’t like. Mostly there are things I don’t like. But a look at each shift and it is clear I have a favorite, at least in theory.

Day shift: 6am-6pm~

I don’t much like this shift. For one, I end up getting up around 5:30 when he is on this shift and well that just doesn’t work for me. Oh by “up” I just mean I am not sleeping, not that I am up out of bed or moving or anything like that. Then T-rex cannot help get the kids off to school. I like it when he can take Lilly to school and let me sleep in for just a little longer. Like 8 am longer! Then there is T-rex trying to get into bed around 9 or 10pm. Well that just doesn’t work because I have homework I try and do after the kids are in bed around 7 or 8. So see this becomes an issue. I also am sadly addicted to my e-reader and I have a few more pages in this book to get done!

T-rex loves this shift, its day! He likes that he gets home (most days) in time to have dinner with the family (another thing I don’t like our table only holds 4 people). He likes that he can spend time with the kids, and be “normal” (no matter how far away from normal he really is). He says he gets more sleep on this shift or at least more normal sleep when I let him go to bed on time.

“Swing” Or Splits 12 noon-12 midnight:

I like this one the most I think. He is up in the am and can help me with the kids (we tend to take turns) and he can stop for dinner now some nights so I still see him then. I also don’t go to be bed until around midnight so his getting home so late is no big deal for me. I get to spend the morning with him, and that is great because usually the kids are not fighting that much and I am not running around getting everyone ready until around 11, when he is running around getting ready. It just works out great for me!

He hates it. T-rex says he never gets any sleep on this shift, they have two guys out during this time for a reason, and he feels he doesn’t see us that much. I think he sees us the most on this shift because sadly it matches my schedule the most. The one I love the most he does not like at all.

Then there is nights. 6pm -6 am. Two days of work in one!

This is what we are on right now. I hate it. I love it. I am sick of dealing with it! He sleeps all day, but he is up when it is time to take Lilly to school! I don’t see him for about a week because there is no point in getting back to normal for two days off (I still make him get back to normal for his weekends off). He gets a little grumpy when he does not get enough sleep. I get grumpy when I can’t sleep because he is not home.

He likes this shift because he typically gets 7 hours of sleep with this and if it looks like he is going to be really sleepy he can just sleep in a little more. He can still come home for dinner, and most of the silly crazy stuff is done with around 3am. But it is also nights and cold and he does not see the family much (which I hope is a negative of this shift!)

No matter what shift he is working on the hardest part is the adjustment. He changes shifts every month or so (I think they are changing to 6 weeks). So every month or about we deal with a week of transition. And not just for him but the kids too. That is another love/hate thing I got going on. I would rather him switch it up every 6 weeks then for him to be stuck on nights for a year or more like some of the guys I know. I mean I really feel for families who try to function and have one person on nights and the other on days. It can be done, but it is a pain in the butt and there is too much stress with that kind of shift.

The best part is when I get sick of one thing it will change, you know right after I learn to love it.

Monday, February 7, 2011

3 things they never told me

The truth is there are more than 3 things they never told me. They are everyone, and the things are about being married to a cop. But 3 are enough to go over today.

1. Cops smell BAD.

Like really bad. Yes gun powder smells great! But unless it is range day your cop is going to come home smelling bad. In T-rex’s case it has been cow, mud, Kevlar, man stink, chili, and other random odors. We had to get T-rex his own room so I didn’t have the bedroom smelling like Kevlar anymore. All of his gear is gone, and I have a room again! Which brings me to number two!

2. They have more gear than you have shoes!

Well, I am not big on shoes but you get the idea. Hi belt does hold more than my diaper bag ever did! From winter dress uniforms, to polo uniforms, guns to knives, and lights like crazy. T-rex needed another room to hold all of his stuff! He makes Barbie looks under-accessorized.

3. Not only is he a cop, but we are a cop’s family.

Too many parts of his job can and have slipped into our family life. We have to fight to keep “normal” and that is not normal. Still we hear of police families being targeted just because they are related to an officer. The children will be looked at differently by some kids just because their father is a cop, and I have run into some strange remarks at work. (But some of the people I work with know T-rex in a professional way). It is hard to adjust to all the things that a cop’s life brings. For some reason I thought it would affect him, not so much me and the kids. I wish someone would have told me that I was in danger too just because of what he does. No I don’t think about it often. But it is there. It is not like things are “oh so bad and hard we are a cop’s family” It’s more like “What? Normal people don’t have to deal with this!” Then again if there was going to be a family that ran a little differently than the rest, ours is a good one for the job.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Um. . . maybe you shouldn’t be so dumb?!

I live in a small town . .yes I make a point of saying this because well, really small towns are so different from even normal sized towns.

We have one grocery store; it is a small grocery store. Like Wal-Mart is a flippin castle in comparison. I have started to hate going to the grocery store. I hate it so much I am more than willing to drive to the next town over just to get milk. The reason? People are dumb.

I had just made it around the store, stopped to get milk, avoided the dumb gal who I just can’t stand during the whole trip (in a store this small that is a hard thing to do!) Yet there she was in the checkout line right next to mine. I had wished, even prayed that she would not turn around to notice me. I failed.

DG (Dumb Girl): What is your husband’s last name?

Me: Superman.

DG: “that is what I thought. He pulled me over the other day.”

Me: “Um. . .well, maybe you should not do stuff that is illegal and he would not have a reason to pull you over?”

DG: “ugh” she then storms off and I feel like I have done my good deed for the day.

Yet this kind of thing is happening more and more. It has gotten so bad that I was tempted to ask T-rex to not pull over anyone I work with, and to not be mean to any of the mothers I stand with when picking up the kids.

Yet I know that is dumb. He has his job to do and I know he does it well. Sure he might be a little harder than people around here are used to. But he is not going to play the small town politics ever again. There was one case where he was pulled into play the “that is my sister’s best friend’s aunt” game to let someone off a lot easier than they should have been. I don’t think anything has ever ticked him off more. Really I don’t blame him. Small town or big town it is hard to deal with the politics of police work. Truly he is lucky his department is not that bad, it is the people in the town who feel like they should get a free ride because they know me.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

He is a hero and other lies

Lie #1: He is a hero

I have a strong dislike for the word Hero. It is not the word itself, or even what it means, but rather the way people apply it to people who are not Heroes. Now don’t get me wrong I think our officers are Heroes, as in the collective whole of the police force. I think it is a heroic profession. But I have only run into a very small group of people who I would individually call a Hero. And as great of a cop as T-rex is, I just can’t see myself calling him a hero. He isn’t any different or any better than the other officers he works with, all just doing his or her job. All a part of the hero system that is law enforcement.

Lie #2: You will get a divorce if you are married to a cop.

Now don’t get me wrong, I think a judge would understand if I hurt T-rex in his sleep. A judge might even give me a medal for putting up with T-rex this long! But being married to a cop is not a divorce guarantee. True some studies say that officers are more likely to divorce. True there is more stress being married to a cop. (Or being a cop!) But that does not mean divorce is in the future. It takes work and understanding but a happy relationship is just as plausible as if the marriage was between a teacher and a banker.

Lie #3: He could get shoot.

Well this is not so much a lie as a “who cares?” Yes he can get shoot, he is looking for bad people, and bad people do bad things. But I could get hurt working at the fast food place, walking down a dark street, or going to the mall. Bad things happen, but unlike you he has a vest on, and a gun. Sounds to me that he is ahead of the game.

Lie #4: You must worry all the time.

Yes, and No. There are times where I worry, and it is a worry few others outside of Law Enforcement would understand. When he is working late, when he has not called, when all week we hear about bad things and officers getting hurt, then something happens close to home I worry. When he is called out for the SWAT team to deal with a standoff and he does not call or text for 5 hours I worry. (Yes I live in the movies, it should take 27 minutes to deal with a hostage situation). But for the most part I don’t worry about him at work. He is just going off to do his job. I am sure if you were a banker and 3 banks in your area were just held up you might start to worry to, but after that it’s just a job.

Lie #5 You must get sick of all the people hitting on him, or talking bad about cops:

Again yes and No. First people don’t hit on him all the time, and to the gals who do I am sure he doesn’t know what you are doing most of the time, and if he does catch on well it kind of makes his day. I mean who doesn’t like a little attention. .. But it takes a lot to get T-rex’s. For all the people who talk bad about cops, sometimes they have a good point. I am not going to defend all cops just because my husband is one. I am however not going to put up with cop hating, racist remarks, sexism or anything of the like. So if you have an issue with a person who is a cop fine, deal with it. If you have an issue with all cops then you my dear friend are a dumb jerk and we are no longer going to have any reason to talk, my issue is solved.

Yeah there are more lies we cops wives deal with, many we tell each other. I can say I am one to whine the most when I am worried about T-rex, but understand that is because I am not used to worrying about him, even with his job. I guess reading so many posts about how bad it is to be married to a cop got me a little ticked today. It is not bad, there is nothing supper special we have to do, no added stress that can’t be dealt with and there sure as heck is no reason for us cop wives to live under added stress we make! Sure the job of a cop’s wife is hard, and there are a lot of wives out there who can’t do it. There is a stress the general public does not know, there is a strange degree of worry that will never go away. We have to face the evil head on. .. but after that we are just doing what needs to be done.

Okay after I posted this I noticed that the last part is all like "what?"  So here we go again. YES being married to a cop has its stress and its worry.  IT is different from other job, and other wives don't always understand. BUT, different doesn't make it greater, or harder, or anything other than Different.  It is not "oh poor me I am married to a cop"  Its. . wow this is different how do I deal with it?  There that seems better.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

If you put a light on it evil can't hide

With a small push from my very supportive mother I write this. This is not something I want to write about. I really wanted this blog to be about T-rex and his crazy job and how being a wife to someone with this crazy job is like nothing else out there. We don’t get enough support (our husbands need more support too!).

But this blog brought some this out and for the sake of my sanity and because I know it matters I am going to write about it.

I will warn you now it is long.

I got my first job when I was thirteen years old. I saved most of my money, and the summer before my 15th birthday I had saved enough money to fly to Hawaii and stay with my aunt and uncle for a semester of school. My parents, who trusted family, and saw how great an opportunity this was, were very supportive of everything. I remember just thinking “I get to get out of this small dumb town!” I didn’t worry about missing my parents too much, I was never one for homesickness, and I didn’t worry about missing friends, as I didn’t like most people. My boyfriend and I were not really in a relationship as much as still JR high dating. There was nothing keeping me in my small Kansas town and such an appeal to go to Hawaii.

My parents seemed to make things hard for me. Because my Aunt was in the Army I needed a military ID to do anything. I could not even go to the gas station and get a pack of gum by myself anymore because my Aunt did not have custody of me. My parents were not going to budge on that either. I was so mad at that. Yet, it turned out to be the best thing they could have done for me.

Getting into all the graphic details is still hard, look at the first police report made a few years later and all you will is a lot of sarcasm, pain, and anger . . . not very many details. The details are hard to think about still. I will give that, perhaps I am not “healed” or maybe I am to a point where it does not take over my life, I now have the power to think about it or not . . .I like not.

It started nearly right away, before I was 15. My uncle who I shall call JerkBag from here on out, started by pushing up against me. A lot of the rest is a blur. Then one night the stress from the pressure to have sex with him became too much, my back hurt really bad, I could not sleep, and it was already past midnight. I remember crying in the hall way. That is when I wanted my parents, I wanted my safe bed where my mom left me alone, and my dad wouldn’t even do the wash because he had three girls. I grew up knowing how an adult male should treat a younger female, and this was FAR from it. I had a new respect for my dad and his “um, yeah you look nice” response.

But JerkBag did get up and rather than comfort me the way a person should he gave me a back rub. I knew in that moment the only way to get the love and support I needed was sexually. I guess that is why I stopped fighting so much. I didn’t really see that I could say no anymore.

The sexual abuse lasted for the rest of my time there about 4 months or more. I lived with a lot of guilt for never saying “No” But I have had to let that go. I was 14 when this started, millions of miles away from home, and I was manipulated. People like him can work on girls for a long time to get them to think that there is no option, or worse yet that it was the girl’s idea all along.

I am not a dumb person I noticed some of what was going on, but I was afraid to do anything about it. Where was I going to go? Who was going to keep me safe? My aunt was gone at some army training for much of this.

I got sent home when a small incident happened. I and a group of friends were staying over at a single guy’s house; he had night duty and needed a sitter for his daughter. I foolishly said I would go with my friends; we would all be safe if we were together. I did not count on them passing out so soon. I was also dumb to drink a beer. I was not drunk; I just want that down on paper, and mom if you are reading this. .it wasn’t beer it was soda pop! I guess that made me more afraid, or on edge or something. But he came and pushed up against me, rubbed me and I started to fear I was not able to get away. I went to the bathroom and cut myself like I had been doing to deal with the stress, and then he started it again, but the noise must have gotten a friend up, she does not remember, but she saved me that night.

That was enough to have my parents put me on the next flight home. I am not sure what all they knew but I still have mix feelings about what they did. It was not right to pull me away from my friends so fast. I felt like I had done something wrong, and I didn’t. Yet, I needed out of there, I needed out of there a week after I got there.

Ah the cutting, you caught that too. . . .It was just how I dealt with the stress. Yet even for a long time I was in trouble for it. My mom did not always deal with that in the best way. I would say she failed a few times before we got it right. I say we got it right because as much as she “failed” I know I didn’t help. This is not to put my mom down, or say she was a bad mom. . .NO, it is more of a here is what I have learned from everything that went on. If someone is cutting they are not bad, not always doing it for attention, don’t want a hall-mark ending, and didn’t tell you because of shame, guilt, fear and such. In the end it was my mom who helped me deal with it, stop, and now be strong enough to talk about it. Without my mom, I would not be here as strong as I am today. . . maybe we never failed but took the harder way to make us stronger.

****Anyway, what brings this all up again is I have found that my Aunt is looking for me again. For a long time I tried to not blame her, to try and stay friends with her, I was silly enough to even invite her to my wedding. But there was a point where I was no longer willing to act like nothing ever happened. I also would not let her blame me for what happened. Or live in denial any longer. So when I got sick of it and would not say it didn’t happen I lost a lot of family. I do still blame myself for my dad and his father not talking.

But she has gotten a hold of me in the past, and I am sure she has looked at this blog. Kind of creeps me out. And as odd and unlogical as it sounds my biggest fear in life is that she is going to try and take my kids away, that is another long psychological debate for later, but still a fear. Even after I have blocked her on everything, facebook, myspace, ect. She was still able to get pictures of my children. It was very upsetting, and why I don’t post anything on here. It is why I am yellow! When my Dad’s dad died my children were listed as his grandchildren and I was mad. . . I was very mad. My children were NOT his great-grand children. But again a rant for another time.

I wish I had some wise words to end on. Like “evil is as evil does” or something ya know. But really all I have is my life to live. I keep going no matter what. I am not damaged because of this, I am just who I am. I guess it is creepy that she is looking me up. But I will just keep doing what I can to move on.