Nine.

Today is our 9th anniversary. I was sitting at home, alone, having done half my workout before I realized, "Hey! I'm alone!" Officer Hottie is at work. I'm pretty sure this is our first anniversary he hasn't taken the day off. He did want to take it off but he waited too long and one of the gals from his crew is at refresher training so he couldn't. But his sergeant let him take tomorrow off so we'll still get lots of celebrating in. Although I want him home with me today I have lots of plans. Mostly they include turning up the music really loud and cleaning my house from top to bottom. It's just that with four kids this place gets turned upside down and I get so behind and it is rare that I am the only one home so I plan on taking full advantage...after I finish this post of course.

Since I'm thinking about the nine wonderful years I've spent married to Officer Hottie, I thought I would share a little bit about how our relationship began (because I'm sure you've just been dying to know...right? Right? Hello?)

The first time I ever saw OH I was working in a Bible bookstore. He had just returned from a stint in Hawaii with YWAM and was with his little sister. I only knew she was his little sister because he said to me, as I was ringing up his items, "I hate it when my mom makes me drag my sister with me." It was the first time in all my life that I remember realizing a guy wanted me to know he was single and that the girl with him wasn't an issue! He had a humongous beard and was wearing flip flops, in November, and a yellow beanie with braids. And when he walked away from my counter, I am not lying when I say I thought, "Wow, I could marry that man." And then I thought, "Weren't you paying attention to what he was wearing?! His hat had BRAIDS!" I tried to brush it off since I had no idea who he was. I'd never seen him before so I didn't know if I'd ever see him again. Soon after that, while attending classes at the local community college, I began talking with Kev, a frequent bookstore customer, and it just so happened that he and OH were good friends. Kev started bringing OH in to the bookstore with him on his almost daily visits, I realized later because he had a crush on the girl I worked with and didn't want to look like a stalker. OH would come in and look at CD's, or books; every once in awhile he'd chat with me. During a break at college one day, Kev started asking me questions about what kind of music I liked, what kind of movies I wanted to see and when I told him he would respond with "Oh! Officer Hottie really likes that band too!" or "Wow...OH has been talking about seeing that movie." (I should note that Kev would hate people thinking he actually referred to OH as 'Officer Hottie'. Sorry Kev...but not really.) One day I told him I'd been given tickets to see Audio Adrenaline (pretty sure I just aged myself there) and Kev told me I should ask OH to go with me. My response? "I don't ask guys out. Ever."
Funny thing...next time OH and Kev happened by the bookstore I was asked to see a movie. The conversation went something like this...


OH: You know what movie I've really been wanting to see?
Me: Which? (giggle giggle, hair flip)
OH: Scream 3 (I just aged myself again)
Me: Are you serious? I totally want to see that movie. I just told Kev that at school today! (clueless grin)
OH: Really? (Not so clueless grin.) Well...would you like to go see it? With me?
Me: Oh my gosh! Yes! (dang...too eager) I mean, yeah, sure, that would be fun.
OH: Cool.

And then no asking for my phone number. (More on that in a later post) So a week later when he came back into the bookstore and said, "Hey, we were supposed to see a movie, weren't we?" I decided I should just give him my phone number. Home and cell. Our first date was February 11, 2000. We went and had fried rice for lunch and then went to see Scream 3. Later OH told me he'd never seen any of the Scream movies and really could care less about seeing them ... And yes, I did take him to the Audio Adrenaline concert. It was awesome.

Less than a year later, February 3, 2001 we had a blip at the bottom of our wedding program ... I think Kev worked pretty hard to get that first date to happen.

So here we are, nine years of marriage later, and this is what I would like to say to my husband...

Thank you for nine wonderful years of marriage. Thank you for putting me first; above work, above life, even above the kids. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for being faithful to me. Thank you for working so hard to provide for me. Thank you for letting me stay home to raise our children. Thank you for turning on the fan every night. Thank you for loving the Lord; for serving Him and being faithful to being the man He has called you to be. You are the one I want. You make my heart race. You take my breath away. My stomach does flip flops when you walk in the door. It is an honor to be your wife, to stand by your side, to be the one you come home to. It is a pleasure to raise your children. I am proud of you, of your accomplishments, of the man you are. I want to be alone with you. I like you. I want to grow old with you. You still my favorite flavor...I cannot get enough.

Getting Swept Away

Officer Hottie and I are celebrating our ninth anniversary in a week. So, naturally, I've been thinking about our past and wondering how in the world we even got here? How did we go from flirting in the bookstore to raising four children together? What just happened?
He swept me off my feet. In every disgusting, romantic, gushy, over-the-top sense of word. He was such a gentleman. He didn't hold my hand or kiss me. He didn't even put his arm around me. He was very careful. It drove me almost to the edge of insanity. After we'd been dating a month or so he put a stereo into my truck. I'd been driving around with a boombox and a case full of DD batteries for a year. My cousin, Melissa, was so excited for me she jumped up and down, told him thank you and threw her arms around his neck. "You are so incredible!" she gushed. I was ticked. "Get your grubby little hands off my man! He hasn't even hugged me yet!" I didn't actually say that...not in front of Officer Hottie. But I'm pretty sure something like that came out later when she and I were alone. She apologized..."I thought for sure you guys had at least hugged by now. I never would have hugged him if I'd known." I knew that but I was jealous, not quite sure why I couldn't just get up the nerve to just give him a hug myself. I mean really...it was just a hug! His friend Kevin would tease us..."Oh, the looong fist." OH would give me a fist bump. Only it was more of a fist glue because his fist would touch mine and linger there for awhile. He told me on one of our dates that he didn't usually kiss a girl for a couple of months. I cursed him (quietly). Whatever. He was worth waiting for. Only, he teased me. A lot. He would put his nose to mine and close his eyes and just stay that way for a long time. I was NOT going to kiss him first so I put up with it. But I hated it. Actually I loved it. No, hated it. I think I loved/hated it.
One night we went to go visit a friend who was house sitting. We only stayed a few minutes before we left. As is customary I was talking. And talking. And not paying very close attention to where I was going. "Where are you going?!" OH asked as I walked right into some rose bushes. They were at knee height so I tripped, of course, and ripped my pants, of course, and looked like a total idiot. Of course. He picked me up off the ground, put his arms around me and asked if I was okay. I was better than okay. He had his arms around me. I put my arms around his waist and my face into his chest. My knees were killing me, and I was pretty sure I'd need to see a doctor about whatever had happened to my ankle but he needed to know how much I wanted that hug! When we finally started walking again he kept his arm around my waist, "Just in case" I fell again. So maybe he didn't sweep me off my feet, but he kept me on them, and sometimes I think that's better.

I kept the pants as a reminder of that first hug. My dear grandmother sewed them up for me. Also, I consider them "skinny" pants, so I keep them for motivation. But mostly for nostalgia.

The first kiss wasn't too far behind and I readily admit how thankful I am he threw his "two months" rule out the window. We were at my parent's house sitting at the dining room table. I'm the oldest of six and the only one, at the time, who wasn't living at home full time. My parent's house was small, much too small for eight people and in constant chaos. We had finished eating and my family was running around...finishing homework, cleaning the living room, going to the bathroom. For one brief second we were alone in the kitchen and he leaned over, grabbed me by my elbows, and pulled me in for the best first kiss I have ever experienced. I'm pretty sure there were fireworks going on. Or someone had flushed the toilet while someone else was in the shower...the power and passion of that kiss knocked my chair out from underneath me. That or I had a spastic, "OH MY GOD HE'S KISSING ME" moment and kicked it. I just about sat back down on nothing. Thankfully Officer Hottie had the foresight to be holding me by my arms. Protecting me from myself. Again. I wonder if he understood this was going to be a lifelong chore for him? If the hug had left me with any doubts as to my feelings for OH (which it didn't) the kiss blew them all away. It must have been all of five seconds because all of a sudden the kitchen was busy again and we were no longer alone. But my mom took one look at me and said, "He must have kissed you." Am I that transparent?
After nine years of marriage I often think of those two firsts...and how glad I am they were the last firsts I had to experience. Because nothing or no one could have topped them. And nine years later he's still sweeping me off my feet...or, more accurately, keeping me on them.

Academy Sweatpants

I am taking a huge step this week. It is painful and difficult but it is something Officer Hottie has been asking me to do for years and I haven't been able to. He has been patient, kind and loving but I know he has been getting more and more anxious as I refuse to do what he has asked of me. This week I am finally able to find the courage to put OH's academy sweats in the Goodwill bag. OH hates those sweats and he especially hates those sweats on me. They were big and unattractive on him so he wanted to toss them the minute he graduated. I adopted them. When I had them on I had to roll the waist band three or four times and even then the crotch hung almost to my knees. But oh! the comfort!! I always felt super skinny while wearing those things. For my birthday last year my dear friend bought me a new pair of sweats, from Target, that she insisted were way better. She said I wouldn't have to pull them up all the time and I wouldn't look like I'd just loaded up my pants. She was right. They fit me perfectly. Last month while shopping at Target I saw they had gone on clearance so I was able to buy another pair. The two new pair of sweats, that actually fit, coupled with the fact that I'm losing weight and that OH loathes the old ones on me, spurred me onto actually getting rid of them. I wonder how long it will take him to notice I'm not wearing them?
Honestly I'm surprised I've kept them for so long. I hated Officer Hottie's time in academy. It was the most difficult time I've had in our marriage to date; that includes four pregnancies, four sets of post-partum issues, 17 months of trying to get pregnant, threats of a lawsuit, career changes, deaths in the family and major financial stresses. Academy trumps them all. I know every family's experience with the academy is different. For me, OH's time there represents a season on loneliness and insecurity on my part that has been unrivaled by any other point in our marriage. I do not blame OH for this; I think a lot of that was my own fault for my refusal to "burden" him with what I was thinking and feeling. Officer Hottie was very occupied and he tried his best to not bring the stresses of the academy home. But in his attempt to keep his stress from bothering me he was a bit distant, he was definitely occupied, and the fact that he had friends I didn't know and was doing something that didn't include me, led to a lot of insecurity for me. It took me a long time to finally get the courage to tell OH what I was feeling. In my mind we had grown so far apart that we were on the verge on divorce. This took him by total surprise. Looking back I know I was being dramatic but unfortunately that is a routine I fall into rather easily. Even though this was a difficult time for me I learned so much from it. I learned the importance of communication, which I know sounds cliché, but I realized there are things that happen between us, and I say it's fine, and it isn't (I'm not really helping the typical female stereotype, am I?). OH was very gracious to me; when I finally opened up to him he didn't get angry or defensive or accuse me of insanity (all of which I feared). He simply asked me, "What do we do to fix it?" It really was the perfect response. I felt safe talking with him and it was a turning point in our relationship. It was the first time our marriage required real work and the first time I really understood what it meant to not give up. I don't know... maybe I kept those sweats as a subconscious reminder of what life had been like then, a reminder to never let my thoughts get the best of me?
Officer  Hottie accomplished so much in academy and I am ashamed that I wasted so much time dwelling on myself. I cannot describe the feeling of pride that washed over me when I pinned his badge on him during his graduation ceremony. Although I was very supportive of OH during this time I just didn't know how to handle the different circumstances and changes going on. I'm sure it prepared me for what life with a police officer can be like and because of that time when things at work cause him to become distant or distracted I know how to approach it with him. God was, and continues to be, gracious to me and I am thankful, nearly five years later, for how He has blessed OH's career and our marriage. It's pretty cool to think back on.
So, goodbye dear old sweatpants. I will hold onto the lessons you brought with you, but I will gladly exchange your saggy butt baggage for something a little more attractive. I know Officer Hottie will like that!

So it begins Pt 2

Once Officer Hottie got the call to do backgrounds he had a ton of paperwork to fill out. He had to come up with references and give the names, addresses and phone numbers for just about everyone he knew. When I would see someone at church or run into them while shopping it seemed almost inevitable they would say something to the effect of, "Oh, so I got a call from the City asking about OH!" It was exciting but really nervewrecking too. I was concerned something would come up from someone who didn't like him or his family and that would be it. His parent's had recently gone through a trial at their church with nasty accusations thrown at them and I was worried those accusations, although false, would somehow sway the City's view of him. On my way to the zoo with our kids one day, they finally called me. The call went differently than I had thought it would; the gal seemed a little scattered and unorganized. But, I had two kids, so I usually was too and it didn't concern me at all. The two most difficult questions she asked me were "What are OH's three best qualities?" and "What are his three worst?" It may sound cheesy, but narrowing down what I loved about Officer Hottie was really tough. I don't even know for sure what I said, but I do know I mentioned how important maintaining his integrity and character were. He just doesn't compromise, which is one of many things I adore about him. Coming up with something negative was even more difficult. In the whole time we'd know each other I had made a conscious effort to overlook those things I didn't like about him, and things I couldn't overlook I certainly didn't broadcast. Officer Hottie is aware of his weaknesses; I don't need to nit pick and broadcast what they are. I also have a strong sense of loyalty to him and a fierce sense of protection, so digging around to come up with something negative was totally against my own character. I think I finally said I didn't like that he played video games. How lame. I truly hope they saw how I really could find no wrong in him.
Whether they liked what I had to say or not, I don't know. But I do know he was then made a conditional offer of employment, dependent upon him passing a medical and psychological exam, which he did. Then he was in. He had the job. All we had to do now was wait until there was an opening in the academy. It was another three months before the City was able to find a spot for him. Those were a difficult three months; he was anxious to be done pushing mowers and changing light bulbs. Since we worked in the same building as the police department he would find every excuse he could to be over there chatting with the officers. He was getting tips and advice and everyday he grew more and more restless. I think he knew the finish line was just around the bend, but he couldn't see around the corner so it was hard for him to truly believe the end was close. He finally received an academy start date of October 5, 2005. We didn't know it then, but the real challenge lay ahead. But for the moment, we enjoyed the thrill of the accomplishment.

So it begins Pt 1

When Officer Hottie and I first started dating he told me he thought about being a police officer. That made me nervous. A little queasy actually. Then he said something I will never forget. He said, "I changed my mind though. Once I am married and have a family I feel that I have an obligation, a duty, to go home to them every night." A huge sense of relief filled me. At that point in our relationship I knew we were serious and would probably be getting married; from my perspective I had just been reassured that my husband would return home every night.
Fast forward a few years and we're married with one son and one child on the way. Hottie is frustrated. A lot. He doesn't take it out on me or our son, but I can tell something is off. One night, while he was bathing the dog, she pooped on him and something in him broke and he reacted by punching a wall. This was so out of character for him I could hardly believe what happened. Looking back I probably should have been frightened or worried, but my only concern was to understand what was going on. There was turmoil going on in the man that I loved and my heart was breaking for him. While we're laying in bed that night I asked him what the real issue was. He told me he hated our dog. I continued to pry, gently, and finally he told me what was happening to him; He felt worthless. He worked in Public Works. He pushed a lawnmower for a living. He was embarrassed by his profession. It was difficult for me to empathize and not be hurt. I wondered, did he not see the value in our marriage? In our son? In our home or cars or the fact his "meanial" job had provided for our family, enough so that I could stay at home and raise our kids? I prayed for the Lord to help me let go of these questions. This wasn't about me and my insecurities...it was about my husband and his. What I asked him next kind of surprised me, "Let's get you a job as a police officer." He looked at me with so much love and tenderness, and I knew the Lord had spoken through me and given my husband what he needed. Value. Worth. A sense of doing something. And God gave me peace. I not only wanted my husband to find what he needed in his profession, I wanted to be the one to support him, to be his cheerleader, to let him know he had my permission and my ok. It wasn't even difficult for me. It seemed to be the only decision and I have never looked back.
Officer Hottie applied to what seemed an infinite number of agencies after he did his testing. He received many letters telling him he was on their "list" and they would call him when his number was reached. He did get to interview a few places. His first oral board he had tennis shoes on. He wore his nicest slacks and shirt but had no dress shoes. I took a picture of him I thought he looked so cute. Once he was late for an oral board. He had written down the wrong location and couldn't find where he was supposed to go. He was mortified. I told him it wasn't meant to be. It was too far to commute anyway. He would place #5 among the applicants when they only had one spot open. It took months before we finally got the call we'd been praying for...one of the cities wanted to start doing backgrounds. We were over the moon. OH didn't want to get too excited, but I knew this was IT. I knew he was going to be starting his new career, his new profession and he was going to be the man he always wanted to be, the man I always saw him as. He was going to serve and protect and he was going to be a man in blue.