The Other Woman

There is another woman in my husband's life.

She demands his love and affection. 

She will settle for nothing less than his undivided love and attention.

She climbs into our bed and hogs the sheets.

She thinks she is a princess and the world is her oyester.

She is just over three feet tall and has such a pitch to her voice when she doesn't get what she wants when she wants it, the paint could peel right off the walls.

I've seen it happen.

Little stinker. Flirting gets her everywhere.

This is GG, the million dollar blanket. I wish they came in King size. Best. Blanket. Ever. (Most people call them the little giraffe blanket because of the giraffe on the tag. I call it the million dollar blanket because it costs nearly that. My cousin bought it for her. God bless you Melissa.)

She often says something like, "My finger isn't hungry so I CAN'T eat dinner."

Oh? Ok then.

And then she smiles, because she knows she got him, hook line and sinker.

Oh how she adores her daddy.

 

He's pretty fond of her too. By pretty fond I mean over the moon in love.

I can't blame him.

Cinnamon and sugar crumbs. Because Daddy ran out and bought donut holes. It's what his little girl wanted.

  

I would like to take this opportunity to say that my husband has lost 42 pounds and now has a jawline, which I find to be highly, highly attractive and sexy. Just sayin'.

I think she tolerates him. Just kidding. She eats this stuff up.

Oh, another one? Ok, if you must.

I think I'm framing this one.

Remember When Wednesdays

I just reached 30 followers. On Remember When Wednesday no less. I have a hard time believing that there are 30 people in this world who care to read what I write, but thank you. When I started blogging I got giddy over 3, one of which was my husband who doesn't actually read this blog, so I don't think he really counts. However, as more people have found my blog, made comments and invited me into their (online) lives, I've been very blessed. So thanks for following.

I've been having a bit of writers block the last little bit. I thought having something to focus on to write about, like Remember When Wednesday, would force my creative juices to keep flowing but creativity seems to be a little elusive so I hope you'll bear with me as I struggle through this!

This morning Momma Fargo posted a link to Momma's Pixie Dreams. Their 16 month old daughter was just diagnosed with cancer. That shook me up. I hate cancer; I wish there were a stronger word to describe how much I hate it. Resent, abhor, repulse...none really seem to describe how much I really truly feel about cancer.

When I was 15 my best friend died from cancer. I hated it when they said he had it, I hated it when they said it had returned after they thought it went away, and I really hated it the night he was so doped up on medication he could hardly remember me and the following morning when he died. I hated what it did to his family, I hated how it ripped a hole in the world, I hated how life goes on no matter who dies. I hated drinking guava mango juice because it had been his favorite, I hated not knowing what to say to his parents, I hated feeling empty and helpless. I hated when his family took a long vacation after he passed, I hated that I didn't like his other best friend so I couldn't talk to him, I hated going to the zoo because we'd gone there for his birthday once and the whole place reminded me of him. I hated being a teenager and instead of enjoying being 15 I was dealing with real life, I hated that I was so messed up I had to miss school and go to work with my mom.

15 years later the only thing I don't hate is that his sister is one of my dearest friends and his parents are still a part of my life. I love that they all love my husband. I love that his sister's son is just a few months older than my youngest so we spend a lot of time together. I love that we have each other and we can remember together. I love that our husbands are both police officers so we understand each other on a level we never thought we would. I love that we go to the same church so we can pray together and focus on what is most important. I love that she laughs and has joy and that time, Love and the Lord have erased many of her hurts and her own hate. I love that losing her brother has made her a stronger mother and wife, more fierce than she would have been. I love that she is tender toward those who are going through their own loss and that she remains vulnerable to those around her.

All that hate I dealt with ... and now all this love.

On this Remember When Wednesday I want to remember that love and hope are stronger than hate. That God is stronger than cancer. That there will be a time when all pain will be erased; although the journey and the way it ends may not be the way we want, the result can always be Healing and Hope, especially for these little ones.

I will remember to pray for Momma Pixie's little Monkey and for all those who are struggling.

I hope you will too.

Love this family.

In Honor of National Infertility Awareness Week

Kate over at Busted Plumbing has been talking a lot about National Infertility Awareness Week. It has been a good read for me, with lots of tears. Last night I dreamed about Kate (if you're reading this, you were a cartoon); probably because I have been praying for her a LOT. I don't even know her. In my reality, she's literally a cartoon; a funny, sarcastic, witty cartoon. Yesterday she posted that she's pregnant, but after 5 years trying to conceive and four miscarriages she is naturally apprehensive. I've been praying for her ever since.

Her struggle is personal for me as conceiving of our first two children didn't come easy. All said and done it was only 17 months between the two of them, but those 17 months were filled with a lot of disappointments, questions and tears.
I watched my sister and her husband struggle with infertility for three years - before my sister finally conceived their daughter she was no longer eating wheat, dairy, sugar or red meats; all in an effort to get her body to do what it was supposed to do.
Currently I am watching one of my dearest friends struggle with secondary infertility. Her son just turned two and he is a joy. He was conceived immediately with only the fun kind of effort put into it. For over a year they have been waiting for the magic to happen again, but it has eluded them. Every milestone they celebrate with their son is shadowed with the knowledge that his "firsts" may be their "lasts".
Another dear friend and her husband adopted four children and suffered multiple miscarriages before she conceived and delivered her first biological child.
These stories are not unique. Unfortunately we all know someone who is currently infertile or who has struggled with infertility. Take a moment and head over to Busted Plumbing to see what Kate has to say on the issue. Then stop by resolve.org to see how you can get involved in helping to find a cure for infertility and how you can support those you love who are living through this struggle.

Learning some lessons

For our son J's fifth birthday we decided to surpirse our three oldest kids with a trip to the Great Wolf Lodge. We had never been and thought it would be a nice little getaway - plus they offer a law enforcement discount so we couldn't say no! If you have one in your area and you haven't gone yet, GO! We all really enjoyed ourselves and will most certainly be going back.
While there I learned quite a few life lessons; such as 24 oz. of canned beer is 24 oz. too many; pay the extra 28 cents for the bottle. Or never buy food from a restaraunt at a resort unless I like the feeling of being totally taken advantage of. Or puppets that pop out of stumps are as creepy to adults as they are to children. I kept making a mental list of each lesson I was taught and really couldn't wait to get home and jot them all down. You, of course, will get to be the beneficiary's of my great wisdom, although I only am sharing a few, which is probably a greater benefit to you than if I shared them all.

Please to enjoy ...

Secrets of Life

as taught to me by my stay at the Great Wolf Lodge

by Mama Hen

Secret: My middle children are cautious.
Life Lesson Learned: Spend a little bit of money on a small trip before spending a lot of money on a larger trip. Thankfully we were able to take our children to this fabulous resort for not so much money. We learned that our middle two children are weenies fearful cautious and are perfectly content spending hour upon hour in six inches of water and avoiding any form of slide, even if it is only 18 inches off the ground. I'm glad we didn't spring for the $3000 Disneyland trip quite yet.

Secret: Not all tattoos are created equal.
Life Lesson Learned: Maybe tattos aren't as cool as I always thought they were.

Secret: White bathing suits are a not a good idea. Ever. The End.
Life Lesson Learned: I like when there's a little left to the imagination.

Secret: Apparently not everyone agrees with my definition of "bikini ready body".
Life Lesson: I guess not everyone feels the need to have a flat stomach when they put on a bikini. Or that they should shave their upper thighs ... or, um, other areas that are generally considered "bikini ready". But they should ... they really really should. Not everyone should wear a bikini. They really really shouldn't. And hey, I've had four kids. I don't live under any illusion that I should be excluded from this category.

Secret: Some women have beards. And moustaches.
Life Lesson: I will age gracefully. If that means electrolosis, waxing and shaving ... even my face ... then so be it. And if for some crazy reason I forget that women shouldn't have facial hair, I hope my friends (and husband) will remind me.

Secret: Teenagers are the same now as they were 10 (ok ... 15) years ago when I was one.
Life Lesson: Teenage lifeguards are really good at checking out other teenagers in bathing suits, checking the pool for dead bodies and saying 'go' when it is safe to take your turn down a waterslide. Teenage lifeguards are not so good at watching for children who are drowning but not quite dead yet, hiding their disgust over hairy chests and making sure children don't pummel each other in the kiddie pool. Therefore, I will play the over protective Mother part well and keep an eye on my own kids, thank you very much. Besides, it feels good to be the first face your daughter sees when you save her from certain drowning in a wave pool. (...and back to the kiddie pool we go...)

Secret: White wife beater tank tops don't cover very much. Ew.
Life Lesson: Ok, no life lesson here. Just a basic truth. Don't wear wife beaters. Especially if you plan on getting them wet. The end.

Not So Secret: My husband values his family.
Life Lesson: Don't take him for granted. My husband is proud of his children ... and he's proud of me. He's willing to sit on a stationary jet ski for six hours just so his little girl will be happy and his middle son can have someone to shoot water at. He's willing to let a bucket holding 1000 gallons water dump over his head so that his oldest son can see it really isn't "that bad". He's willing to drive to Dairy Queen and get his wife a peanut buster parfait because "it's needed." He gives me all sorts of warm fuzzies and it is so important that I let him know how much that means to me.

Normal kids. Right?

Spring

Welcome Spring!

Anyone see the resemblance to Benjamin Franklin??

**Hint: It's in the hair**

Seriously. No wonder this girl gets away with so much. 

He wants to be Indiana Jones when he grows up. I just want to kiss him right now.

This boy ...

Once he didn't want me to kiss him at school. It broke my heart. Moments like this more than make up for moments like that.

It's so nice when they play together so well! And no, this didn't end too badly. Just a few tears after the tumble...and then he was right back on! 

What the sunshine is really all about.

I cannot come up with a good enough caption. This captures all the fun and misery of being 20 months old, don't you think?

I love me so dirty summertime (er...springtime) feet.

The Life of a Police Wife

Last night I discovered that my new washer has a cool little "Delay Start" button. I was very excited. It's the little things, you know? So I set the washer to start around 6 a.m. I figured I would be awake and that it would give me a jump start on my chores for the day.

I woke up before 6 a.m. (Unhappy sigh) Having children has ruined my sleep habits forever. So I got up and started a pot of coffee. And my washer clicked on. And then I sighed a happy sigh. Because it's the little things, remember? But then I heard a racket in the washer. Clink clink CLANK. Ugh. My first thought was that Officer Hottie hadn't removed his belt buckle, or belt for that matter, from his jeans. I paused the cycle (another feature I love) opened the door and began sorting the sopping wet mess of clothing. I realized I was washing a shirt that had a little metal clasp thing-y. It was, of course, my shirt. Oh well. I shoved everything back into the washer, unpaused it, and settled back into bed with my coffee and Bible.

That shirt is so loud. It's going to wake the kids up. Ugh. I wish it were a belt buckle. Then it wouldn't be my own danged fault. Double ugh.

The racket woke the kids up. To their credit they stayed in bed until the first number on the clock was a seven. So it was quiet-ish for me, minus the noisy clothing in the washer, so I decided it was a good start to the morning after all. We had leftover waffles (thanks Baby!) so I started popping them in the toaster.

"MOM!" screams Snuggles. "LOOK!"

Oh. Well. Ok, then. That explains it. At least my guilt over wearing shirts with metal clasp thing-y's was erased.

The life of a police wife. Bet you didn't expect this much excitement, did ya?

I am getting into photography and for Christmas Officer Hottie bought me a new camera. I love it. Just recently (very very recently) I got brave enough to take it off the automatic setting and try being a little creative. I have a long way to go but I'm having fun.

My attempt at shallow depth of field. Don't ask me what that means.

Another attempt at shallow depth of field. This is in our neighbors yard. I saw it while dealing with this...

They found a worm and were watching it try to escape. I don't know why the worm was freaking out...I mean, really. What is so terrifying about forty fingers trying to help you get home? Chill out dude.

My apologies that this post has nothing to do with being married to a police officer. Except OH knew what kind of camera to get me because of the cameras they use at crime scenes. I totally just tied it all together.