Life Behind the Thin Blue Line

I'm going to clue you in on something that I rarely, if ever, talk about.  To anyone. 'Cause it's easier that way.

There's a real big elephant that walks around our house every day, and that elephant's name is Fear.  His presence is often palpable. He lurks in the corners most of the daylight hours, preferring night time visits.  He flashes across the TV screen far too frequently and once he straight up rang my doorbell.  Just 2 hours ago he sashayed straight into the kitchen and sat on our chests.

My husband is a police officer.  And tonight, an officer from his department was shot in the stomach 2 hours after Mike left work.  Enter the elephant.

Mike decided to take this path in life while we were in college, and most of us found it somewhat strange as he looked like this at the time:

*now take a minute and enjoy that, and then mentally add on a pair of GIGANTIC HUGE SKATEBOARDER PANTS AND AIRWALKS.  Y'all.  There aren't words.*

But he meant it.  His grandfather, his hero, was NYPD.  Throughout his college years, he interned with the Athens PD and went straight into the academy after graduation.  By that point, we were "maybe dating" after 4 years of friendship and I had to start thinking about if the life of a police wife was for me.

Thankfully, I have an excellent role model.  My sister is also a police wife and mother of 2.  She has a 7 year head start on me, and I have watched and learned from the struggles their family has faced.  She told me often, "You aren't just marrying the man, you are marrying the job."  And it is so very true.  To separate the two is impossible.

Life as a police wife means, among other things:
-Having Christmas morning at 11:00 at night so he can see the kids' faces
-Sitting in restaurants alone, waiting for him to be cleared for a 20 minute meal break
-Sitting in restaurants alone with 2 entrees because his 20 minute meal break was cut short by a call
-Being schooled to sit in said restaurants so that he always is facing the door, even when he's off duty
-Family Fun Day being interrupted as he runs head on into traffic to help victims in a car accident that happened on our way to the park
-Trying to support his 230 lbs while he clings to me, weeping, after seeing the worst sides of mankind
-Having to switch gyms because too many people he's arrested attend ours and he feels that his wife and children are endangered
-Having plans in place for what to do in such endangered situations
-Knowing deep within my soul that if something were to go down, in a movie theater for instance, that my husband would kiss my cheek, tell me to stay down, and run straight at it

 I don't know who created this, but it couldn't be any more accurate!

I spent a lot of our newlywed time staring at the phone while he was on shift, waiting for it to ring with bad news.  I lived in fear of the doorbell, knowing that the day I open it to uniformed officers is they day I am widowed.  But I couldn't stay there.  Just couldn't.  It's exhausting and it's non-productive.  So I have adopted the "pray and press on" mindset... Pray as hard as you can every single day, and then press on knowing that it's out of your hands.  Keep the elephant away at all costs. Or at least try.

But as I said, he sneaks in when you aren't expecting it.  One day, home alone, I heard the doorbell and peeked through the curtains to see who it was.  All I saw was the sleeve of a uniform with an Alpharetta patch on it.  In an instant, I was on the verge of blacking out and barely able to open the door.  It took me 2.7 seconds to process that it was a fellow officer who lives nearby, coming by to drop off something he had borrowed.  But that 2.7 seconds was a reminder that the fear never leaves.  As busy as we stay and as blissfully ignorant as we pretend to be, it lurks. 

Tonight I watched Mike, as the confusion and misinformation about this evening's shooting swirled, knowing that he is every bit as aware as I am that it could have been him.  It would be an outright lie to say that he's not afraid of never coming home. However, he doesn't let the fear follow him to work. To do so would be counterproductive and unsafe.  He gets dressed every morning, putting on his Sheepdog patch and his cross shield necklace, kisses me and the boys while we sleep, and drives away.  The fear stays at home.  The fear stays with me.

Like so many other things in our lives, I can be crippled by it or I can conquer it.  In this case, though, we're stuck in the middle. I know that the worry is never going to go away.  Not ever.  And that it will continue to sneak up on us, leaving us breathless and on our knees. Conquest is just not an option.  I refuse to be crippled by it, so I suppose we are left with coping.

Praying and pressing on.

So tonight, please join me in praying for Mike's brother in blue, who from initial reports is expected to survive.  Join me in thanking God for those who willingly stand between you and the darkness.  Pray for their safety.  Pray for their families.  And yes, pray especially for those who have gone so far off track that their only recourse is violence.

"The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day!"

Confessions

1) We spent our anniversary dinner watching basketball at Taco Mac and were asleep by 9:30.

My dear cousin Margaret made a multi-purpose cookie cake (not only was it Easter, CDH day, our anniversary, but also my cousin Mitchell's birthday), so we took cheesy cake re-enactment pictures...

 

"Take a picture before we leave for dinner!" I said to my brother-in-law.

Not what I had in mind.  But this is confessions, and this is our marriage in a nutshell. ;-)

Much better.  All I see in this picture is my glaring ugly kneecaps.

2)  Before Sunday, my kneecaps have not been in open air in probably 4 years.  

If you have seen my kneecaps in person, take that as a testament to our friendship.  There are many reasons for this, not the least of which are my ghastly pale skin, general post babies fatness, and my pregnancy leftover varicose veins that are so bad that they will soon be requiring surgery. I wear nothing shorter than capri pants, even in the dead of summer, and the cover-up sarong stays on until the SECOND I get into a pool.

Sister and I were out shopping Saturday and both decided enough was enough.  The time for hiding behind maxi skirts was over.  Too many adorable dresses to pass up.  So, through mutual pep-talking, we each bought dresses that were WAY far out of our individual comfort zones.  And my kneecaps were afraid.

3)  My kneecaps almost didn't make it to church Sunday morning.

I got myself dressed Sunday morning, and finally felt some modicum of self-confidence due to:
a) having lost 40% of my post-babies pounds
b) Spanx
c) Kate Middleton-ing myself with super sheer hose and nude heels

HOSIERY FANS UNITE!  I love and adore her for reminding today's women that real ladies cover their legs and a multitude of uglies with nylon.  Wonder how she'll do if she has to wrestle the baby bump into prescription support hose. Been there, done that, honey.

I actually blow dried my hair.  I was SET!  And then, as we are walking out the door, a sweet little voice says in a somewhat panicked tone...

"MOM!  You CANNOT go to church without pants!"

*And there goes a little air out of my balloon.*

 "But sweetie, this is a dress and it's okay!"

"NO!  MOM!  Dresses are supposed to be long. I can see your legs!  YOU NEED PANTS!"

*pffffffffffffffffffffffffttttttttttttttttttttttttttt goes Abby's balloon*

At this point, I very strongly considered skipping church and going to the Krispy Kreme drive thru to drown my sorrows.  However, I managed to convince him to rub my legs, and that the fabric he felt counted as pants.   He was skeptical at best.

But I went.  And I am glad I did.  The first step to kneecap acceptance is the hardest.

4) Our house violated my "Easter is not Christmas" rule.  The Easter Bunny brought Jeremiah a bike.

And the Easter Bunny felt shame.  He usually decides that if it didn't come from the dollar spot at Target and/or it doesn't fit in your basket, it's too much.

TO BE FAIR... Santa Claus had originally brought Jeremiah a bike, but Santa screwed up and brought one that was correctly sized for his height, but just too darn big for him to control.  He has been terrified to ride it since day one, and Santa has felt sad.  The Easter Bunny caught wind of this, and decided to rectify the situation and to put Santa's bike away for a year or two.

And life has been grand. It has lights and sirens and is WAY COOLER than the big boy bike. For now.

**Excuse the total parenting fail in forgetting the bike helmet when going to the park.**

He rode that sucker all the way around a 2.2 mile trail with NO PROBLEMS AT ALL!  He was so proud of himself. 

Look at him. 

Brazenly standing there with his kneecaps all kinds of showing, 

hand on his hip and feeling feisty.  

There are lessons to be learned here, I think.

 I could eat those knobby lil' knees up.

5)  It's official. And I am scared to death!

I actually registered early for the marathon today (with a discount!), thanks to DVC member perks.  Our reservations are made... Wilderness Lodge for now, will try to switch it over to an Epcot resort when the seven month window opens.  This is good news.  Now I have a goal.  A concrete, PAID FOR goal.

But it still makes me completely sweaty-armpits terrified.

Training is going well-- I count January as my official start to training, and I have noticed a HUGE improvement in my stamina just 3 months.  Not to mention, despite making zero improvement to my eating habits, 13 lbs have come off since January 19th.

Totally not my motivation for doing this race, but definitely a nice side effect!

278 days to get ready.
Comin' for you, Mouse!

Easter Festivities!!!!

 I love and adore Easter.  I always have.  It has always been such a celebratory time-- as a child, you celebrate that the weather finally starts to warm up, you get fancy new clothes, and obscene amounts of candy appear in your house overnight.
As you get older, you finally start to grasp the magnitude of that day thousands of years ago when the stone rolled away and Jesus emerged victorious.  You start to realize that you are a stubborn wretch who screws up every day, but that because of Jesus and His sacrifice you have a hope and a future. Then you become a parent, get a whole new idea of what the word "love" means, and fully understand what it meant for God to love the world SO MUCH that he gave his son.

And you still celebrate the candy and the clothes. Let's be real.

We had so many fun things to do this week--
it started with a trip to Bass Pro Shops.  Despite my Christmas rage at them, I really just can't say how nice it is that they put on free festivities for all.  They had a fun little Easter egg hunt throughout the store (eggs were hidden in all the departments, tucked into hats and mittens, underneath taxidermied turkeys, etc. etc. etc.), crafts, and free photos with the Easter bunny.

 

 Redneck fun, friends. 

 The kiddos made these cute little bunnies.

 My two proper Southern gentlemen, seersucker suits, bucks, and bowties, waiting to see the bunny.

I had JUST. BRUSHED. PARKER'S. HAIR.  

Tickles me pink.

We also had Jeremiah's egg hunt at preschool, which was big fun despite being 30 degrees.  At the end of March.  This Georgia gal no likey the cold.

 

Egg hunt superstar!!

We woke up Sunday morning to a few goodies from the Easter Bunny...

  

Sweetest bunnies ever.

*Jeremiah's basket had a very important note from the Easter Bunny... more on that in a bit*

We went to church (Mike had to work but took a half day and was home for lunch)

This dress is a WHOLE. OTHER. BLOG. POST.

Jiminy crickets.

We then met up at Sister's house for food and egg hunt with the family, despite 2 minute torrential downours of rain every 15 minutes.

 Love these kiddos.

JeanJean and her great grandkids.

Get ready, Disney World, this crew is headed your way in 4 short weeks!!

Such a fun day.  So many blessings.  I hope yours was, too!

Six and Strong

Six years ago, on a bright and sunny day, a boy and a girl met at a church.

They each looked pensively out the stained glass windows.

And leaned on walls.

Hundreds of other people showed up.

And the boy and girl stood up in front of God and everybody and got married.

And there was much rejoicing.

And minorly inappropriate shenanigans.

(And sneaky 12 year old cousins stealing 40 glasses of champagne.  And somebody-who-shall-remain-nameless PUKING IN THE BATHROOM OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN.  But I digress...)
.
.
.

Fast forward 6 years, and here we are.  Going strong.

This is our life.

Nerds.

It would be an understatement to say that this year of marriage has been a hard one for us.  We lost an entire quarter of it, to be honest.  But we've come through it, just as we have the bumps in the road we've already passed and the ones yet to come.  'Cause I love this man.  Heart and soul forever and ever.

He makes me laugh.  Usually at inappropriate things.

He keeps me sane.  Well, he tries.

He is a better daddy than I ever dreamed possible.

He puts his life on the line every single day for people who don't appreciate it.

He leaves my closet light on when he goes to bed early so I don't bang my toes on the footboard in the dark.
He makes me feel pretty even when I have Cheerios in my hair and dried cake batter on my pants and am still carting around 32 pounds of 2-babies weight.
He's a big squooshy softie underneath his gruff and crusty exterior.
He makes me bonkers and sometimes I want to lock him in the backyard, but at the end of the day...

 

I'd marry him all over again.

Photo Catchup

It occurs to me on a daily basis that I need to get better about actually saving pictures and videos onto our external hard drive, most especially after my phone erased EVERYTHING last month.  It also occurs to me that everything I upload to this page can act as an extra backup on top of allowing our friends and family to see what the boys are up to...
In that spirit, let's revisit Parker's 9 month pictures and St. Patrick's Day.  Better late than never!!

My aunt Nesie (go visit her page and get her to take some pictures of you.  Seriously.  Go.) took Parker's 9 month pictures, the next in our we-can-do-that-Pinterest series.  He's pretty stinkin' cute, even if he REFUSED to smile for Nesie.  Not even one bit.

Here's the whole series so far-- just one more to go!  I can't even talk about how close we are to his birthday.  For serious.

She also took some of the boys together, which I absolutely ADORE. 

 Couldn't love two little beings any more than these two.

We also had St. Patrick's Day, which was not really a festival of festivities...

We went to the park...

 He loves to swing.

And Publix...

 Mischief,.

But it DID allow me to partake in my somewhat-obsessive Photo Re-creation with Jeremiah and Parker.

   Jeremiah at 3 months (one of my favorite pictures EVER!), Parker at 10 months. 

Love my little leprechauns!

In other news, we are completely doctor's visit free until May.  I do have to schedule a follow-up hearing screen (precautionary, not due to any concerns) and a possible physical therapy consult.  I have gone back and forth 100 times about physical therapy-- the developmental clinic wanted him "crawling by St. Patty's day", which I suppose is technically happening. It doesn't  look anything like a regular baby crawling-- it's more of a commando crawl with crazy leg kicks added, but he can most definitely get where he wants to go.  Dr. Putnam, our pediatrician, is unconcerned.  My friend Jill, a PT herself, is unconcerned.  I, his crazy mommy, am in constant "SHOULDN'T WE BE AT THE DOCTOR MORE?????" mode. Le sigh.  We'll get it sorted out.

This week, however, we are focused entirely on Easter festivities and remembering the sacrifice Jesus made for us all. (I have been glued to The Bible miniseries on the History channel... though it has taken some "artistic liberties" with the Scriptures, it has been an amazing reminder of God's power and His plans for this mixed-up world we live in.  Sunday is the finale- the crucifixion and resurrection. Can't wait!)  We also have Easter egg hunts and seersucker suits and bowties and frivolities.  And being eternally grateful to have two baskets for the bunny to fill this year.

Storytime Shift

If this entry seems out of place, it is.  It originated as a response to a question posed by an expectant CDH mama on Facebook, and my response was so gigantic and ridiculous that I had to move it here.  Perhaps it will be useful to other CDH mamas who are trying to plan it all out.  Maybe they will want to see my Psycho Mommy Binder full of childcare charts and freezer meal recipes!! :-)

Her situation sounds so similar to ours-- an older sibling at home (who would be out of school for the summer, mind you), within driving distance of the hospital, but not an ideal distance, and a general feeling of "HOW ON EARTH AM I GOING TO DO THIS???"

Here's how it worked for us, and only for us.  It it not a magic answer.  It is not the best thing for everyone.  It is not the prescribed method of How to Survive the NICU.  It is, however, something I would have loved to have seen before I lived it. I am a planner, and detailed plans make me happy.  So here it is:

Going into it, we were adamant about 2 things:
1) We would eat dinner together EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Unless there was an emergency.
2) There would not be a day that both Mike and I did not see both of our boys.

And we were able to do it for the entire 3 months.  I can count on 2 hands the days where one or both of those things did not happen.

How did we do it?  A glimpse into our lives during Parker's NICU stay:

Mike's Off Days:
7:30- wake up, place phone call to day nurse for update about Parker's night.
8:30- Parent A (it alternated) departs for hospital, Parent B stays home with Jeremiah
6 pm- Parent A arrives back home, dinner as a family
8:30 pm- Parent A puts Jeremiah to bed, Parent B departs for "Storytime Shift" at hospital, stopping at Starbucks on way (a necessity)
Midnight-ish- Parent B departs hospital after reading a story.  The story was a non-negotiable. **shout out to Egleston for having a lending library!!*
1am- Parent B collapses into bed.  Rinse and repeat.

Mike's Workdays
5 am- Mike leaves for work.
7:30 am- Abby wakes up, places phone call to day nurse to see how Parker had done overnight.
8:30 am- Abby departs home, drops Jeremiah off at whichever family member/friend is responsible for him that day 
4 pm-Abby leaves hospital (it was always at 4 because there were vital checks and blood gasses at that time) and picks up Jeremiah
7 pm- dinner at home, or meet Mike out for dinner somewhere between his work and the hospital.
8 pm- Abby does bedtime with Jeremiah, Mike goes to hospital for Storytime Shift.  Still in uniform, as seen below :-)
10pm- Mike leaves Storytime Shift fairly early if he has to be up the next day.  Otherwise, he stays 'til midnight.

A lot of people would look at this and think "You have to be kidding."  I look back on it and am not entirely sure how we pulled it off, but you do what you have to do for your kids and your own mental sanity.

It worked for us because we are late-night people.
It worked for us because there was a Starbucks at the hospital exit.
It worked for us because we had every confidence in the overnight hospital staff, knew they would call us in a heartbeat if we were needed, and that if it came down to it we could make it to the hospital quickly.
It worked  for us because Egleston welcomed us at all hours (except shift changes while on A side) and never made us feel weird for being there, reading to our unresponsive baby in the dead of night.  
It worked for us because I precooked 8 weeks worth of meals that could be reheated in less than 30 minutes.  All Hubby had to do if he was home was warm it up and make a side dish.
It worked for us because we have the absolute best friends and family with whom I never had a moments' worry about leaving Jeremiah.

Cons:
-no sleep.  But seriously, it's not like you get any sleep the first three months of any child's life.
-very little time together as a family.  There's just no way around that one, but we did the best we could.
-insane amounts of time spent driving.  Gas money.  Road rage during rush hour.
-a chemical dependency on Starbucks that lingers to this day (it might have been there before.... moving on.)

Pros:
-consistency for Jeremiah.
-traffic and parking hassles were non-existent on Storytime Shift.
-the NICU was silent at night.  COMPLETELY. SILENT. Peaceful.  No hustle and bustle that wasn't necessary.  Lots of good bonding time.
-those late night stories are some of my best memories with Parker.  And I know they paid off!  **last entry is proof!**
-it allowed us to stick to our two goals-- dinner time together and time with both boys every day.

Was it hard? HA! I don't think I have to answer that.  But it worked  for us.  It was a temporary season of life, and it was not my favorite for many reasons.  It was hard on our family, it was hard on our marriage, it was hard on our bodies, it was hard on our hearts.  But we did our best.  And that's all anybody can do!

Lots of Good Fun That is Funny

Yesterday was Dr. Seuss's birthday... and Friday was Read Across America Day.  Jeremiah had a ball at school on Friday-- he greeted me at carpool wearing quite festive headgear.  He was pumped because they had read one his favorite books, One Fish Two Fish.

Love him so.

As we drove home, it was round about Parker's naptime, and he was cranky.  He had mysteriously lost his binky in the depths of his carseat, and I of course could not reach it as I drove.  He was not pleased, to say the least.  Those little lungs that we spent so many months praying over were proving themselves to be functioning QUITE NICELY, thank you so much.

Meanwhile, on the Kids Place Live channel on XM, they were broadcasting live from the New York Library  Celebrities were stopping by to do read alouds of Seuss books.  It was a good time.  For me and JB, at least.  The P-nut, not happy.

And then, something strange happened.  Uma Thurman came on to read The Cat in the Hat, and not 30 seconds into it, Parker was completely calm and rode home the rest of the way in happy silence, kicking his little legs and smiling.

Why, you may ask, is that strange?  Because I read that book to him at least once a day in the hospital.  Starting from the day he was born.  It sat in his box of clothes and toys and it was a favorite.  I got my first big smile while reading it to him.  He was completely enthralled by it, even after the hundredth time through.

"The sun did not shine, it was too wet to play..."   Hearing those words  brought back so many memories... sitting by his bedside at midnight during Storytime Shift, before we could hold him.  Propping him up on my knees in the Boppy once we could.   Seeing his little eyes light up while he looked at the pictures. Here's little movie clip I found (apologies for the cellphone camera quality and the fact that I was trying to read and film at the same time!):

Look at my little booger!  Seems like a lifetime ago! Makes me a little weepy.

Coincidence?  Maybe.  But I don't think so.  Since we've been home, that book has been put back in the rotation with the other 5 million we have around here and I honestly don't remember the last time we read that one to him.  And his response was almost instantaneous!

It makes my English teacher heart happy. We have read every day to both our boys since I saw two pink lines on the stick with Jeremiah.  I think it has made a world of difference for Jeremiah, who is consistently described as having the vocabulary of a grown-up.  I got proof on Friday of the impact it had on Parker, even during his newborn days.

All of this to say--
Read to your kids!  Every day!  Big kids and little kids and kids not yet born.  NICU babies who are unresponsive and feel light years away despite being within arm's reach.

“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.”

-- Dr. Seuss