40

Today I turn 40.

Up until a few weeks ago, I really didn't see this as a big deal. I still really don't. I'm not devastated to be turning 40. Hell, I don't even feel like 40 is OLD. I can't really put my finger on what the problem is, but I definitely feel off.

I don't know if it's hormones or a "mid-life crisis", but I am not feeling happy about lots of things right now. Since I have no other things to blame it on, it must be the fact that I have this "momentous" birthday.

I feel like, nothing I do is right. That I haven't reached goals I feel like I should. That something is empty or unfulfilled. As I said before, I can't put my finger on what it is, but I'm not happy about it.

I'm sure I could chalk it up to the fact that I've got three young kids, a husband, a job and volunteering responsibilities that have me pulled in 17 different directions. But I don't know. I have friends with similar responsibilities, and they seem fine. But then again, I wonder if I seem fine to them

Don't get me wrong. I love my husband and my kids. My job is great. It's just that something seems off.

I often feel as though my husband and kids don't appreciate me. I know that they do, it's just that I don't feel it. Ever since I was a little girl, I have needed the validation, the hugs, the "I love you's". I can't explain it, I just crave it. Maybe it's the middle child thing (as I feel as though my middle child is the same way). The thing is, even though I know how my family feels about me, I don't get the validation (except from the littlest one) very often. I'm always fighting with the older two, or they are fighting with each other. It's exhausting. There are times that my husband and I just interact like roommates raising children. I can't tell you the number of times, we've spent evenings in silence, him on his ipad, me on my laptop.

so, instead of looking to the positive, I find myself dwelling on the negative, the goals unmet, relationships unfulfilled.

My kids fight all the time

I can't keep my house clean

There are always bills to pay

I am ungrateful when my husband buys me a gift and I focus on how it is not exactly what I had in mind

I haven't' come anywhere close to my fitness/weight goals

I am hoping that once this day is past, I can get out of the funk that I seem to be in.

love

My birthday was last week, and it fucking sucked. I didn't get to see any of my family before I left for the day, which isn't anything that different, but usually Pat gets up and we have coffee while reading the paper together. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but in looking back, it just adds to my shittastic day.

I am able to squeeze a quick workout in after work and go to pick up my kids from aftercare and daycare. Sarah wishes me a happy birthday, and then as we drive away from the school, she proceeds to fight with me about going to choir. We get Emma and head home to where I find cards and birthday gifts, unwrapped, set out on the kitchen table. I open the card from the kids and it's great, I love it. Pat's card is nice, but there isn't a thing written in it. The gifts are fine, strange, but fine; he got me a pillow and a lap desk for my laptop-neither of which I needed or wanted. My husband got home, and figured out what we would have for dinner and went and picked it up. He could tell I wasn't thrilled about the gifts, but never said a word to me about how my day went, never said happy birthday, never gave me even a hug or a kiss. We went to bed and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

I woke up Thursday morning in a horrible mood. As I got ready for work, it hit me that the only person who hugged me the day before was the toddler. The only person who told me they loved me on my birthday was the toddler. I cried on my way to work and got so angry with my husband for being an insensitive jerk.

I had a long talk with one of my best friends at work and she told me that I needed to have a talk with him about how I felt and that it wasn't anything to do with the gifts. She worked with me on finding the words to tell him that I need more affection, things needed to change.

I followed her advice and we had a great talk after dinner that day. He agreed that he needed to do better and that we needed to work on things. He neglected to give me the hug and kiss that I needed though. Our evening was interrupted by a trip to the ER with the little one, but he genuinely seemed concerned and willing to put forth more effort.

The next few days, he was working in the evening, but he made it a point to kiss me goodbye and tell me he loved me. But that was the extent of it. Last night, was our first evening together in a few days. We were having some decent conversation during the Steelers game, despite sitting on two separate couches (something I told him was getting in the way of our emotional intimacy). He wasn't that into the game and had said that if the Steelers fell behind by 14 points, he was turning off the game. At halftime, we closed up, went upstairs, and got ready for bed. He cleared off his side of the bed and then went downstairs, I assumed, because he had forgotten to do something. He never came back up. The game continued to be a blow –out and he stayed downstairs. I began to get pissed. The later it got, the more pissed I became. Emma woke up and needed to go potty, and when I got up with her and he still wasn't in the bed, I was fuming.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but I really felt like we needed to spend time together, talking or just being close, considering what went down on my birthday and the fact that he just came off working an evening shift which means we don't get to see too much of each other.

I am still pissed off this morning. I really feel like he wasn't even listening to what I said the other night. I need to feel appreciated, I need to feel as though I am important, I need you to ask how my day went, I need you to touch me, a hug, a kiss, a hand on my back. I need to feel like you are putting me and our marriage first every now and again. I need you to realize that when I tell you that I had a rough day with the kids, that I need some support from you, a hug, something.

eleven

Eleven years ago, I married my best friend.

Corny, I know, but true.

Lately, my friends and I have been talking about marriage and relationships a lot. Throughout these conversations, I have come to realize that while my marriage is good, it is not great. I have absolutely no doubt that my husband loves and respects me and I trust him completely. However, I don't think we are running on all the cylinders (is that even the right metaphor?).

We love our children, but they have taken over our lives. We rarely have a conversation that doesn't involve the almost daily activity pick-up/drop-off schedule. We can't have an adult conversation without being interrupted while the kids are awake. By the time they are asleep, we are barely conscious ourselves. I am convinced that we need some time to reconnect as a couple without the kids around.

We keep saying we need to get away for a weekend, or even a night, and dedicate some time to us. Unfortunately, we just keep plodding along never able to steal the time to do so.

By no means is our marriage in trouble, but I really feel that it could be so much better. I am determined to make this coming 12th year of marriage the year where we get a chance to reconnect.

What are we doing to celebrate our anniversary this year, you ask? Absolutely nothing! Pat is working tonight and I will be home alone with the girls. He told me that they Popeye's chicken we had for lunch with the girls after a morning of soccer and t-ball was my anniversary meal. Clearly, we need to dedicate some time to getting the romance back!

Signal 13

Early Easter Sunday morning, Hector Ayala was killed in a one car collision as he rushed to the aid of a Signal 13. A fellow officer who was responding to a fight call at a nearby restaurant needed assistance and called for a "Signal 13"-the police code for an officer in trouble. When this code goes out, all officers know that one of their brothers may be in a life or death situation and all effort is made to render assistance quickly.

Officer Ayala lost his life trying to save another. From what I have heard, this was par for the course for this amazing man. He touched so many lives in his short seven-year tenure as a Montgomery County Police Officer, including saving the life of a man attempting to commit suicide at the Glenmont Metro Station. He worked the midnight shift, but often came out on his off time to help translate Spanish for fellow officers. He was devoted to his wife and 15 month old son; coworkers described how happy he was to learn that he and his wife were expecting triplets this June.

As the wife of a police officer, this is hard to process.

As long as I have known Pat, I have had to struggle with the idea of him being put in harm's way; when we met he was already attending the police academy. Of course, I had no idea that early on that I would become his wife. I had no real idea what that would mean.

While we were dating and definitely after we got engaged, people would often ask me if I were scared for him, or I ever worried when he worked? They were difficult questions to answer. I would answer of yes, I worried, but I couldn't let it consume me. But, I didn't find myself worrying as often as other people seemed to think I should. I hadn't really be faced with anything that had caused me to worry too much, I guess I was in denial.

A few months into our marriage, I received a phone call from Pat's Sergeant that brought it all home to me. He called to tell me that Pat was on his way home and to "not freak out if he was covered in blood-he was ok." WHAT!?! How do you not freak out to that? A signal 13 had been called for a County officer responding to a domestic situation. While it was out of Pat's jurisdiction, he was one of the first on the scene. When Pat arrived home, he was NOT covered in blood, but did have some on his shoes. He filled me in on what happened and it felt good to know the whole story. That was the first time I remember being faced with the fact that at any time he could be that fallen officer.

Since then, there have been a few more local police deaths, including a young man that Pat attended the Police Academy with. Each one tugs at my heart and reminds me how quickly things could change.

As a police wife, I have learned that there are two types of police marriages. One in which the officer talks to his spouse about his or her day and gives them a glimpse into what they go through. The other, where there is a clear and distinct separation of work and home life. Mine is the former, more rare type of marriage. Many officers believe because it would make it too scary for those at home and would bring the stress of their job into their home. I believe to the contrary.

Maybe it is because I am a counselor by profession, or maybe it is just because of who we are as people and the mutual trust and respect we have for each other, but Pat and I couldn't imagine our marriage without full disclosure. Especially now that he is in a management role, Pat often runs situations past me and we bounce ideas back and forth. He recommends to his officers to keep their spouses informed to relieve the stress of the job. Unfortunately, not a whole lot of them follow his advice. I am a firm believer that ignorance breeds fear; if we have no idea what is going on, we build up an amazing fear of what could be going on instead of what is really happening. I am sure, Pat keeps some things to himself, and that is fine. But hearing about the types of calls he goes on and the way he handles situations, helps me to know the type of officer he is and that he has the skills to keep himself and those around him safe.

Thankfully, when he reached the rank of Sergeant, the amount of actual street time decreased. Now that he is a Lieutenant, it is even less. However, there is always that fear and concern in the back of my mind (and his) that keeps us on our toes. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't offer up a silent prayer for his (and his brothers in blue) safety.

My heart goes out to the Ayala family and especially his wife. Thank God for the kindness of legislators and strangers that there is financial help for the families of officers who die in the line of duty. Both the Federal and State governments have set up compensation for the families and COPS (Concerns of Police Survivors)does a wonderful job of providing many services to the family. There is also a fund set up by the Fraternal Order of Police Lodge 35 to aid the family.

In Memoriam:

Officer Hector Ayala

Badge Number 2128

End of Watch 4/4/2010

love

Today is the funeral for my Great Aunt Christine Sheetz. She was 97 years old. The women in my family tend to live a long time, so it is not surprising. What may be, to some, is that her husband Bill is still going strong at 103! Last year, the couple celebrated their 80th wedding anniversary, and her death came just one week before they would have celebrated 81 years of wedded bliss. They still lived in their own home and were amazingly still very independent. If I remember correctly, Uncle Bill may have still been driving.

Last year they profiled in Pennsylvania Families magazine last year and there was even talk of a visit to the Tonight Show, but Uncle Bill declined.

Their story is one that makes you truly honor the institution of marriage. I know that it is physically impossible for me to be married 80 years (I would be 107 years old), but I hope that my marriage can at least be as happy and fulfilling as theirs was.

As touching as their story is, my lovely husband remarks, "Man you're never going to die are you."

Why is this so hard?

I absolutely hate my husband.

Well, not really.

Last week I decided that I had to do something and I joined the gym near our house. I have gone to the gym almost every day since. I have been watching what I eat and doing pretty good, so I thought. I have lost a total of NOTHING!

My husband, who I love dearly, has decided to start exercising as well. In a week he has lost like 7 lbs.

WTF!!

Seriously, there is something wrong with this picture. I lose ounces and he loses serious weight.

It is a good thing that he loves me unconditionally, because at the rate I'm going, I'll never be his trophy wife!

Long lasting Aluminum

10 years ago today, I married my best friend.

Barf...I know it's terribly cliche, but in this case it is absolutely true.

The past 10 years of my life have been wonderful. I cannot imagine what my life would have been like without Pat by my side. Believe me, he has his flaws just like everyone, but he has kept me laughing for the last 10 years and the 4.5 years of dating prior to that.

He is my confidant, my rock, my best friend, and my pain in the ass.

Over lunch today my coworkers and I were discussing marriage. One of my friends mentioned that they had heard that the 7th year of a marriage was the hardest. Another one agreed, but then her marriage ended in divorce. I thought and thought then stated that I couldn't recall a really bad year.

We have had our ups and downs, but I can't really remember any horrible fights or stressful times in our marriage. Other things in life may have been difficult, but they brought us together instead of tearing us apart.

The time has passed quickly, yet I feel like he and I have always been together. I can't imagine my life without him and I am glad we found each other.

By the way, evidently the traditional gift for a 10th anniversary is ALUMINUM! Nothing screams I love you more that a roll of tin foil or a can of soda!