Reduce, Reuse, Recycle by HF

I need to get this out of the way first because I just know I’m going to run into what I’m about to relate to you more and more:


I love our fair planet and do what I can to keep it clean. I am not anti-environment.  Okay now that that's out of the way, on with the story.

The other night my Sergeant and I caught this college student walking around with two mountain bikes. Both the bikes had impound tags on them (the city impounds bikes that have been left on racks or out on the street for a specific period of time. The tags are a way of telling the owners that their bike is about to be impounded). So we stop the guy and ask him if the bikes belong to him. He slowly pulls out his cell phone and starts to call a buddy.

Bike Boy: “Hello, uh Bobby…”

Me: “Sir, please put your cell phone away. We’re talking to you right now.”

Bike Boy: “Uh who told us we could take impounded bikes?”

Me: “Sir, please put your cell phone away.”

Bike Boy: “The guy at the bike shop? Yeah, that’s right. Okay. Bye.”

Me: “Sir, are those your bikes?”

Bike Boy: “Well, kind of.”

Me: “What does that mean?

Bike Boy: “I found these bikes and they have these impound tags on them so I figured that I could take them and try to use the parts from both of them to make a new bike for myself.”

Me: “Sir that’s theft.”

Bike Boy: (appearing shocked) “What?!”

Me: “Yeah, if it doesn’t belong to you, you can’t take it. “

Bike Boy: (with righteous indignation) “But the city is just going to destroy them anyway! I’m doing the city and the environment a service by recycling them!”

Me: “The city doesn’t destroy the bikes sir. After a set period of time in impound they fix them up and either sell them to the public or donate them to needy children. The ones they can’t repair, they actually recycle. Please step over here…”

Okay what’s the deal with people citing their concern for the environment as justification for crime lately? First the scooter girl and now bike boy. People, if you are really concerned with the environment and you are frustrated with the speed, or lack thereof, with which your elected representatives are attacking the problem as you perceive it, please don’t start a life of crime in an effort to speed up the process. It just doesn’t work. For some reason I just know I’m going to see this excuse more and more.

Shoot, Don't Shoot (by HF)

The other night I had an experience where I had to decide whether or not to shoot someone.  I was sent to a business alarm in the middle of the night.  Fortunately on this night I had a cover officer available and he was en route to back me up.  I waited outside for him to arrive.  As I was waiting I saw two people exit the property.  I identified myself and told them to stop.  They looked at me and ran.  My back up officer was in the area about to arrive as I was chasing the two suspects.  I identified myself again and yelled at them to stop and show me their hands.  One of them did, and as she turned around with one hand up in the air, the other one was holding an elongated dark object the way one would hold a gun; and it was pointed at me. 

What happened next was nothing short of amazing.  Time seemed to slow down.  My body started to react automatically.  I stepped off-line as I drew my weapon.  I yelled "Police! Drop the weapon!"  I felt my arms punch out into my shooting platform and I watched as the object stayed in her hand.  In my mind I saw my wife and children and as I obtained my front sight focus and placed my finger on the trigger the last thing that went through my mind was, "I am going home to them tonight." 

As I began to take up the slack in the trigger I noticed a blurry dark object drop to the ground.  My eyes sprinted to the suspect and I saw that she had dropped what had been in her hand.  My finger let off the trigger and I ordered her to the ground.  She immediately complied and I scanned and breathed.  During my scan I saw that the other suspect was returning.  I ordered him to the ground and he complied as well.  My cover unit arrived and together we took the two into custody.

The dark object turned out to be an older cell phone.  I asked her why she had pointed it at me and she only replied that she didn't know.  Knowing what I now know of the suspect, I think she was so scared of being chased and then caught by the police that she had gone into mind-lock and just had frozen up.  It was dark enough that it was hard for me to see exactly what the object was, but there was enough ambient light for me to be able to see how she was holding it.

The strangest thing about the whole incident was how comfortable I felt when it was happening.  I actually felt relaxed.  During the academy I read Lt. Col. Grossman's book, On Combat  and I remember reading about this kind of thing, but I guess I never thought that it would happen to me.  I never thought I would be comfortable in the heat of it. 

I have gone over and over this event in my mind to figure out what I could have done better.  How I could have waited longer or just radioed ahead their direction of travel.  I guess I didn't expect them to stop.  I got excited when I saw them leaving, they were so close to where I was waiting.  But I am constantly being reminded that this job can be very unpredictable. 

I am grateful for that automatic response.  And I know who gave it to me.  I am grateful to those men for the time and effort they put into preparing me for that moment when I had to make that decision.  I am glad that I didn't have to squeeze that trigger, but I'm also glad for that final driving thought:

I am going home to them tonight.

HF :: dancing traffic cop

Someone called in about HF. But it wasn't a complaint. It was to give compliments! A few days ago, HF had to direct traffic after a college basketball game. This person was a pedestrian and was impressed with his traffic directing skillz. I thought that was hilarious. I asked him if he wiggled his butt while waving cars through. I also asked him if he did any breakdancing or Michael Jackson moves. He said that one of the cops in the department is known for his "moves" in the street. He gave HF a few pointers on how to put on a show. These pointers apparently paid off! He got the pedestrians involved by having them boo cars that didn't follow instructions and that sort of thing. I think having some fun while directing traffic helps to ease the after game tensions or just the overall moods of the passengers and pedestrians while they are stuck in traffic. I don't have a video to show you of HF directing traffic, but check out this retired cop, Tony Lepore, from Rhode Island and his dancing cop moves! I love it.

this and that

**update**
Police Wives:
Kate at Busted Plumbing
Natalie at Red Sox Mommy
Mel at Who Needs Sleep When You've Got Love?
A Police Officer's Wife has a cooking blog called, Cooking For a Cop.

This has been a very busy week. HF has been commuting all week to receive training. He is going to post intsructor school. Or whatever you call it. When he gets home at night he has a ton of homework! On top of that, he's also had to work a couple of special events. Then I'm an idiot and all needy this week for some reason, so I've been staying up super late with him-just to be with him. Then I don't even hear him leave in the morning and am up with the kids in the morning after sleeping maybe 4 hours. TIRED. Why do I keep doing this? The best thing he told me from his training this week has been what a SWAT guy has said. When they were introducing themselves, one burly guy got up and said that he tunes anyone out that is doing training about tactical stuff unless they are SWAT. He makes friends wherever he goes, and came home today with business cards from other cops from other agencies. Connections are nice aren't they?

What else. My van has been in the shop all week and I've been walking everywhere. I like it! On the way to walking my daughter to school, we see the little game the city has been playing with the local gang members. They tag an underpass, the city cleans it up the same day. The next day there is fresh graffitti over the paint job, and even more painting on top of that. I found out today that we have a graffitti hotline that we can call to report graffitti. I also found out today that in our state and I'm assuming in many other states that you can ride the city buses for free if you are law enforcement or the family of LEOs. I think I might take advantage of that. Not for my enjoyment, as our bus system is somewhat lousy, but I think the kids would be way excited about it.

HF and I went on a romantical date to a couple of police supply stores last weekend. In the first store, it was fun to see all the gear and uniforms. There was a young couple there being fit for his uniform for the first time. It hasn't even been a year that HF has been a full time officer, but it was nice to see another couple in the same spot we were under a year ago. The second store we went to, I waited in the car and watched the different types of cops go in and out. That was actually pretty fun. There are all kinds of cops guys. I love that you can tell when someone's a cop. What gives them away exactly? Of course, HF came out with someone he knew and they went to the trunk of a car and pulled out a rifle and fiddled with it for a while. I concentrated as hard as I could to send laser beam eyes of impatience his way. I think he felt it. He got in the car and we went to a Japanese market which was on my list of places I wanted to go.

It is only 8:30 pm here but everyone is in bed and that's where I'm headed. Such a good week to have behind us. HF has now completed his certified instructor course or whatever it is called.

MISTAAAAAKE!

Ever since I saw this clip on Scrubs a long time ago, whenever I make a mistake I hear the opera man singing, "MISTAAAAAKE!" in my head. Last night was one of those nights. HF mentioned to me casually, "Just so you know, the text messages you send me on my work phone are discoverable. So in a trial if my phone gets subpoenaed, any text messages are discoverable."

He let that sink in for a minute.

It only took a few seconds, but opera guy sang out, "MISTAAAAAKE!" loud and clear in my mind. I don't think I will ever send any "lovey dovey" texts ever again.

I don't know if my romantic texts would have any influence on a case involving HF, other than embarrassing us, but I did read this article over at Police One involving a case in New Mexico. I had never considered before that cell phone records could be used in court. If you talk to your loved one while he or she is on duty, do you have rules for what you can and cannot talk about?

job security

image found here

When I am browsing cop blogs, posts entitled, "job security" are usually describing a funny story dealing with a not so bright criminal or civilian. A lot of these laughs I get come from Motor Cop's blog and his dealings with many of his traffic stops.

The other night, there was a report of some guys driving around launching water balloons at unsuspecting pedestrians. They would hit people with balloons and then flip them off and yell obscenities at them. HF assisted with the call. To make a long story short, they all have court dates now. HF noticed the bucket in one of their trucks full of water balloons and also noticed that these guys weren't the sharpest tools in the shed, so he whipped out his phone and asked if he could take pictures of the inside of their vehicle. They almost seemed flattered at his asking and happily said, "Sure!" So he got some photographic evidence for the report. Then a couple of the guys got excited when they saw him taking pictures and asked, "Is this going to be in the newspaper?" HF thought fast and said, "Uh, yeah! Maybe!" So they all huddled together and asked him to take pictures of them. With their arms around each other, they did different poses and everything, even throwing in some of their own signature "gang" signs. The other officers that were with HF were trying not to laugh as HF took pictures. HF is pretty good at convincing people. Pretty much anytime he asks someone if he can look in their car, etc., they almost always say yes. I think it's his good looks. They really get him places.

I love when he responds to stuff like this. It's my favorite. Sure beats the other kind of stuff.

there really are good people out there (by HF)

The other day I was working a basketball game for a local University.  I was patrolling one of the concourses when a couple approached me and asked me if I would be willing to do something for them.  I asked them how I could be of service and they showed me a little T-shirt. 

"There's this little boy in our section and he's in a wheel chair.  He looks pretty disabled and he's here with just his mom.  We thought it would be cool if you presented him with this T-shirt on behalf of the school."

I asked the couple how they knew the boy and his mother and they exclaimed that they didn't know them at all and wanted me to give him the T-shirt so their gift would be anonymous.  I was touched.  I agreed and we walked together toward their section in the stands.  As we got closer I told another officer what we were about to do.  He pulled out a "junior police officer" sticker and handed it to me. 

"Deputize him while your at it!" he said.

When we arrived at the couple's section, they quickly made their way back to their seats and watched from above.  The other officer and I made our way to the little boy in the wheel chair and his mother.  When we arrived I introduced us and addressed the boy,

"The university would like to thank you for coming to support the team and would like to give you this special T-shirt. We would also like to make you a junior police officer today." 

I handed his mother the badge and she placed it on her son's chest.  Her eyes welled up with tears and she thanked us for doing what we did.  As I walked away I glanced up at the couple who had given me and this little family this wonderful gift.  I waved and they tearfully smiled back at me.

Earlier that day I had been feeling pretty dark about the state of the world.  I was wondering if there really were any decent people left in the world.  Then this happened.  My faith in humanity was restored.  I never got a chance to thank the couple after the game for their wonderful act of anonymous kindness.  I never got to thank them for giving me the opportunity to be the face of their simple act of kindness.  I have no doubt that this will have positive after effects for our department.  Where ever you are, thank you.  Thank you for giving me the opportunity to do this wonderful thing.  You made me and my department look heroic that day.  You guys are the real heroes and I will always remember what you did.

fighting

Recently I discovered another Police blog, Cop Mama. She's been a cop for 15 years and is also the mom to two very small boys. She blogs a little about everything and I've been enjoying reading. A few days ago I read her post, This Is How WE Fight. She posted a conversation she had with her husband via text messages that could've easily escalated into a fight and she shows how her husband used humor to defuse the situation and later when they talked they both agreed that they should use humor more often. She then asked her readers, "what tools have YOU and your spouse found to defuse an argument?"

Humor, for us, is really helpful in dissolving a potential fight. In my opinion, this has always been one of our strengths as a couple. I can think of a few specific examples:

ME: I am so angry with you right now. I really don't want to be, but it's just so easy to be sometimes.

HF: That's why it's so hard being a super hero. The moment you do something human, everyone turns on you.

He always says these sort of dumb things, but no matter how angry I am, it usually makes me crack up, or at least smile. When I laugh or smile, he usually keeps it up and smothers me with affection so we can talk in a more loving and respectful manner about the problem.

One day during dinner I was furious with HF for something (must've not been very important because I can't even remember what it was now) and I got up to get the milk out of the fridge. Behind the kids' backs I gave HF a death glare. He stopped eating, dropped his fork and said, "Oh no you di'int". He was out of his chair and chasing me in a split second. I was so surprised by this that I actually screamed and ran up the stairs laughing. I was also unsure of what he was going to do. He came after me and tackled me on our bed where we ended up kissing. I was no longer angry at him and we could talk rationally about what had caused my anger towards him.

Most recently, HF looked at me and noting my look of disappointment, he said, "You think I'm hot, don't you." I didn't say anything. He said again, "you think I'm cute, huh." I finally smiled and said, "Yes. I do." Then he added, "It's impossible for you to be mad at me right now because I'm so cute." Again, he made me laugh and shake my head at him. And he uses that one about his looks when I'm especially angry. We could be totally having it out and he'll say, "Even though you are yelling at me right now, you can't help but think how hot I look in these jeans. You are so attracted to me right now. You want me don't you." How can you stay angry and fighting with someone who randomly says something like that to you.

We've been fighting. In fact, we have had a couple of what I consider to be real doozies lately. What it comes down to is the change in HF in regards to his communication style mostly. He seems so angry all the time and there is no reasoning with him. No one likes to be told when they are wrong, etc. That causes one to become defensive. We've been told that this is normal for every cop early on and that it goes away with time. I tend to believe more along the line that it's still a decision that you make to be angry and it won't go away with time unless you deal with it appropriately. I'm not very sympathetic to the whole "I'm acting this way because of . . . " stuff. If you know how to act and what's appropriate, then you just do it! I understand that he is going to change, but no matter how much reading I do about how becoming a cop affects your loved one, I expect him to communicate with me in a better way and sit down with me so we can both talk about it. I also know that I can't make him do what I want him to do. He knows what's right and he's an adult. I know he has the tools, and I know he knows what I expect. I know he wants the same thing as I do. It's the same for me as well when I am struggling and need to change.

While I'm not worried and hopeless about our relationship, I am impatient and frustrated with the slowness of change. After a day of fighting, sometimes I think how can I make this right. How can I make things better. How can I nurture love and forgiveness in our relationship. I suspect he's asking himself the same things. We both end up texting each other apologies and hugging it out when he comes home. Or sometimes it's not until we're in bed and the silence is too much for us to bear and we end up inching towards one another until our feet are tangled up together. It doesn't solve the problems. It doesn't make all the anger and hurt go away, but we love each other and neither of us like how it feels when there is tension between us.

I guess what bothers me the most is that HF has always been a lover not a fighter. That is something that drew me to him early on. He is very forgiving and I am not that way. I am a fighter and don't want to forgive so easily. Lately I have realized how much I have relied on this strength of his. I have always seen him as a very Christ-like person, which is how I would like to be. I also realized that it's always HF and not me that uses humor when angry. He's the one that makes things better when we are fighting. That's why his suddenly being a fighter instead of a lover has got us all in disarray. I expect him to be the one to make it better. I've never known him to turn the tables on me.

I'm not writing this as a plea for help or for advice. I'm just putting it out there more as a conversation starter because I think we all have our times of disconnect in our relationships. I think that certain professions such as being a police officer adds strain at various times throughout the relationship as well. We are still adjusting to this lifestyle. HF is still adjusting to his job and the responsibility that that entails. I guess what I'm saying is we are all going to fight in one way or another and how we fight affects the path that we will travel in our relationships. Without humor making an appearance in our fights, I don't know how we would forgive one another and move on stronger and wiser as we grow old together. Granted it doesn't always work, but it really does most of the time.

What are your stories? How do you keep a fight from escalating?

In my best Linda Richman accent (Mike Meyers in SNL's Coffee Talk), "I'm all verklempt. Talk amongst yourselves!"

P.S. Today is one of HF's days off. He spent it not being able to get out of bed and then going with his partner to another officer's house to go through all his Vietnam era junk that his wife was making him get rid of and brought home a bunch of new crap which I asked him if he knew where he was going to keep it. He said he would find a place and that I wouldn't even see it. I told him it better be a room of requirement (Harry Potter reference). Then after making dinner for three screaming children and dealing with them all day on my own and getting them to bed, he puts in an episode of the Backyardigans because he has "one of their songs stuck in his head and this is the only way to get it out". Talk about making me angry! :)

maybe you had to be there, but I thought it was pretty funny

Tonight began like most nights. HF is on his new schedule (7p to 3a), so he was getting ready to go to work. He was shaving in the bathroom upstairs and I was getting the bath ready for our 14 month old. Then things turned into a scene straight from Full House where Uncle Jesse and Uncle Joey are left to tend baby Michelle with a poopy diaper. You know how these scripted scenes go. They end up doing something like putting on oven mitts and helmets and they wrap her up in a plastic grocery bag and secure it with duct tape. Anyway, I removed Beau's diaper and discovered that he had pooped. I had already filled the bathtub and didn't want to put him in there and he began squirming big time. So I held him up in the air while HF ran and grabbed the wipes and tried to wipe him while he was thrashing about. I held him above my head to see if HF had missed a spot, while HF bent over to inspect the ground. I wasn't paying attention to what HF was doing and as I lowered Beau, I unknowingly wiped his butt on HF's head. HF let out a groan and yep, you guessed it. There was poop on HF's head. I got the giggles really bad while HF plunged his head into the tub and had to do a quick wash. All the while HF is proclaiming, "You wiped his butt on my head! I can't believe you wiped his butt on my head!" All I could do was laugh. I'm still laughing about it. The baby was also laughing through all this. So hopefully this little escapade didn't make him late or flustered for work. I haven't had a good laugh in a while and I needed one. So thank you HF for providing that opportunity.

how becoming a cop has changed HF

I'm back from the Christmastime festivities. The Little Tikes Police car that HF so painstakingly put together on Christmas Eve was a mega hit with not only the baby, but with the other two. Unfortunately I didn't realize that one of our dear children had put a fingerprint on our lens until after I took all the Christmas pictures, so they all have a foggy sort of look to them. I have a lot of blog reading I've missed out on, and I discovered that when someone emails me or leaves a comment that it goes directly to my spam folder. It's weird. So sorry to everyone that I have not responded to. I haven't been ignoring you, but I will do my best to reply in the coming week. And Handcuffed Heart, I will be emailing you tomorrow about the kid stuff like I ought to have long ago.

Now for the hot topic: I noticed a recent comment on an old post. Here's an excerpt:

"my boyfriend is applying to the local police academies. i knew he was meant for this job before he did and he's so passionate about it he's already started training himself so hell be ready lol. im a nurse so we are both used to my weird hours (usually 11p-7a) and being very passionate about my work (not to mention sharing the grossest and saddest details of my job) do you have ne advice for us when it comes to the transition he will undertake and how it will effect our relationship? i know people have said that some people change as they become cops and i want to know what kind of change i might see."

I know I've touched on this in previous posts, mostly in a humorous fashion, but I've been paying attention to the changes I've seen in HF since the academy days. I've never been sure of how to word it other than when I'm making light of the changes, but in all seriousness, this is my attempt at addressing the not-so-good changes that have occurred in my LEO. There have been, and still are, times where I'm not sure if this is a change I'm seeing in HF or if it's a fluke, but I know HF has changed. Remember, HF reads my blog, so let me preface this with a declaration of how much I adore HF and think so highly of him. He is, in my opinion a man with few faults and he makes me very happy. Here is some of what I included in an email to this reader above:

Grumpiness: During the academy, I noticed that HF started to be grumpy quite a bit. This is really uncharacteristic for him. At first I didn't say anything because I thought it was just some random behavior because of stress in the academy, lack of sleep and adrenaline dumps, or maybe difficult subject matter he was learning about. Probably some of everything. I started calling him on it because I realized that it was becoming everyday ordinary behavior. He still has occasional grumpiness that makes me think it's me or something I've done, but he works hard to fix it and deal with stress appropriately. That brings up. . .

Communication: Every relationship experiences its ups and downs with communication no matter how well you know each other or get along. Since HF has become a cop, I have noticed the way he communicates with me has changed. He tends to use the communication techniques learned in training on me and the kids sometimes. I don't like it. Sometimes he does it playfully, but sometimes it's to get the answers he is looking for immediately. I can't think of an example off the top of my head, but sometimes I get the feeling I'm being interviewed much like someone off the streets he deals with. I guess communication kind of goes along with impatience. He is direct and to the point much more than ever before and wants me and the kids and anyone else he deals with off duty to be the same and not "jerk him around". It probably doesn't help that I roll my eyes at his attempts to communicate this way. He usually sees what he's doing and stops and/or sees that it is ineffective with his family. 

Impatience: Much more impatience with me and the kids! When we talked about this with each other, he realized that he was indeed being impatient and the way he described it was like he was used to people doing what he said when he said it (complying) and you can't expect small children to really comply, you know? At least not the first time you ask. And you can't expect your wife to comply either, can you? :) I try to make life as easy for him as possible like he does for me, but to see him go from laid back without a care in the world to Mister "hurry up and do what I say and be direct" is kind of startling. It has its usefulness at times, but I see that he has a load on his shoulders to figure out how to balance his personal and family life with his "other" life.


Intense and Paranoid: We can't go anywhere without HF seeing trouble. He has to park a certain way, he has to look over his shoulder, look for escape routes, sit in a certain spot at a restaurant or at church, stand guard like a body guard when I'm getting into the car or helping the kids into their seats. The gun goes everywhere. It's like a big production when he gets dressed. The badge, the 2 wallets, the gun, the right clothes to conceal gun, etc. It drives me crazy. The fact that he has to do this is not the issue, but when I just want to go out and enjoy his company and he's constantly watching his back, sometimes it's like, "hello? Are you listening to me?". I've heard that this is normal rookie cop behavior and that he'll settle down a bit with time, but sometimes I just want him to myself and I don't want him to have to worry about anything else. Knowing HF, he'll never be complacent and will always be on edge, but it's a little tense sometimes!

Language: This isn't in regard so much to cop terms and lingo, but he never used to swear or tell crude jokes or stories, but he will now! He does a lot of editing for me because I'm a sensie, but still, it's one of those things that have changed.

Most of these things I've mentioned are things he doesn't even realize he's doing until it's brought to his attention. And like I said, he works hard to fix things that could become bad habits. I would say that it is a lot more hard work that is being put into our relationship and family since he has become a cop.

Becoming a cop changes you. It may not be drastic, it may not be in the same way as it is for others, but I would love to hear from any readers. In what ways have you or your cop changed? I'm looking for the good, the bad, and the ugly. I know it would be greatly appreciated to those seeking answers, myself included. In another post I would like to address ways you cope and even thrive despite all of the changes.

Cops And Peace Officers (By HF)

Recently I had a conversation with an older sergeant in my department.  He spoke to me about how he believed  there exists different types of police officers.  He said,

"There are cops and then there are peace officers.  Which one are you?"

I wondered what he meant.  He told me about when he was a young man and was more inclined to chase down everything, go after everyone, and generally be a super cop.  As he got older and more experienced he related to me how he changed and developed the ability to slow down and let certain things go.

"The mark of a true warrior is knowing when to slow down or stop when the situation dictates," he said.

He mentioned that the difference between a cop and a peace officer is not just a cut and dry, black and white division; rather, it is more of a continuum.  He asked me to think about what it means to be a peace officer vs a cop and to figure out where I'm at on this continuum.  As I was walking out of his office, he said to me,

"You'll always be a cop.  You're a cop down to your soul and you always will be.  A peace officer is something truly special that every cop can become."

I respect this sergeant immensely and love listening to his stories about policing in the "old days."  He has done just about everything in his career and has the respect of all of the officers in our department.  I think about our conversation every night as I try to figure out what it means to be a peace officer and a cop.  I have found that when I think about the idea of a peace officer, I am less inclined to take things personally and more patient.  This does not mean that I am more willing to give people inappropriate leeway.  I think I'll always be a "cop," as this sergeant has said, but I find myself striving for something more now.  I want to be a better person, a better police officer, a better husband, father, brother, son, a better man.

In the academy they told us about the brotherhood that we would be joining if we made it through.  I just never realized that it would be this special and this powerful.  I'm still so new and the job is really intense for me each night, but I'm having the time of my life.  I'm still trying to figure out what this sergeant was telling me as I try to define what a peace officer means.  I have a feeling it's going to take a while but I look forward to more conversations with more "old sergeants," for many years to come.

things are not always as they appear. . .

Yesterday I was excited to receive this box in the mail. Someone sent us cookies! Well, HF opened it up and this is what was inside (a 100 points to whoever knows what it is. I sure don't):Then last night, I saw this box in our closet up on a shelf, and I thought, "Yum! Multi-Grain crackers!" Nope.
This is what was inside:
Pistol cartridges. I called HF up. He had been at work for an hour or so. I asked him if there were any grenades or gun powder or anything else I should know about in our food storage. He said the pantry was safe. He said that a lot of gear is shipped inconspicuously like in the cookie box on purpose. Also, our bedroom closet shelf has slowly evolved from where we put our towels and sheets. . . to gear. It has taken over the closet shelf completely. You never know what's going to fall and hit you in the head from that shelf. The last incident, I had reached on my tippy toes to get a towel and a cartridge struck me in the forehead. I finally said something to him about putting it back in the gear closet I so lovingly cleaned out for his use. He was nice and cleaned it up right away and now the only thing I can see up there is my red ryder bb gun he got me for Christmas a couple of years ago.

Do you have stashes like this around the house? He is quickly being called a "gear whore" at work.

cleaning guns and watching the princess diaries is pretty manly. Right?

One night HF sat down by me to clean his guns while I watched a movie. A preview came on for The Princess Diaries 2, and he stopped what he was doing, looked up, and said, "Princess Diaries 2? Oh, I want to see that. I really liked the first one." I looked over at him suspiciously. Then I remembered that he once stayed up all through the night to finish the 6 hour BBC version of Pride and Prejudice while I on the otherhand had passed out sometime during the first hour. He seemed so groggy the next morning and I asked him if he had slept well. He seemed a little embarrassed when admitting he had actually stayed up to finish the whole set. "I had to finish it!"

Don't worry, we still watch Steven Segal, Chuck Norris, Red Dawn, and anything else that has explosions, fighting, etc. And it's just as fulfilling. What can I say? He's a well-rounded guy. I roll my eyes at the Steven Segal type movies, but I do enjoy the cheesy one-liners. So I keep my ears open for that. His latest obsession is documentaries. About anything and everything. I enjoy that immensely as well, but sometimes I am just really not in the mood for the life and times of Benjamin Franklin. Sometimes he uses documentaries as a discipline technique for the children:

HF: If you don't stop screaming, I will sit you down in front of the tv and make you learn! I will make you watch Rick Steves Best of Europe.

Daisy: Noooo!!! I don't want to learn!!! I promise I won't scream anymore!

HF's first complaint

After reading Sandra's post, Today's Would-Be Hostage, I was reminded of a recent incident involving HF. A few weeks ago, HF and his partner heard gun shots in the area they were in. They moved towards them and HF deployed his AR-15. It was 0030 hrs (I asked HF what the military time for 12:30 am was. I didn't actually know it. I just wanted to sound cool). Anyway, the shots came from an apartment complex and HF and his partner began searching for the gunman. HF was wearing his rifle across his body ("on sling") with his finger off the trigger. As they were clearing the area, they would tell people to go back inside if they came wandering out. It was relatively quiet because of the time of night. Everyone complied and no one seemed to know where the shots had come from exactly, but it was nearby.

A girl came out and HF identified himself and told her what they were doing and to go back inside. She said, "who are you?" He identified himself again. She said, "Are you supposed to be a police officer?" Are you kidding me?!

This is where it got ridiculous. She was demanding to see identification, arguing with him and asking over and over why she needed to go back inside, etc. HF didn't have time for this, but more forcefully made her go back inside to which she yelled, "Fine!"

After HF left, she called 911 to see if he was really a cop. She ended up filing a complaint and wanted to meet with the chief. At first we didn't know what on earth she had to complain about. Turns out she didn't think he was a cop because she had never seen a cop with a rifle before and it threw her off. She didn't think that cops should have rifles. I think it's fine if you want to call 911 and verify a situation, but go back inside! Even if he was a fake cop, wouldn't it be wise to go back inside? I always knew that there were "special" people milling about the city, but ever since HF became a cop, I now know there really are lots of "special" people milling about. More than I could have imagined. The chief backs HF up 100%. He said it was appropriate that he pull out the rifle and that he would've done the same thing in that situation. Oh, and she didn't like that he was mean to her (after repeated attempts to have her go inside and her not complying).

HF has already qualified with his AR-15, but yesterday, he had an unexpected test. He thought he was just going to shoot at the range, but when he got there, they had him do various obstacles while shooting his rifle. One officer attacked him, punching and kicking, to see if he could still shoot at a target. He said that he didn't miss one target. He at least hit the blue area.

HF also has his first court appearance this week to testify for a criminal case. He's a little nervous about that since he hasn't done it yet. Only practice scenarios in the academy.

In other "firsts" news, our 1 year old took his first official steps this week.

what i found in the dryer part V

Zip Tie Cuff. I guess I should change the name of this series of posts to "what i found in the laundry" because I'm getting pretty good at searching pockets and clothing for random objects before it gets thrown in the washer. Mostly now, just matchbox cars and rocks are getting through. Find anything interesting lately?

Previously found in the dryer posts

HF: Rad instructor

red man suit image found here

HF made it home a couple of days ago from R.A.D. training. He is now a certified instructor. He said it was life changing. Any preconceived notions he had about why women didn't defend themselves were changed in the training he received. He came home with an increased level of sympathy for survivors of sexual assault and rape.

I didn't realize how physical it would be. My husband came home to me with scratches and bruises all over his body. Part of me feels a little upset. It's a great thing he's a part of, but my already tired and sore husband is going to have over 40 women kick him in the crotch and then he comes home to me only to have to go to work for the graveyard shift? Are you kidding me?

On the one hand, it's a concern of mine that HF will be sacrificing his body for this and potentially having his neck and his privates broken. On the other hand, I'm a big supporter of the R.A.D program and I plan on attending a class, so I understand the necessity behind what he will have to do as an instructor.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with what R.A.D is, check it out here.

My First Death (by HF)

Last night I was dispatched to a medical call that was occurring in an area that I happened to be patrolling in. The call came over the air as an infant that was unconscious and not breathing. The dispatcher informed me that the paramedics were en route but were several minutes out. I arrived at the home within seconds. The door was open and I could hear people screaming and crying inside. I ran in and instantly saw a little baby boy on the floor. He looked like he was asleep but his skin told me otherwise. I have spent years training and re certifying in CPR but it wasn't until last night that I ever had to use it. Everything around me became silent and I felt myself turn into a machine. Without thinking about it I knelt down by the baby and began infant CPR.

I was later told that I did CPR for about 6 minutes before the paramedics arrived and assumed patient care. The paramedics got there and instantly started to do what they do best while I backed off and watched. They transported the child to the ER and he was later pronounced dead.

When I was a dispatcher I heard recorded calls of hysterical mothers calling 911 to get help for their dying children. I had even handled several similar calls. Last night was a first though. My first time doing CPR. My first time being there when the tragedy was unfolding instead of on the phone. My first death. I remember seeing my own son in that little boy as I was performing CPR on him. I remember talking to him during chest compressions, telling him to "come back." I remember seeing the parents at the hospital and seeing the raw uncontrollable sadness in their beings. I remember sucking it all in and looking like I was keeping it all together.

Immediately following this call, I was sent to a noise disturbance. It was a report of some guy playing his guitar outside his apartment complex at 2 in the morning. Suddenly this seemed so trivial and stupid. I arrived and was still probably visibly upset. I saw the guy, jumped out of my car, and yelled, "Hey! What are you doing?"

He looked surprised and exclaimed, "uh, I'm just playing my guitar man."

I was trying hard to contain my anger. A baby just died and this guy thought he was the most important thing in the world. "I understand multiple people have asked you to stop playing and you have refused. Now it's two o'clock in the morning and you're still out here. What the hell is your problem?" I demanded.

He looked at me like he was about to start crying. "This guitar is my most prized possession and I have to sell it tomorrow. I just wanted to get as much playing in until I lose it in the morning."

I looked at him and I instantly understood. I've played the guitar for fifteen years. I knew this guy wasn't trying to be a jerk. He had a deep and unmet need that he was trying to fulfill. The only problem was that he was fulfilling it at the expense of others.

I softened my approach and I asked him to tell me more about his guitar. I expressed my appreciation for such a beautiful instrument and let him show me all its features. He stopped playing and just sat there dejected. He was a local college student. I told him that even though he had to sell his guitar now, someday he would be able to buy another one just like it. He admitted that he had known this all along but he just didn't want to admit it. I told him that he needed to let it go and move on. I told him that playing out in the bitter cold wasn't good for it anyway and he agreed. He thanked me for being so understanding and went back into his apartment for the night.

When the shift finally slowed down my sergeant came to me and, together with the other officers who had seen this kind of thing before, we had a debriefing. When I expressed to my sergeant that it was as if it were my own baby, he said, "No. It was not your baby. It was a doll. It was the CPR doll that you practice on in training. We've all been there. The first time is the hardest, but you have to remember that you were doing this on the CPR doll and you did it perfectly, and you will do this over, and over, and over again throughout your career."

I remember coming home and checking on our three kids. I had to wake the baby up to make sure he was breathing. He cried and Mrs. Fuzz woke up. Then I told her what happened. Together we stayed up much of the night, talking about it. I am grateful to have such a supportive wife. She understands me and knows how to approach me.

Last night's ordeal was not an easy one at all, but I cannot imagine how things might be for me right now if I did not have such a strong spouse in it with me. I have vowed to come home after every shift. To survive, and to win every battle, and that includes my own mental health. I thank my amazing wife for being there and listening to me last night, as I cried like a baby, when I needed her the most.

I don't know if I'll ever see that family again. I don't know if they even knew I was there. If they do see me again in passing, I doubt they'd even recognize me. I hope that they'll be okay. I can't imagine the pain they're going through right now and I admit that I feel guilty taking comfort in the fact that my kids are safe and sound. I wish them the best and I hope they stay together and can work through the grief that will inevitably follow them the rest of their lives.

an update

*tap, tap* Is this thing on?

You may have noticed that I'm not around as much as I have been in times past. Life for us has been a little nuts lately. We are trying to get more organized instead of just merely surviving.

I have loads to blog about, HF has work stories to share, so stay tuned for that! Exciting, yes. I also have lots of blogs to get caught up on reading.

HF is being sent out of state soon for training to become a R.A.D. instructor. For those of you unfamiliar with R.A.D., it stands for Rape Aggression Defense. I think this is the organization's main website. He is excited about that. He will miss our 1 year old's first birthday, but that's okay, because we are going to do what many have told us to do. Celebrate his birthday when HF gets home the next day. These little holiday/celebration switcheroos take some adjusting to. Anyway, I think R.A.D. is great. I might take a class if he's teaching it.

We had a mini planning session for October. HF has Sundays and Mondays off, but if you work graves you know that the first half of Sunday will be spent sleeping, and then staying up later than you should because you're "not tired", and then you stay up late together "partying" and then Monday is a busy day, but you're really tired because of your late night Monday, and then you are stupid and stay up late again, and then Tuesday you have to go to bed in the afternoon so that you can stay up all night come nighttime. So his 2 days off feel somewhat hectic and out of balance. We vow each week that we will go to bed early so that we can make the next day worthwhile. I told him this morning when the alarm went off again for the 4th time that we aren't wild, young, and free any more and that because we have kids this behavior needed to stop. He mentioned that next weekend he wants to play airsoft. If you've read this blog for a while, you may remember that I've mentioned once or twice an extreme distaste towards airsoft. I clenched my teeth and began clicking my pen. Then he said all upbeat, "I went ahead and took Saturday night off too, so it will be like having a 3 day weekend. I said without any hesitation, "done.", and marked it on the calendar. He said, "I knew you'd go for that."

Another wonderful adjustment to our schedule is HF stays up when he gets home until 8:30 am. He gets the kids their breakfast and gets our 6 year old to school while I get up and exercise (ideally) and sort of shuffle about and get ready for the day. HUGE lifesaver for me. Makes all the difference in the world. He now gets up around 4 pm. Which is fine by me. We have dinner together and spend some family time together and he can help get the kids to bed. This isn't always the case. Twice a week he has a night class, but he's still home in time to put kids to bed.

Next task: scheduling real life, out of the house, dating.

HF works closely with an older sergeant during his shift that he has come to respect and love. Recently, this sergeant told HF that he really likes him a lot, and that he talks about him to his wife all the time, that he reminds him of himself many years ago when he was first starting out, that he likes the way he thinks, the way he speaks, the way he writes his reports, the way he handles any given situation, and that HF was the son he never had. I thought these were wonderful compliments coming from this guy. He also mentioned that he would like to go out on double dates with us. I think that would be a lot of fun. Which brings up the dating issue again . . . and the need for babysitting . . .

Have any of you ever double dated with other officers (or superiors) and their significant others?

That's all I have for now.

Traffic Stop/Driver's Ed (posted by HF)

The other night I was out patrolling when I witnessed a blue Saturn come careening down a hill without it's headlights on. I followed the car and lit it up. The car slowed down to 15 mph but did not stop. Suddenly I was in my first pursuit. At 15 mph. I followed the car for 3 city blocks, calling out it's location and direction of travel. Finally it came to an intersection and stopped at a red light. I approached the car and she started to open her door. I closed the door and told her to open her window. Something was not right. I didn't get the "I'm a criminal vibe," from her. She was a short Chinese woman who had a confused look on her face. She cracked the door open again and leaned out to speak to me. Her English was good,

"Are you pulling me over?" she asked.

"Yes. Did you see my lights in your rearview mirror? Did you hear the siren?"

"Yes, but I thought you were trying to get by me."

"No, I was trying to get you to pull over because your headlights are out."

"No they're not!"

"Ma'am they are."

"No they're not!"

I asked her to step out of her car and take a look for herself. She stepped out onto the sidewalk and pointed to her running lights.

"See! I told you they were on!" she shouted, pointing at her amber running lights.

I motioned to her headlights and explained that those were the headlights and were required to be on at night. She started explaining to me that she only used those lights during the day so that people could see her. She attempted to justify running without them on at night when she said,

"If I turn these on at night I will blind everyone and cause accident!"

I told her to get back into her car. I held the door open for her as she complied and rolled the window down.

"Put your hands on the steering wheel at a9 and 3," I instructed. Surprisingly she understood this concept and obeyed. "Okay, now do you see this lever on the left?"

She nodded her head. "I want you to turn the dial at the end of it so that the line is on the little headlight." She turned the dial and her headlights came alive.

"See how bright they are officer? I blind everyone if I leave these on," she protested.

"Hold that thought ma'am. I want you to now push the lever out away from you until it clicks. The high beams erupted.

"oh," she gasped.

"Now pull the lever back to towards you and see what happens." She complied and the lights went dimmer. I reached inside and pushed the lever again. "These are what's called your high beams." I clicked the lever back again, "these are your low beams. Look around. See all these cars driving around us?"

She nodded her head.

"They are all using their headlights. When there's nobody around you can use the high beams. When on coming traffic appears, you need to switch to your low beams. Your high beams might blind someone momentarily but your low beams won't hurt anyone."

She looked totally dejected. I could tell the fight was gone from her and she looked up at me.

"I am so sorry officer. I thought I was following the rules."

"Have you ever been pulled over before?" I asked.

"No, never," she responded.

"Okay, now that we've cleared the headlights matter up I need some information." I asked for the usual documents and instructed her not to get back out of her car. Dispatch confirmed that she was a college student from China, and everything came back clear. I returned to her car and began lesson number two.

"Okay, is this a new car?" I asked.

"Yes I just got it one month ago."

"Okay, do you know how to use your windows?"

She looked at me sheepishly, "no."

"Okay, this button rolls your windows up and down. When you see red and blue lights in your rear view mirror," I pointed to her mirror, "you need to slow down, pull to the right and stop."

"But what if he wants to talk to me?" she asked.

"If the officer is stopping you, you'll know because he'll walk up to your window. If not, then he'll drive by you, grateful that you got out of the way."

"Okay," she said, seeming to grasp the concept.

"Now if an officer stops you, you need to roll down your window so you don't have to open your door to talk to him or her."

"You want me to stay in my car? I thought I would help by talking outside of my car."

I shook my head and she looked even more dejected as the realization came to her that she had the wrong idea of what cops in the United States wanted.

"You need to stay in your car for many reasons. If you get out, you could get hit by another car and we don't want that. We want you to be safe. So stay in your car. It's our job to walk back and forth so let us serve you. All you have to do is just stay in the car and wait for us to do what we need to do. Okay?"

"Okay."

I could tell she was starting to feel a little better. She struck me as the kind of person that truly wanted to "follow the rules," and was devastated to learn that she had not been. I wondered how she ever obtained a license but it was valid and she was committed to driving with her headlights on.

"Okay, this is your first traffic stop. So now that you understand the rules, I'm going to let you go without giving you a ticket. I think we've made some real progress tonight wouldn't you?"

She nodded in relief.

"All right, you drive safe okay?"

I got back in my car and watched as she drove away. I never thought that I would be giving someone an impromptu drivers ed class on how to use your headlights and how to handle being pulled over. When she started to get out of the car, all my combat instincts seemed to go on alert but it was quickly clear that she was not looking for trouble. This was definitely one of my weirder traffic stops so far.

I hope she does better with her PhD. classes then drives.

what i found in the dryer part IV

I thought this was a funny find. I found a pen (which no longer works because I washed it) and this CIA pin. When I asked him where he got this, he playfully acted like he was hiding something, "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Turns out another officer had a few of them and was like, "want this? Here you go!" Why would you have a bunch of CIA pins on hand if you aren't in the CIA? Unless he really is affiliated. . . I'm extra suspicious right now because I've been watching ALIAS and I want to be Sydney Bristow. Another item to toss into his top dresser drawer AKA: the junk drawer. I'll have you know it's full of tape cassette players like walkmans, mini tape players, etc. I should take a picture of all his devices. And he uses them! I don't get it. I just don't get it.