What do you do??

Momma Fargo just celebrated 22 years with her hubby. How cool is that? 22 years off her life sentence she said. Ha! I have this feeling (call me crazy) that she actually adores that man that's put up with her for so long (snicker snicker).

It seems marriage, or at least marriage long term and/or marriage done well, isn't such a common thing in police work. When Officer Hottie was in academy he was told that something like 80% of marriages don't survive the first five years after police academy. I don't know if that statistic is correct or not, but I know it sounds scary. I remember very clearly OH coming home, holding me and saying, "I will NOT let that happen to us." We're committed. We're in this for the long haul. Good or bad. Period. There's no escape plan, no exit route, no Plan B. It's us. Until death. That's it.

Honestly, I like it that way. OH and I come from a long line of committed marriages. All four sets of grandparents were only married to each other. Both of our parent's are still married to each other. Talk about stability.

I feel very strongly that marriage was created to be enjoyed; not tolerated. So I enjoy it. Very much. So far, it's my favorite. Even more than being a mom, or chocolate or sleeping in. Being a wife takes the cake. And although I would love to do an entire post on what Officer Hottie does to make sure that I enjoy being a wife so much, I will instead pose these questions:

How do you keep your marriage strong?
With all the failed marriages around, how do you keep it together?
With failure being an option for so many, how do you keep the temptation away?
What do YOU do to keep your husband coming home every night?
What does HE do to make sure you're home when he gets there?

(If you're missing me at all, or are just curious about our debt story, come check out Being Gently Led. It's where I'm at most the time now!)

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.

Mushy gushy

I really don't like going so many days between blog posts. I feel so out of the loop and out of practice. This was a busy weekend for us though so I hope you can put up with my musings for just a moment ...
I'll begin with Cop's Wives Club on Saturday. We had five people, including myself, which was a small group but it was perfect. We all were able to be part of the same conversation and share some more intimate prayer requests than we would have been able to had everyone made it. I actually felt a little dumb as I started crying when talking about mine but since the group was small I only felt loved and encouraged. I am so thankful for our group of wives that meet once a month. I wish that every police wife were able to feel as encouraged and I am every month. I am so thankful for where Hottie works; he gets along with his entire crew, he has a great schedule, his pay is great, his benefits are great, his stress level is minimal. I know life isn't this way for many police officers and by default, for their wives either. My fears and worries are based on what happens at other departments and from what I hear other wives go through. They aren't based in my own reality. And yet I need my group. I need a place where I can be real and be loved and be encouraged and where I know everyone gets me. And then on top of it all we can all come together and pray. And I know the God who created all of us, the God who protects our husbands and our marriages, hears us and is with us. That is a comfort I pray all spouses of law enforcement can experience. I know that's kind of whimsical and flowery ... but it's true.
I  had to miss the first meeting of the other Police Wives Club I was invited to as my baby brother, M2, proposed to fabulous English Sarah on Saturday and so Sunday was spent with friends and family celebrating. On Saturday night the happy couple came by our house to show off the ring and chat. They were so cute. Remember when you were first engaged? I remember I couldn't stop staring at my ring, or Hottie's face, and the smile that made my cheeks hurt. I imagine we looked a little something like this ...

I mean, how cute is this? How cute are they? They do have a tough road ahead as fabulous English Sarah must return to fabulous England and my cute American brother must start applying for visas and getting all of that sorted out. However, I am very much looking forward to having her as part of my family. When they left our house OH grabbed me and said, "I felt like you were so far away! I just wanted to grab you the whole time they were here!!" And THAT made my heart pitter patter. A lot. That man still wants me and looks at me the same way he did when he proposed. How cool is that?!

So all my random musings from the missed days of blogging basically point to Jesus loves me and Officer Hottie loves me. I just think that makes for a winning combo.

Excitement

Do you ever get excited when you're on the phone with your husband and he gets all police man with someone? Not excited like adrenaline worried excited, but excited like hot and bothered excited? Before you write this off as my trashy post of the week, bare with me ...
The other day, for example, Officer Hottie and I were chatting when all of a sudden I could feel him drifting. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about; it's like talking to him and then all of sudden I'm talking to ... myself. Usually when this happens I just pause and wait until he says, "Why aren't you talking anymore?" and then I know it's ok to continue. This time though I pause and I hear his phone shuffling around and then I hear him say, rather aggressively, "MOVE YOUR VEHICLE." And then I hear someone saying something back that I couldn't understand and Hottie says, "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'RE DOING, I TOLD YOU TO MOVE ... " And the rest I'll leave to your imagination. He actually ended up hanging up on me (that was the first time if you can believe it) and I found myself feeling strangely teenager-ish about the whole incident. It was a mixture of, "Gee, I'm so glad he never talks to me that way" and "Oh my gosh. That is so hot."
In real life, at home, Hottie is laid back. He's kind of the big teddy bear type. When he first started academy one of my friends said, "Oh my gosh. I can't imagine having him pull me over. I'd want to pinch his cheeks or something." I guess what I'm getting at is that he's not a "cop" in real life. I get to see him be the authority with our children, but even discipline is shrouded in kindness and love. Hearing him take charge, hearing him make someone listen to him, hearing him be the boss ... well, it just did something for me.
That's all I'm saying. There's just something about a man being a man. There's something about watching (or hearing) my man take charge. I can see why women are drawn to powerful men. I can also see why I am so thankful OH keeps "Work Hottie" and "Family Hottie" separate.
What about you? Have you witnessed your husband in action? Did it scare you or thrill you? Or both?

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.

What kind of police officer...

...stays in bed all day?

An undercover cop! Hyuk-hyuk.

Courtesy of Laffy Taffy.

We had a birthday party for my nephew today. Officer Hottie was working, of course, so he missed out on the "balloon room", piñata and birthday cake. As usual. He also missed my cousin's son's birthday party Saturday night. I really hate that he misses out on family functions. I know he hates missing out too. When I ran (literally...I was running) into church this morning, late (as usual) my friend Alison told me she'd been worrying about how she was going to make it to church by herself with one baby (due in April. Can't wait to meet you Samuel!) when I plopped my stuff down next to her before running back out to get the two I hadn't put in Sunday School yet, where they belonged. (Is that a run-on sentence? Sorry. Taking a breath now.) Alison is amazing and is going to do fine - you're going to do fine! - but I do hear that a lot. "How do you do it?" I do not know. I just do. That's how. I don't know any better? Is there another way to do it? Is there a secret someone hasn't shared with me? Is there a way to get around doing this? And while we're on secrets, does anyone want to tell me how to get anywhere, ever, on time with four children?
The truth is, I miss when OH isn't there. Life is so much easier when he is there to hold the baby and I can drink my coffee without having to figure out how to maneuver it into the diaper bag so it won't spill. It is nice to walk into church together and listen while teases me about how long it took me to pick out my outfit. That is not an admission of guilt in the whole 'getting there on time' dilemma. It sure is easier when he is at the birthday party to help get the kids' food on their plates and to help make sure they don't grab the new presents from the birthday boy. And to make sure the baby doesn't go into the balloon room and eat balloons.
I don't think I thought of these things when I signed up to be a police wife. I don't think I really put much thought into having to attend Thanksgiving on my own, not getting to sleep in on Mother's Day, not being able to celebrate Christmas on Christmas, having to get four kids ready (who decided we should have four kids anyway?) for church by myself on Sunday...
So what is it that bothers me? It's not really that he misses things, but it's that I miss him! I really like my husband and I want him to be there with me! All the time! I'm as bad as the kids. He worked a whopping three days in a row and I find that I am so eager to spend the next two with him by my side. A good sign I think as we're headed into our ninth year of wedded bliss.
And apparently I need him too. Because heaven forbid I make sure the baby isn't eating balloons in the balloon room.
I guess doing all the things I have to do by myself because Officer Hottie is working is good for me...it reminds me of how much I like him and need him. And now he's home...so I think I'm going to go tell him.

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!

The Weight is Over

Mike and I are overweight. Not morbidly obese overweight but we definitely need to lose a few. 
We have struggled with our weight since right after we got married. We were so thrilled to finally be living together and to be together all the time that we literally laid on the couch after work, made out and ate food. It was a really fun time. And when I had to buy a size 14 pair of pants I knew we had to do something. Maybe size 14 doesn't seem that big to some of you, but when I was used to wearing a size 8, it felt pretty giant. We had a trip to Mexico planned with some friends so I stuck a picture of an impossibly thin model on our bathroom mirror, joined Weight Watchers and got to it. I lost about 40 lbs. I did not look like the impossibly thin model, but I had to buy new size 6 pants, so I felt pretty good. That took me about three or four months to accomplish. Mike started the Atkins diet three weeks before we left for Mexico, dropped 30 lbs. and managed to keep it off for years. Are you kidding me? 
So then four babies and eight years later, here we are. After each baby I lost most, or all, of the weight, and even after our third I was down to a size I was very happy with, a weight that didn't bother me and I felt pretty cute in my clothes. After our fourth was born though, something changed. My motivation was gone! I did lose almost all of the weight, but after I stopped nursing the baby I gained 10 of it back. And now I'm in my 30's and I don't like what size I'm wearing and I look like I've had four kids. The biggest obstacle for me is that Mike and I are in a happy place. We are enjoying each other's company, our kids are a little more independent, Mike's job is great...there's nothing motivating us to get our act together. Since we have four young kids we don't have any major bathing-suit-wearing trips planned so my fear of being seen in one is sitting somewhere in my brain next to spring cleaning. It's a very dark dusty part of my mind that rarely gets a visit.
Mike has gained back the 30 pounds and then some. Where I need to lose 20ish pounds, Mike needs to lose around 40-50ish. On January 1 we started Weight Watchers again. I've been getting up early and letting Jillian Michaels kick my butt. It's been great. It has only been one week but I lost four pounds and Mike lost five. It was a very encouraging start and I truly hope we can keep our momentum up.
Mike's biggest challenge will be being at work. They are all friends and they eat lunch together everyday ("Like a family," he says.). If they aren't busy they can grab something at Starbucks. The wives like to make goodies to send in. (*side note...none of you will be getting cookies or cinnamon rolls from me until after I'm fitting back into my "skinny" pants so don't even ask!) During the summer they bbq and potluck. Not to mention the treats the public sometimes will drop by or when someone decides to "treat the office" to bagels or donuts. His sergeant makes this ah-maaazing pound cake. I have blocked from memory how many sticks of butter he says he uses. It makes my arteries clog just thinking of it. It is going to require a huge amount of will power on his part to stick with the plan. It's easier for me. I just have to avoid the fruit snacks, corn dogs, tater tots and gummy worms we have for the kids.
Hopefully the weight really will be over for us soon. I know we're both sick of it. Mostly I want us both to be healthy and to be around for our grandkids since I've been told they are the reward for having children. That's worth sticking around for!
(In case you're worried this blog will become our weight loss journal, don't be. I seriously don't want to share all our fatty struggles with you. I just thought it was cute that Mike was working out while I was writing so it was on my mind tonight!)