It Was Like A Vacation....

As I sit here at my desk, looking over the list of things that I need to catch up on, while waiting for my coffee to brew, and still wearing my pajamas, I can't help but feel as tho I am returning to work.

You see, for the past two weeks I have been out of town working. An opportunity came up for me to be able to earn some extra Christmas cash, so, I pounced. (In this economy, I'd have been crazy not to!)

For the past two weeks, I woke between 6:30 and 7:00am. I was showered, dressed, and out the door by 7:45. I stopped on my way to grab a cup of convenience store coffee and cranked up the Christmas tunes, to help lift my spirits. I worked, for the last week, outside, in rain, wind and cold. Yes, really. I honestly was chilled to my bones, some of those days. I kept my eye on the prize and pushed on. I dealt with unpleasant people and people that just warmed my heart. Some of these people that I encountered honestly made me feel like a princess. They would put up my tent, add walls to said tent in the rain, and even bring me a small space heater, to try to help keep me warm. (the heater wasn't the best, but it helped, and the thought behind it warmed me on the inside)

All of it, in the "normal" sense of events, was work. I was clocked in, clocked out, ate lunch, and received a paycheck. It was work, in every sense of the word.

For two weeks, "work" was my life. I was out of town, so my children were not with me. They were being cared for by their Daddy, and my Mom.

I missed them.

Terribly.

Today, as I sit here typing this out, waiting for my coffee to finish brewing, and still wearing my pajamas at 8:30am, I feel as tho all of that, was a vacation.

As I sit here looking over bills that need to be paid, appointments that need to be made, or cancelled, and the ever growing list of the things I must do before Christmas, I just can't help but feel like 2 weeks of "no responsibilities", was really a vacation.

With that being said, I will gladly take my responsibilities as a stay at home, homeschooling mom, over being a working mom, anyday. :)

Off to read some Christmas stories to my sweet little fellas.

Being a police wife is hard

It sucks.

Somedays.

Others, not so much.

Being a police wife means that you will never know when your husband will be home from work.
Being a police wife means that there will be nights that you sleep alone, or don't sleep at all, because you can't stop worrying.
Being a police wife means getting that last minute call that says he'll be even later than planned, because he has a search warrant.
Being a police wife means fishing bullets out of the dryer.
If you are married to an over achieving police officer, it will mean that your spouse has signed up for yet another special force.
That will mean even less time at home, than what you currently have.
Being a police wife means that you will encounter "badge bunnies", and some of them could even be within the department.
Being a police wife means that you have to trust, harder than you ever have, that the love he has for you and his family, is enough to resist any type of temptation.
That part isn't always so easy.
Being a police wife means there will be Christmas's celebrated on the 27th, or even the 30th.
Being a police wife means knowing how to totally rock a holiday, birthday or anniversary, no matter when it is celebrated.
Being a police wife means there are others that experience the same things you do.
Being a police wife means that your fellow LEO wives, will become your sister's, of sorts.
Trust them.
Being a police wife means knowing how to budget on an officer's pay, and making do, and sometimes not.
Being a police wife means that you may sometimes have to leave a public place, restaurant, shopping center, movie theater, etc. because your husband spotted someone that he has arrested.
You have to be okay with that.
Being a police wife means that the date night that you have looked forward to for three months, could quickly be interrupted if your husband sees a crime taking place.
You have to be okay with that too.
Being a police wife means that your husband may need to respond to a call out at any moment, interrupting your family time.
Being a police wife means that more times than not, you have to be mommie AND daddy.
You may have to grow to like playing football.
The way boys play.
Ouch.
Being a police wife means that the chances of your two little boys growing up and becoming police officers are pretty high.
Being a police wife means knowing that if your husband dies, all the funeral arrangements are already made.
Being a police wife means that you won't go through that alone.
Being a police wife means that he will come home and take his frustrations of the day out on you.
You don't have to be okay with that.
You can always remind him that you are not the enemy.
Being a police wife means being supportive, even when you can't find the courage.
Being a police wife means you will get asked questions about law enforcement.
It also means that you most likely will not have the answers to those questions.
So you'll get stared at.
In a confusing tone.
Just laugh.
Being a police wife means that your life is not everyone's idea of normal.
Your children may stay up until midnight, just so that they can get a glimpse of Daddy when he comes home.
Being a police wife means that you can easily become cynical to the world, because your husband is.
Be careful with that.
Being a police wife means that it's not always going to be easy.
Love him anyway.
Being a police wife means that you will go to funerals of fallen officers.
It means listening to your husband tell you stories of his friend that killed himself, because the pressures of the job became too much.
Being a police wife is really not as glamorous as they portray it to be, on tv.
I know these things because I am a police wife and I know that our family is stronger because of it.

~Carrie Becker

Letter to my 16 year old self.....

A few blogs that I follow (The Path Less Taken and freeplaylife)  are writing letters to their 16 year old selves. I think this was prompted by a great book by, Joseph Galliano titled, "Dear Me". You can purchase the book, here,  and a kindle version is also available.

So I sat around yesterday thinking of what I would tell a younger me, if given the chance. Would I give witty advice? Sarcasm? A tearful warning? No matter the advice I would give to a younger me, I can tell you that, without a doubt, ALL that I have experienced in my life, has made me who I am today. Without all those bumps and bruises, I wouldn't be me. There are a few things that I would change, and much that I would not.   My life is a testament that I am not, nor have I ever been perfect, but I AM perfectly me, and THAT is worth it all.

Dear Me,

       I know this may seem quite strange, writing a letter to yourself, 22 years in the past, but we are weird, you'll get used to it. ;)  

      I want to start by telling you that YOU are beautiful. Please don't waste another moment wondering if you will ever measure up. You will, and you will by far, exceed your expectations of yourself. YOU are amazing, yes, even at sixteen. I really want you to have more self confidence, because you will learn, that THAT is the most attractive trait you could ever obtain. 

     I also want you to know that you will meet a guy in another year, he's a total douche, avoid him. You know what, on second thought, don't. Go ahead and go out with him, you'll think he hung the moon, but he really didn't. You will think he is everything, but I can tell you now, he isn't. The ONLY good thing that will come from that relationship is your ability to not take shit from anyone, ever again. It's going to be a very rough three years with him. Oh, the first year will be bliss, but after that, it goes down hill, fast. He will leave his mark on you, figuratively, and literally. It's ok. In the end, YOU WIN. 

     Spend more time with your Grandma. I don't care how you get to see her, just go. She will pass away when you are nineteen, and your heart will shatter. Talk to her, more than you do now. Tell her you love her every single day. Take photos of her, so that you can save them for later on in life. You'll need those when times get hard, trust me. Oh, and get her to teach you how to make her nearly famous cat head biscuits. Go fishing her her, again.. and then do it one more time. She's fun, snuff, chewing tobacco and all. Make it a point to make her laugh, hold her hand, for no reason. Hug her tight. 

     I can say the same thing about your Daddy. You will lose him all too soon as well. He loved you more than you could ever know, and he didn't even have to. Listen with all your heart, when he tells you stories of how much he loved your Mom. He really did love her right up until the day he leaves this world. You will seek out a man much like your Daddy, and... {spoiler alert}... you find him.
     Try to pay more attention in history class. I know it's not your favorite, but you will one day wish you had. Apply yourself in Latin, don't just skate by. Yes, you will pass the class, but even after it's all said and done, you won't retain the information.... not that it will really matter, because to this day, you haven't NEEDED to know any Latin. Get out of the library!! Do you not realize there is an entire school full of people that you would find interesting? For every day of your high school career, you spent your lunches IN THE LIBRARY! I know you enjoy reading, but there are people out there waiting to meet you! Go!!
     You have no idea what is in store for you, just know that your life will eventually be so incredibly amazing. You're going to fall in love, for real this time, and he will love you for everything you are, and all that you're not. He will be amazing, this husband of yours. You will know, when you first see him, that HE is the one. It's crazy how it will happen. You won't have to wait too long.. you'll meet him when you are 20. All I can tell you is, don't pour the pitcher of iced water on him.
      I guess the main thing you should take from this, is, love yourself first and ENJOY LIFE. It gets SO much better!

                                                                                               XOXOXO, 

                                                                                                       Me

                                                                                               
    

   
   

New York State of Mind

The fellas and I made the trek north to NewYork, to visit family, while the Hubs is away on business. The drive was long, and trying, at times. It has been a great experience, full of wonderful learning and incredible laughter, shared with some of our favorite people.  I have so many wonderful stories to share with you, but only once we are back home, and settled in. until then, enjoy your family...live, laugh, love.

Peanut Butter Balls

For nearly 15 years, I have made peanut butter balls for my oldest brother in law. I haven't been such a great "sister" these past couple times that we have visited them. We've had two children, and sometimes, I get distracted. This tin, is the same tin that I have always used, when I bring him his favorite, homemade candy. I have told him many times, if he wants more, I need the tin back.

If you would like to make these yummy treats, here is the recipe that I use. These are approximate measurements, because over the years, I have misplaced the original. I can now tell if I need to add more sugar, just from the texture.

Peanut Butter Balls

1 small jar of CHEAP (off brand) peanut butter
1 box of confectioners sugar
1 package of meltable chocolate

Empty contents of peanut butter jar into mixer.

Slowly add the powdered sugar. The mixture will get increasingly harder for the mixer to turn, so you'll need to stop, and knead by hand.

Once the mixture is crumbly, and you can form in to balls, you've added enough sugar. (just about the entire box) Set the peanut balls into the fridge to set firm. (about 30 minutes)


While waiting, get your chocolate ready for dipping.  


Roll balls in melted chocolate and place on parchment paper to cool. 


Enjoy. :) 

Honey Graham Crackers

I decided to try making my own graham crackers. I couldn't find the required "graham flour" that many recipes suggested. So I used whole wheat flour, instead. Here is my recipe.

Honey Graham Crackers

2 cups whole wheat flour 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1 cup self rising flour 1/3 cup honey
1/2 cup butter (softened) 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup milk

1) Sift together the flours
2) In a medium bowl, cream together the margarine, brown sugar and honey, until light and fluffy.
3) Stir in the sifted flours, alternating between the vanilla and milk
4) Cover dough and refrigerate overnight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
5) Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Divide the chilled dough into quarters.
6) Roll the dough out, one quarter at a time. Make to desired thickness.
7) Use cookie cutters, or shape into desired shape.
8) Cover with cinnamon sugar, before baking. Place on greased cookie sheet.
9) Bake for 13-15 minutes. Remove from baking sheets and cool on wired rack.

Going Up?

As I sit here trying to stay awake until my husband gets home, my thoughts race as fast as I can blink.


Something that has been at the forefront of my mind, lately, is the rising food costs. With the drought hitting almost every corner of the U.S., farmers, both big and small, are feeling the affects. That cost has to be absorbed somewhere. Welcome to your local supermarket. For the past couple of years, I have tried, and mostly succeeded, in buying organic foods for my family of four. It's never been something that I questioned. I knew what I didn't want going in to my children's bodies. I knew what made me feel good, to feed them. So, I paid the extra for these organic products, and we made up the difference some place else, within our family budget. 


It's getting a little harder to do that. 


I'm feeling guilty. 


I know that I'm not always going to be able to purchase pastured beef, or free range chicken eggs. I know that the milk I love to give to my children, is going to get more expensive. The current price, for a gallon of organic milk, is roughly $8. We consume two gallons a week. Sometimes more, sometimes less. Milk is one area I refuse to make a compromise. I've read to much, watched too many videos, and did my own amount of research on commercial milk. 


It's not pretty. 


So, with these economic times, forcing us to tighten our belts, I'm torn. I will continue to purchase organic milk. I can live without organic coffee, I suppose. I prefer to purchase our meat from Publix now. At least I know that they refuse using "pink slime", fillers, and dye. I talked to the butcher, and he said they take pride in their meat, and that quality is important to them. He told me they PROMISE to never use any of those items, in their meat department. That makes me feel a tad bit better, at least I know I"m not feeding my children slime, when we make hamburgers. As far as there being hormones and such in there, he said that is up to the supplier. Well... we all know how that works. :sigh:


Profit. Fatten them up fast, sell them quick. Profit.


I will continue to make as much as I can, from scratch. At least that way I know what my family is eating. I just know that it's not always going to be sugar in the raw, or organic, stone ground flour.

But I just won't compromise on the milk.

Ever.

How are you dealing with the rising grocery costs?

Frustrated

It's so hard to be a police officer, or even a police family, this day in time. No matter where you live, you have to deal with the tough criticism that comes from those that are not of like mind. I'm sure it is that way, with anything in life. I just feel, that lately, there are so many that have more negative things to say about police officers, in general. If they take on more training, they are readying against the American people. If they take on a hobby, with other police officers, they are becoming militarized. They can't win. I don't see this with other professions. I have read blogs, comments to news paper articles, and listened to this person or that one, say negative things about my husband, his boss, and their friends. It's hard. 


I know that my husband is out there doing his job, the best way he was trained. He is not dealing with kids that are not sharing their toys. He is dealing with criminals. People that have no respect for themselves, and much less for those in uniform. While some may thank him for the job that he (and his co workers) are doing, that is not the majority. He has been spat at, fought, called horrible names. He is treated with disrespect, on a daily basis. All because of the job he felt a strong calling to do. He is passionate about protecting the laws of the county and our state. He has taken an oath, to serve and protect. Serve and protect every citizen. Not just the good ones, he is obligated to serve, and protect, even those that call him a bastard, an asshole, and oh so much worse. He is not allowed to say anything back, or he will be out of line. He is to stand there, and take whatever verbal abuse the "civilian" has to give.  He is to serve and protect those that choose to strike him. If he defends himself, he is accused of abusing his position. If he does nothing, he is a coward. 


My husbands dedication to his job is impressive. There are times that I do not always understand. There are times... many times... that I wish he were a banker, or a garbage man, anything, just not a police officer. It is not because I am afraid, it is because I am selfish, and I want more time with him. 

The Mustache

For the past bit of time, the guys at work have been teasing my sweet Hubs about his perfectly groomed mustache. They have made videos wearing fake ones, given him tshirts with a mustache on the front, and even bumper stickers shaped like a mustache. Well, the boys and I decided it would be fun to tease him at home. So this its the result of that....but the best is yet to come....stay tuned.

Vegetable garden loot

This is all from our garden....we are very excited about this growing season. I'm not sure if we will have luck with cucumbers...they never seem to do well for me.... Will post more garden updates as they develop.

Rags to Riches

So I've had a desk chair at my nice little corner desk, in the school room, for pretty close to 8 years. Yes, the same chair.... for 8 years. This chair has served as a "merry go round" for my boys, an anchor for forts, and even, at times, a ladder, for me. It's been loved , and it was evident, from the looks of it, that this chair has been loved beyond measure. As with anything ugly, it was a chair only a mother could love. And I did. Because I am frugal. I honestly could NOT stomach the price of a new desk chair. Forget that the seat was held together by bright blue duct tape, and that the arm rests were missing part of the foam. Forget all that... it was still fully functional, and, it wasn't costing me any money. 

I have looked around, at times, for a new chair... but none were perfect enough for me, to drop close to a hundred bucks on a chair... for my desk.  I've had this toile fabric (central park, is the name of the design)  in my closet, for... oh I don't know... 10 years? BEAUTIFUL fabric.. I bought it on clearance, I remember... I did not have a project in mind, I just knew the fabric was so beautiful, and at a great price, and it must come home with me, so it did. 

Fast forward ten years.... I found the perfect project for this beautiful material. I must recover my loved desk chair... and I MUST DO. IT. RIGHT. NOW!

So, while the guys were watching "Fear Factor", I decided to bring my chair, and my fabric and needed tools, and cop a squat right in the middle of the living room. Because you do understand that family time is essential, right?


I started by disassembling the chair... once it was in several pieces, I realized there was no turning back now. I must push on.... and I did. So, after about two hours, I had recovered all necessary parts, with my spiffy toile fabric. (we can even call it vintage fabric, at this point, I mean, it IS 10 years old!) I used Hubs staple gun and attached the fabric to the seat, and the back rest. I used heavy duty fabric glue to attach the backside of the backrest. (and this covered the staples I used) I let that dry over night.. and reassembled my NEW VINTAGE DESK CHAIR this morning. I must tell you, it was so super easy, and now I have a chair that *I* am totally in love with!!! 

Due to the spontaneity that defines my existence, I failed to get before and during photos. I only have the after... but WOW!!! It's so beautiful. Hubs DID encourage me, and tell me that I should make these, and sell them. I will give that some thought. :) Since he rarely tells me something like that, I know that I did a great job on this project. 

I am me...

I always say that it is taking me a long time to become the person I want to be. While I know I am not perfect, I also know that I am not a horrible person either. I believe what I believe, and I stand for what I stand for. I make mistakes. I do feel the difference between me and other people, is that when I make a mistake, I can admit it. If I don't notice it right away, and it is pointed out to me, I can accept it, and hopefully learn from it, so as not to make that same mistake again. It's not easy.


Friendship.... that's something I don't take lightly. I have loved, and lost friends along the way. Some of those friends, I miss more than I could ever express. I have taken away valuable lessons from those relationships. These lost relationships have made me stronger, and also more guarded than I was before. I don't tolerate as much drama these days... in fact, I tend to avoid it all together.


I also know that I am not required to like everyone on this planet. Everyone has their own personality. Not all personalities jive. That's ok. I will try my best to find a common ground, to build a relationship from. If after trying and trying, you continue to show me that you are not genuine, then I know it's time to move on.


I am not a fan of gossip. I make this no secret. I don't talk bad about you, I would appreciate the same respect. If there is something that I feel I need to tell you, I will tell YOU. I won't tell someone else, and take the chance of it getting twisted, before it makes its way back to you. Because we all know that it WILL get twisted.




I am me... and in case you didn't know what that meant... hopefully now you do.