Black Badge

If you're a part of the blue-blood family, you just get it. You know too well the uncertainties of each day. Your life is the definition of unpredictable.

For those who aren't, the world just keeps spinning, without missing a beat. Meanwhile, I'm at my desk at work wondering what the hours of tonight have in store for my family. Why hasn't he called me in three hours? I wonder if he's eaten today. What if something happened. Lord, I hope he walks through that door tonight.

It never ends.

Days like today don't make it any easier. Days when I'm cooking breakfast and turn around to see my husband dressed for work - boots polished, collar brass in place, vest strapped on tightly.. and that awful black stripe across the badge he wears so proudly. I've seen him wear it three times. Today, in honor of Sgt. Kerry Mitchum of LPD, in September 2013 in honor of Cpl. Mike Stockwell with OBPD, and then there's the first time I ever saw it. November 2012 in honor of our very own Scott J. Ward. Every time I see it, it starts all over again - the queasy feeling in the lowest part of my stomach, followed by a knot in my throat so heavy you're not really sure you can squeak out a single word. The dread, the worry, the sadness. Picturing a family in mourning, just as mine was - and still is - after losing someone so incredible so soon. The complete rock-bottom feeling you get when you think of what's ahead for so many in order for them to move forward. 

When my husband and I attended National Police Week 2013 in Washington D.C., we were both so eerily quiet during our last night there. While laying in bed, we were both thinking the same thing and neither wanted to say it. 

There are so many officers on duty right now whose families will be here next year. 

It gives me chills.

Isn't it unsettling to know that these men and women finish their training at the police academy and receive their agency's uniform, complete with a thin, black little piece of fabric to go over their badges in case one of their own is killed in the line of duty. Unbelievable. 

That tiny little piece of fabric is a huge symbol for the brotherhood that is law enforcement. When one hurts, all hurt with them. I've never seen anything like it. 

My husband and I have friendships that stretch across the U.S. because of this crazy law enforcement life we live. They're friends who mail Christmas cards with pictures of their precious families on them, friends who send us a basket full of monogrammed goodies for our beautiful little girl, and friends who call every year on November 23rd just because they understand. For those dear friendships, we are incredibly grateful. 

I didn't choose this chaotic life, but I certainly wouldn't trade the family that comes along with it.

Daycare is A-OK care

My child goes to daycare, and that's okay with me.

That's the plan, and it's been the plan since before she was born. Of course I'd love to be financially able to stay home with her everyday. And I could, if my husband and I wanted the bare minimum for our family. But we'd rather live comfortably and be able to give her our absolute best.

I hear such strong opinions about how daycare is bad, and see the stay-at-home moms post their feelings on social media about crazy daycare workers who abuse children. No, if I didn't know my child's caregivers, I wouldn't leave her there. I would never leave her with a complete stranger. Trust me, they'd have to pass a background check and a few (dozen) surprise visits from the hubs. But I do know the fantastic ladies who take care of my sweet girl each weekday, and they're playing a huge part in her life.

I feel like keeping her at home with me would be doing her an injustice. Children are such sponges. They absorb everything, even at the youngest age. I want her to learn from people - not just her father and me. She has to listen to people, communicate with people, respect people outside the walls of our home. That's something she has to learn by example and by practicing it herself. Seeing other children mind their manners, obeying adults when she's told to do something and learning to share/speak/listen/behave/have confidence in herself.. just a few things I hope she finds at daycare. 

Yes, she will learn all of these things at home with her daddy and me. But to see her blossom and grow with the help of others... such an amazing thing. I want her to be a leader. I want her to believe she can move mountains. I want her to be fierce. I want her to want to do good. I want her to believe in herself. As her parents, we will always build her up. But a little push from others goes a long way.

To the stay-at-home moms who have it all figured out, that's awesome! Do what works for you! But I have to admit, pumping milk every day - three and four times a day - at work to make sure my girl gets what she needs.. that makes me feel like quite the superhero.

My child goes to daycare, and that works for me.