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How To Love Your Cop
How To Love Your Cop

Horrormones

Years ago my daughter was having a really bad day. Like nothing was going right. At all. She was cranky. Really cranky. Like spouting off to me and her brother for nothing. Everything was bad. Really bad. Like climb back into bed and pull the covers over your head bad.

And then the tears started. And they wouldn’t stop. I remember coming out of her room, shaking my head at her little brother, who was nine at the time.

He looked at me with those sweet baby blues, and innocently comforted me with “That’s why they call them horrormones, Mom.”

The boy is SMART.

So that little memory came back to me last week. I was having a bad day. Like nothing was going right. At all. And I was cranky. Really cranky. And everything was bad. Really bad. And all I wanted to do was climb back into bed and pull the covers over my head.

It started with an innocent comment, early in the morning. I was tying my running shoes and Chief asks, “Where you going?” I said I thought I’d talk a walk. “Good!” he says, way too enthusiastically.

Now, on any other week, I would’ve known that he was glad I was taking care of myself, no more, no less. BUT, this particular morning, it meant I was FAT. Undesirable. Not meeting his standards. And of course, he’s embarrassed by my appearance. And all of sudden, I’m arguing with him. In my head. And boy, I’m letting him have it. Oh! So I need to exercise, huh? Well, buddy, do you know all the things I do every day?! I barely have time to fart by myself let alone take a walk! And suddenly, my head is spinning around and green stuff starts shooting out…

And then Little Guy (although he’s now as tall as me) asked nicely, “Mom, can you get me the milk?”

Okay, on any other week, I’d see that I was an arms length away from the fridge, and say, “Sure!” BUT, this particular morning, he was LAZY. And never mind the fact that he just started a new school and a new baseball team and his voice is changing and he finished all his chores and homework over the weekend, he was lazy! And he didn’t say please! And he’s taking advantage of my role as a mom. Well, buddy, do you know all the things I do for you?! I just packed your lunch and that requires planning, shopping, decision making, putting away groceries, and getting up early to help you out! And suddenly my head is spinning around and green stuff starts shooting out…

And then the phone rang. It was the pharmacy with it’s annoying computer-generated voice that I think is supposed to be cheerful, reminding me that I need to pick up my prescription.

So, any other week, I would be filled with loving gratitude that they provide this timely and wonderful service. BUT, on this particular morning, they were IMPATIENT. How dare you call me again! I already have this on my to do list for today, thank you very much, and I don’t need you to remind me that I have way too much to do, I’m constantly behind, and oh yes, nobody appreciates me!!! And suddenly my skull is rotating on my vertebrae and last week’s broccoli makes it’s reappearance…

And if anyone asks when my cycle is, I’ll dust off my husband’s semi-automatic and pretend I’m Angelina Jolie. Any other questions?!

Think I’ll take action on that thought to retreat to my sleep number bed and disappear beneath the feathers.

That’s why they call them horrormones…

August 27th, 2012

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Authenticity

When my book first came out and my friends and family members read it, a frequent observation was, “Wow, you really put a lot of personal stuff in there. Has Chief read it?”

Are you kidding?! Of course Chief read it! He went through it with a fine-tooth comb. And he gave me feedback – some of which was hard to hear but essential for its excellence. When co-workers questioned him as well, he replied, “If it helps others with their marriages, I’m completely willing to talk about our difficulties.”

My aunt was the first one to really nail my reason for this. She wrote, “I was a bit surprised that you were so open and personal about your experiences, but that’s what makes it so compelling. It should be required reading for a lot of young couples, not just law enforcement pairs. It even speaks deeply to old long-time married folks like us, forcing one to really examine our relationships with our spouses…”

If you read last week’s blog, you know that I continue to share the good, the bad, and the ugly for the sake of sharing the lessons I learn in life with you. Knowing that we are more alike than different in our thoughts and actions connects us. I know I’m not all that – and you know you’re not all that. Authenticity brings relief.

And what does this have to do with how we love our cops? Everything.

Somewhere in the course of our culture’s “evolving” relational intelligence, we’ve downplayed the idea that our actions (both good and bad) have significant impact on those we are close to. There are no real consequences, it’s my business. These are MY choices – they have nothing to do with you. But really – do your choices affect your spouse? Your kids? The neighbor? The taxpayer? If I choose to eat a donut, who’s business is it but mine? Well, let’s see. Donuts pad on weight, which I want to lose. A choice to screw it all and devour empty carbs will inadvertently tack on guilt (right there on the thighs – where it’s virtually impossible to lose!). And that guilt manifests itself, eventually, into irritation. Irritability leads to sensitivity. Sensitivity leads to insecurity. Insecurity leads to misunderstanding. And misunderstanding results in conflict. With the others who are close to you. Every choice – negative and positive has its effect on others whether we choose to acknowledge it or not.

We also think that admitting our shortcomings will have a negative effect on our self-esteems and the respect others have for us. I’ve got news for you – those you live with already know that you aren’t perfect. It’s like the idea that we can’t tell God we’re angry – He already KNOWS! And understanding and acknowledging the stupid things we do not only help with the authenticity of our relationships, but those who are willing to apologize and/or change, are very much respected.

When we admit our shortcomings, we take away their power over us. Rather than expend the energy to hide, deflect, and lie about the things we don’t do well, or the wrong things we say, the mistakes we make, or whatever the case may be, we can use the energy to come clean. It’s much less exhausting to be authentic than to put up a front.

And here’s an added bonus. When we give ourselves freedom to make peace with our weaknesses, we’re much more willing to forgive others their shortcomings. Suddenly there is a willingness to come closer and connect because there is permission to fail – I can be who I am – good, bad, ugly – if there is mercy, forgiveness and restoration.

(Disclaimer – This doesn’t extend to abuse, and it doesn’t give license to chronic bad behaviors. Although, admitting a problem is the first step to restoration in such cases.)

So what am I saying? I’m sayin’ let’s keep it real with each other, people. We’re all in this together.

July 31st, 2012

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Anger Management

It was the final inning of the game and we were down by 2 runs. It was a hard fought battle – they were hitters, and the umpire seemed to be against us. We had two boys on base, and our “manchild” was up – he could hit homeruns into the next county. We were wound tight – this is it! And the pitch – high and inside – grazed the hand of our player leaving a cut and bruise. He winced, and started for first base. The umpire yells, “Where you goin’?!” and our guy replied, “It hit me.”

“No, son, it hit the bat. That’s a foul ball.” replied the ump. We came unglued. Chief comes out of the dugout to protest. Our side erupts in shouts. The umpire refuses to budge. “I heard it hit the bat,” he argues. He refuses to even look at the player’s hand. And all of a sudden – I couldn’t see. The Inner Grizzly emerged with a gutteral cry that came from where last Friday’s dinner was being digested. “HE HIT HIS HAND! HE HIT HIS HAND! HE HIT HIS HAND!”

The field was a blur, but I could still hear. And what I heard was, “Shut up and sit down before you get us tossed!” I whirled around and don’t remember what came from my mouth, but lost all control. She came back with another verbal blow to the gut. A sheet of red hot anger flashed before my eyes, when my girls intervened and I slowly sat down. And then, “You got somethin’ to say to me?! BRING IT!” Another wave of wrath shook me and I could feel my fists tighten. From the left I heard, “MOM! BETTER PERSON!” and it brought me back. I closed my mouth, shaking. At that point, I knew both the argument and the game were over. But the guilt started in…

How could a forty-something cop wife who had raised four kids, who’d written a book that talks about gratitude, patience, and self-control, just about come to blows at the call of an ump? I know better… I haven’t been like this since high school… I thought being a woman of faith and prayer was above this ghetto-like temptation? I’ve embarrassed my kids… I’m a fool… And on and on.

Have you been there?

Anger is a sleeping lion, crouching just beneath the surface, ready to devour those who dare to deny it’s existence. Just when we think we could never go there, we find ourselves wrapped in shame, picking up shell casings left by the verbal shootout. We must understand where the anger comes from, and what triggers it.

My triggers were fear, a sense of injustice, and then unkindness. I saw my boys’ hope of winning sectionals slipping through the fingers of the man in blue – fear. And then I witnessed Chief in a rare moment of strong protest and I felt like the umpire had truly been paid by the other team – injustice. And the final insult – unkindness. I wanted to rewind time. I wanted what my boys wanted. I wanted…

What are your triggers? What really makes you mad? We have to look at it, ugly as it is, and define it. Prepare for it. And if anger rares its ugly head, we must deal with its damage.

That night I apologized to my family. I laid justification aside and realized my anger got the best of me. I allowed myself to feel the embarrassment. For a time. But then, when the other mom reached out to me about the incident, I forgave her, apologized for my actions, and now feel at peace. We’re ready to move beyond the carnage, choosing to get along for the sake of our families and friends.

There will always be arguments in our lives. With our spouses, with our kids, our in-laws – the list goes on. Anger is an unfortunate reality, but it also shows we care deeply.

July 18th, 2012

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What We Say Matters

Last night the Chief and I stumbled upon a show called The Great Escape. There were three teams that had to escape several levels of what they called a “labyrinth.” There were two couples and a team of brothers. While we watched with intrigue as they repelled out windows, evaded guards, hid in laundry trucks and searched for keys, there was a phenomenon that was growing old – quick.

The two women couldn’t keep their mouths shut.

As their husbands tried desperately to work under pressure, using their strength, brains and bravery and then helping their wives along, the two had one thing in common: they relentlessly nagged them every step of the way.

“The other teams are coming!”

“Why can’t you cut faster?!”

“What!? You just gonna leave me here?!”

“I told you they were coming…”

Nag, nag, nag. And it was ugly.

One husband just ignored his wife. The other shut down, at one point saying in response, “You’re not helping!” That couple had the lead, and ended up stuck at a level the rest of the game. They came in last.

It doesn’t take much to cut down, undermine, irritate, and simply drive our husbands to ignore us. We can render them inoperable with a few short syllables.

But it does take courage, self-control, and inner strength to build up.

I had a friend who’s mother didn’t have a positive word to say to anyone. Eventually others tuned her out and discarded her in their minds and attitudes – they just couldn’t take the negativity. Yet she was a beautiful and gifted lady who could throw a party you wouldn’t believe. She sang and played the piano amazingly. She had wonderful organizational skills. But when she died of bone cancer at a young age, her family struggled to remember positive stories of her life. Nothing funny, nothing good – only that at last she was at rest after such a horrible disease. They were relieved she was gone. What a shame.

When I think of her, I think of one word – unforgiveness. She had been hurt in her younger years and never got over it, never healed, never walked away free. Instead she built walls of protection around her, locking in fear with her. And it marred her family, her character, and ultimately overshadowed her best qualities.

The Great Escape was a good lesson for me to remember that my words can either hurt or heal. My words can tear down or build up. My words can render me pleasant to be around or drive others to be relieved that I’m gone. This week I will strive to keep it positive. Want to join me?

July 9th, 2012

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A Little Reminder

I had myself a little reminder to slow down my driving a few months ago. Wrote the officer a poem to let him know that I learned my lesson. And yes, I’ve slowed down!

While on my way to Chico, passed a trucker doin’ 50
Radio on, singing loud, was a feelin’ jus’ nifty,
When all of sudden I see a red light
He made a quick U-turn, and my joy turned to fright!

To the shoulder I went, my hands started shaking,
Pass me by, I had hoped, but no, he was braking.
To my wallet I went, opened it up with a clatter,
He slowly strode up, to find out what was the matter.

“Do you know the limit?” he did ask me quite stern,
I guessed wrongly, sadly, and so it was my turn
To find my registration, license and insurance proof,
And boy, I was nervous, to tell you the truth!

I’m married to an officer, a warrior in blue,
And then he realized, “Oh, could it be true?
That the car he had clocked at a strong 74
Could be the wife of one he’d worked with before?”

And I, all embarrassed, and shaky and flustered,
Laughed nervously and then I sort of mustered,
“Please don’t mention this to a CHP crowd
I set the example, for cryin’ out loud!”

He told me to get on about my day,
And suggested that I slow down along the way,
He flashed me a grin, that dear man in blue,
And to him my pocketbook says a big thank you.

I give no excuses, a ticket I deserved,
But for me it was grace that he had reserved,
And a reminder to me as a police wife
55 is the rule – it could save my life.

March 23rd, 2012

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Take Time for the Sparrows

I’ve been gone a few weeks. I’ve flown halfway across the world to meet with thousands of Filipino police officers and their wives. It was a mind-blowing trip, one that has already enhanced my vision of what I’m aiming to accomplish through my book, blog, and beyond. In future posts, I will share some of the lessons I learned, observations that apply to us here in America.

My intention was to post many of my thoughts along the way – but frankly, the thoughts were too many as the trip progressed forward. Sometimes life comes too quickly, and the things we see and experience are just too big to process in the moment.

I flew home on a 14-hour flight with the Guys snoring on either side of me, trying to get comfortable in a seat that doesn’t recline far enough, my legs cramped up in a space too small for my comfort, and in my sleepless stupor I’m trying to figure out – what did I learn?

We touched down in San Francisco and thus started another whirlwind – hugs hello to Chief and the kiddos, hugs goodbye to eight new brothers, a very large double-double animal from In and Out (much appreciated and enjoyed), and spewing out random things I experienced. I don’t even remember the first two days home. But then I jumped into three birthday celebrations, a speaking thing, a book event and all while experiencing serious jet lag and missing Manila in a big way. And then strep throat hit.

Do you ever have times like this? When you can’t seem to come up for air? Seasons where it is one thing after another and it’s nothing short of chaos? Stop the world – I wanna get off! When your mind is on auto-pilot and your body is moving from one thing to the next? I KNOW you’ve been there… probably more times than you can count.

So, finally, I sit here pondering what to say, and I just have to take time to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. And I notice and relish the distant sound of the dryer (the third load this morning) and the sparrows that are chirping outside after several days of rain. Sigh…

Our lives as police wives (and regular wives, mothers – heck, as just plain women!) are full. It seems like we rush here and there, changing diapers, cooking, working, running uniforms to the dry cleaners, managing our homes, driving the kids to ballet and baseball…crossing off the proverbial to-do list. But sometimes it’s good to just be alone and ponder what we’re learning in the midst of it. What have we seen? Is it significant? What treasures am I thankful for? How am I making a difference in the lives that touch my own?

Perhaps you’re in a season of chaos right now. But when the moment comes, take some time and listen to the sparrows. It’s a beautiful thing.

March 19th, 2012

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