Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Late for dinner

So, my guy had some fun last night and ended up being late for dinner. A few years ago this drove me nuts. A few months ago when he didn't call me to say he would be even later it really drove me nuts.

I've been working hard to have a better perspective on it. Instead of feeling like he has no respect for me and the work I'm doing, I reminded myself that the job was probably bigger (ie. more drugs, more drunk people, someone who felt like fighting) and he was taking the extra time to be safe and do his job right. Plus, that is more paperwork and that takes longer.

Instead of being mad at the kids because their dad wasn't home and I couldn't yell at him, we sang some songs, played some games and had a totally "junk food" dinner: chicken nuggets, tater tots and root beer floats. We taught the baby how to drink from a straw for the first time and we laughed watching each other try to drink a root beer float without getting the foam on our noses.
I texted my guy to tell him what we were doing and that we missed him, instead of calling him and interrupting him (which could be dangerous). I just added texting to my cell plan this month for that reason. He called right back saying he missed us too and he was finishing paperwork. No grumpiness from either of us, just happy.

I put the kids to bed (kinda late, but oh well) and my guy got home a bit later still. But it's okay. I'm finally getting better at realizing he isn't trying to make me miserable or inconvenience me. Sure, he probably joked with the guys in there too, but he needs that comraderie. They keep each other safe and they need that time together. I know these are small things and those more seasoned police families probably think I am a moron for making a deal out of them, but they are milestones for me. Proof that I am adapting to this lifestyle and will be thriving in it instead of just surviving. Makes me happy.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Childs Play

I'm listening to my kids play with dolls and cars and just cracking up.

Just a small sampling of what I am hearing:

(To the toys)
This is the police car to the dump truck. Drop your weapons.
Ambulance car to police car. I need back up.
This is detective Isabelle Tower responding to a dead body call. (niiiiicccce)

Then we have dolls who are in a domestic "training". I don't know what that is. Oh and one doll went to a blood spatter training. Awesome.

(from sister to brother and back again)
Buddy, can you hand me that hammer? Over.
Okay Belle, here it is. Over.
Thanks Buddy. Over.
You're welcome. Over.
(This continued for some time, but I was laughing too hard to remember the rest.)

Yelled to me:

Mom! Xander is being a perp!

Mom! Buddy is about to commit battery!

Mom! You need to confiscate some weapons!

Here is a link to what we did this weekend too!
I wonder how normal kids play?