Friday, December 17, 2010

From The Mouths of Babes

"I'm gonna be sad about you going back to work tomorrow," Sierra made her thoughts known after CA Cop informed her that his final day off for the week had arrived and was drawing to a quick close.

I really love his days off.  He switches with 3 days off one week and 4 days off the next.  I know that's a blessing. Chores and cooking are somewhat put on hold and we usually find ourselves running around town with miscellaneous errands to accomplish and two little ones in tow.  We shop, we browse, we get groceries, we patch uniforms, we visit family and we do everything together. Usually all four of us. It's awesome. I know its cliche but I cherish his time with us. I absolutely do. We are a solid family unit when he's with us.

On his working days he's gone from about 5:30 AM until 8:00 PM (as long as he gets off on time). Me and the kids are tucked into our toasty beds upon his departure in the morning and I'm the only one up during his arrival in the evening. So the kids can realistically go 3 or 4 days per week without even catching a glimpse of their dad.

On CA Cop's first morning back to work this week I heard Shasta jabbering in his crib at about 7:30am.  I carried him into my empty bed for morning cuddle time, as is the usual routine.  He squealed and began lifting up the blanket saying "Where daddy go?" I realized my long pillow was under the blanket in CA Cop's vacant space and Shasta thought daddy was hiding from him as he often will do on his mornings off.  It made the start of our day feel a little glum in comparison to the morning before.  I'm grateful that my kids appreciate his presence in our home as much as I do and miss him when he's gone.

Well, he has been assigned to a new shift come January.  He changes quarterly and I've found that for a really bad shift that's just about how long I can stand it!

Drum roll...........

CA Cop will be on the swing shift. 3:00pm to 3:00am. This one will be new for us. I don't even know what to expect. He'll leave our house around 1:30pm or so each day and return around 4:00am (if he gets off on time :)). Things I'm trying to figure out: when do I cook dinner? Will he want breakfast or dinner when he wakes up? Should I just move into the spare room and bathroom so the kids don't wake him up when they come to wake me in the morning and so that I can get ready for the day before noon? So anyhow, there will be some kinks to work out, but I think I'm happier about this than graves.  Hopefully he will be able to sleep better since he won't be completely backwards, just partially!

As I reflect back to where we were in this process a year ago (not hired, not knowing) I am truly grateful for God's hand in our life.  Faith is important to us and has carried us through some difficult times. We are blessed to have the kind of peace in our life that can only be brought through Him.

So, cheers to new experiences and new adventures and to the swing shift!

Saturday, December 11, 2010

CA Cop, inside out

So Mrs Fuzz posted here recently all about Hot Fuzz and what he's like beyond the badge.  Things that are very "uncop like". I enjoyed reading it and thought I would follow suit and give you all the low down on CA Cop.

So CA Cop in a nutshell... where do I begin?!

He's a former baseball star.  Quite the skilled shortstop and pitcher.  Jr Olympics, League World Series champ, collegiate pitcher.  Those were the glory days. Such a stud.  He loves to coach.  He has coached at the JV and Varsity High School levels and has been invited to coach Junior College, but frankly doesn't have the time anymore.  He'll play softball occasionally, but he found even that difficult to really commit to these days.

He has his bachelors degree in sociology. He was originally thinking he might become a teacher seeing as how he loved to coach and works really well with the youth.  I have a suspicion that he'll get assigned as an SRO for a period of time.

When we first were dating I was shocked to see his closet.  Not only were his shoes perfectly lined up, but all of his clothes were hung up and facing the same direction.  He informed me that he always knew when his brother "borrowed" a shirt because it would be hung up differently. LOL.  Some of that OCD left him for a short time after we wed, but has since returned.

He loves shoes and jackets. I think he gets at least one new jacket every year.  He has so many ties, I don't think it would be possible to count them.

He can build you a house, but never a car. He went from a carpenter building scaffolding up the sides of tall sky scrapers and bridges in San Francisco and San Jose to becoming a general contractor running his own business doing custom remodelling for beautiful homes. He has made a couple homes we've purchased stunning; however, we pay to have our oil changed and panic if the check engine light appears.  Let's just say cars aren't his strong point.

He is a total family man and most of the time would rather be with us than his buddies. His little girl is treated like a princess and his son gets hugs and kisses.  I love watching him with the kids.  On his days off Sierra insists that he is the one to put her to bed.  He propels her into sweet dreams with stories of little animal adventures or lately, Santa Clause.  He sings her "Take Me Out To The Ball Game" every night.  Shasta is loved by his dad in a way that makes me melt.  He has no qualms about giving his son affection.  Of course he makes sure to tackle him every so often as well.

He listened to so much rap music in high school and junior college.  I'm talking big speakers in the trunk of your lowered Honda kinda rap.  HA HA HA!

He is a hunter.  He LOVES hunting.  Get the man into the woods with a tree stand and a gun and you won't see him for days. That was a very frequent hobby when we lived in a different state for a few years.  Its harder to exercise that passion in the bay area.  So he concludes that now he mostly just "hunts people."

This same guy who listened to the rap music wore a straw hat and drove a tractor when we lived in the other state.  We bought a house with 10 acres and I learned things about CA Cop that I never knew! We bought an old Ford truck which he promptly named "Billy Bob" and filled our barn with farm animals and chickens that we gave names to.  I loved watching the city boy turn country.  I always knew I had it in me, but was pleased to see him bucking hay, with a grin, right beside me.

He's my sweetheart. Slow to anger (unless he accidentally bumps his head or hurts himself, lol). Real easy to get along with and very observant.  He's a great father, a good son to his parents, and an excellent husband, besides all the detac he tries to test on me.

He's all these things..... Oh yeah, he also happens to be a cop.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Enlighten Me... Gear

Oh the thrill. 

The sound of the loud engine rumbling out in the street.  The anticipation as you hear the footsteps approaching your front door.  Pause. And there it is. The doorbell rings.  You race to the door, but sometimes your too late. You catch only but a glimpse of the brown suit as they make their way back into the big truck, so fast, so swift, like Santa. Or other times the friendly face offers up a fun little electronic device for you to sign with.  The signature only somewhat resembles what you tried to make it do, but they always reassure you that you did well. And there on your stoop is a lovely brown box. Wrapped securely with gobs of clear packaging tape that even Macgyver couldn't bust through.  Waiting to be scooped up and lovingly taken inside its new home.

Seriously, how fun is it to get a package? Or, I should correct myself, how fun did it used to be? The mystery of who it could be from or better yet who it might be for? Me? Him? Kids? Or is it the long awaited online shopping order that has reached its final destination after weeks of tracking. Will it fit? Is it the right product? Was it the bargain it promised to be?

With the new police officer living at our address the event "Arrival of a Package" seems to have lost its thrill... for some of us. As I'm sure our neighbors can attest there seems to be a permanent UPS truck that has taken up residency in the middle of our street and right in front of our home. And there is an unceasing stream of small, medium, and large brown boxes that flow from said truck to our front porch. The doorbell rings. Footsteps no longer race to the door to see what the brown suit has brought this time, unless of course CA Cop is home on a day off.  In that case, the pitter patter is present and hasty.

Gear.  Boxes of it.  Truck loads of it.  Entire jet planes of it.  Oh my. Could a man possibly need another bag? I swear his bag collection far exceeds my purse collection.  There are duty bags, patrol bags, evidence bags, range bags, ammo bags, bags that hang in your car, bags that hang in your locker, bags that carry your lunch, bags that do flips and somersaults and catch bad guys for you! And we recently discovered that 511 tactical will often throw in a free item or two with your order so heck, lets order and see what we get free!

The boxes are rapidly opened. The products thoroughly examined over and over.  Tests are performed.

If the perfection test did not meet standards back they go.  The little brown boxes.  Soldiers lined up waiting for their next orders.  The handcuffs were wrong.  The gloves were too thick.  The jacket is not thick enough.  And we continue each day in this manner.

So my friends, enlighten me on the world of everything that is "gear". Is this rookie action at its best?  We will soon accumulate all the necessities that "so and so" has? Or should I invite the UPS man to join the family since he sees us more than his own children?

My own joy of seeing the brown box on my doorstep is forever tainted by gear, but watching CA Cop look like a 4 year old on Christmas each day when he spies them is irreplaceable.

Thursday, December 2, 2010


As an officer's wife.....

When a cop is on the same road as I am, I no longer slam on my breaks and glance down at the speedometer. To me, cops aren't just "ticket writers" anymore. I assume the officer is probably on his way to alleviate a stressful situation.  To protect an innocent victim.  To remove a damaging soul from endangering society any longer. In my heart, I always say a prayer for his safety, for his courage, for his family. I think about his wife, his children, waiting at home as they do each night for their hero to return, battered and tired.  I alert my kids who desperately stretch their bodies in their little car seats to catch a glimpse of the hero driving by. Shasta yells "Dada" and Sierra frantically waives, complaining if they don't notice her and waive back.

I even say out loud sometimes, "be safe, be strong."

I always respected police officers, but now I deeply respect them.  I see what you all do, and yes it is a path that you chose, but it is also one that not many would choose because of what you are faced with. You are warriors.

Just know, for what it's worth, you all have a fan.

....And I'm raising two more.