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You're Right. My Son Doesn't "LOOK" or "ACT" Autistic...to you.

10/5/2015

13 Comments

 
There's nothing wrong with him
I can't count the number of times I've heard it. 

"There's nothing wrong with him."

"He doesn't 'look' autistic."


"He must be really high functioning", "You're so lucky, he's verbal", "That's totally normal behavior for all kids", "We never called it autism, we called it lack of discipline".  I could go on and on, but you get the gist.

It is something that those who have children on the spectrum deal with daily.  A lack of understanding that a child or adult can be brilliant, witty, funny, mobile, verbal, intuitive, seemingly functional......yet, disabled. 

"Disabled" for so many correlates to something which is physical, obvious, apparent, and easily reconciled by obvious observation.  Because my son seems "so smart" (which he is), many assume there can be no merit to him being disabled.  Sadly, the majority of those who feel this way, are those closest to him. Family, friends, those we interact with daily. Should you try and explain the part of the spectrum which affects how information is processed, or how seemingly normal everyday interactions are misinterpreted, or how my son cannot make sense of your facial expressions or your tone of voice, or whether you are joking or being serious - it is easily dismissed, because, after all, "He's so smart. There's nothing wrong with him".

Our son celebrated his eighth birthday in September. He has been homeschooled until just a week ago.  He has other medical conditions, which up until this year have made it impossible for him to have the stamina or general health to attend school.  Through extensive medical care, surgery, extensive therapy and over a year of physical healing and progress, he finally expressed his interest in attending school.  With that, of course, comes a whole new round of evaluations, testing, and the mother of all things which turns special needs mothers into full fledged "mama bears".....the IEP.

I've heard horror stories about the process of getting an IEP in place for your child.  I was honestly dreading it.  I had been told to be prepared to "go to battle" for my child. I was told many IEP's involve lawyers.  This was all a first for me, so I prepared myself for the worst. Honestly, I had nothing to be concerned about. I am one of the lucky ones who lives in an area where autism and it's relative issues are respected by our school administrators. My son's core team of therapists, his service dog and my opinions of his needs were accepted and respected with open arms.

What I didn't expect from the IEP process, was the slap of reality on paper in my face.  It honestly was nothing I didn't already know, however, it was there, spelled out in black and white. 

After seeing what my son's struggles look like on paper, I first wanted to punch something, then cry in my closet for the struggles which my son endures daily, but which are so often minimized because "He doesn't 'look' or "act" autistic".  I then found myself with this overwhelming urge to scream from the rooftops "YOU SEE?! DO YOU GET IT NOW?! DO YOU SEE HIS REALITY?!"  I desperately wanted to shove his test results in the face of every single person who has ever minimized his struggles because "he seems completely normal to me", "at least he's verbal", "yeah, but he's so smart, you should be so grateful".  I wanted to scream for my child "RECOGNIZE HIS STRUGGLE, not your own perception of the lack of validity of it, because he carries himself well enough for your social acceptance". 

Guess what? My son's autism ISN'T ABOUT YOU or your thoughts, or opinions or acceptance or refusal of acceptance of his disability.

However, each and every time HE HEARS YOU dismiss those things which are a daily struggle he has worked so hard to overcome, you create yet another hurdle for him to endure.

You are teaching him that no matter how hard he tries, there are those who will never give him credit for how hard he's worked, and how can that feel to a little boy?  How would any of us feel if we were in pain, or suffering our own battle, whether it be obvious or internal, if all we ever heard was "suck it up, there's nothing wrong with you"?   I'm all about teaching my child that autism doesn't have power over his capabilities. I'm all about teaching him he can be all he can be.......but I will never accept him being demeaned, belittled, reduced, dismissed or scrutinized for the amount of effort it takes on a daily basis for him to continue to excel in a world which doesn't (and isn't obligated to) make his life a piece of cake.

My son doesn't 'look' autistic. My son is incredibly smart. My son also has struggles which you may never notice on the outside, unless he does something to offend you, or anger you, or cause you to question his parents. You will be oh so quick to make a determination as to why he is behaving the way he is, but chances are, you won't include the disability you cannot easily see.   My son needs you to understand him, should you claim to love him. 

He doesn't need judgment based on what you assume you know, because of what you perceive you see.






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13 Comments

The "SILENT NO MORE" Project

9/3/2015

0 Comments

 
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The
"SILENT NO MORE"
Project
 



Following the tragic events in Harris County,
a statement was made by Harris County District Attorney Devon Anderson:


“It is time for the silent majority in this country to respect law enforcement…It is time to come forward and support law enforcement and condemn this atrocious act.”

It is time to take a public stand in support of Law Enforcement.
This is an extremely simple Call To Action which can make a huge impact. 
This will not only help reassure our law enforcement officers that they have our support,
but it will give business owners and other public organizations and establishments
an opportunity to public show their support for law enforcement every day.

Included in the attached link is a page with pictures of a blank police badge for individual use, as well as a badge with a pre-printed public statement intended for local business owners, schools, churches and organizations. Please print as many blank badges as you'd like. Cut them out, and fill in with your own message of support for your local law enforcement. Some examples of messages could be “SILENT MAJORITY NO MORE, WE SUPPORT YOU” or “NO LONGER SILENT, WE LOUDLY SUPPORT YOU” or any other message you want to share in support of the men and women leaving their
families and putting their lives on the line to protect us every day.
You can include your name, business, school, etc., or you can leave it anonymous.


Wouldn't it be amazing to have police department hallways wallpapered with support badges?! Imagine seeing a sign in every business publicly stating their support for law enforcement!  

PLEASE FEEL FREE to share this post and email, forward, print, deliver the attachment to as many people as you can! Support and love can be given by church groups, schools and classrooms, family, friends, dance studios, businesses, clubs and organizations…

The goal is to flood our local departments and businesses with a very visual message that we will no longer be silent and our support for law enforcement far outweighs the negative.

I hope you will join me in making this little show of support a GIANT movement!

CLICK THIS LINK to download the attached .PDF document.









0 Comments

Choosing Faith When Hope Seems Lost

9/1/2015

19 Comments

 
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Like many spouses of law enforcement, I lost sleep last night. The month of August alone is baffling in terms of officers lost in the line of duty.  Those losses cut deeper when you look at the families left behind, not to mention the mind boggling disregard for life associated with how so many of those LEOs were taken.  Before I could close my eyes last night, word of yet another officer shot in DeKalb County, GA as well as extremely disturbing news unfolding of an off duty officer from Texas found dead inside his home.

To add insult to injury our officers and spouses of officers are being bombarded with frankly frightening headlines, filled with not just your typical anti-law enforcement rhetoric, but true evil intent of violence against LE and bona fide death threats from organized hate groups. It is hard to have faith.

          "HOUSTON, Texas – Armed Black Panther members marched in front of the Waller County jail and shouted, “You’re gonna stop doing what you’re doing, or we will start creeping up on you in the darkness.”The statement was made just two weeks prior to the assassination of a Harris County deputy sheriff."
http://www.breitbart.com/texas/2015/08/31/armed-black-panthers-to-texas-cops-we-will-start-creeping-up-on-you-in-the-darkness/

There are statements being released to many departments instructing their officers to be vigilant, on high alert.  In the wake of the assassination of Harris County Deputy Darren Goforth, we have citizens coming to the aid of officers in parking lots, watching their six in order to allow officers to simply fuel up knowing someone is keeping an eye out. I am instantly reminded - don't lose faith.  

There is also, once again, a very noticeable silence from The White House.  Days after Deputy Goforth was assassinated in cold blood we heard nothing.  It was on his way to Alaska that our president made a phone call to the wife of Deputy Goforth with his condolences.  No public support of law enforcement, no public statement condemning the heinous act of cowardice against a uniformed officer.  Nothing for the law enforcement community to encourage them in the least....and no surprise.

It all begins to wear on you. Death after death, threat after threat - your spirit begins to feel burdened.  You find yourself between moments of rage, hopelessness and a mind so boggled at the level of hatred which has grown into a full fledged open war on the American police officer.  This is a heavy burden for our LEOs to carry each day.  It's nothing new, it's just hatred amplified with a broad brush.  Many officers across this nation have watched as cities and counties have seemingly hurled their officers under the bus.  They have watched as charges have been brought against their own, in some cases justifiably,  yet in others it has officers hesitant to do their jobs for fear of retribution.  We've seen an officer brutally beaten unconscious who later stated he feared being a target of the media, so he hesitated.  Our faith waivers.

We have all seen what mainstream and social media does to our officers and their families.  Regardless of fact, regardless of reality, regardless of factual evidence to the contrary, we have seen time and time again our LEOs being labeled as a whole based on the actions of a few.  We have heard the chants of death wishes upon  "ALL" officers from the very groups who are protesting because they are "ALL" being oppressed and labeled and targeted based on the actions of a few.  And yet, even when that common sense is right before the eyes of many, it is disregarded in order to continue the false narrative of hate filled rhetoric against law enforcement as a whole. 

So as spouses of law enforcement, in these times, what are we to do?  There no denying many law enforcement spouses are on edge, emotionally drained, angry, frustrated and yes, justifiably fearful.  I'm hear to say - allow those emotions. Each and every one of them.  However, we cannot allow ourselves to wallow in any of it.  There's a fine line between being vigilant and aware vs. living with an encompassing fear which leads to an abandonment of our true selves.  We truly cannot lose sight of our faith.

Am I saddened, angry and fearful - yes. I am. Have I had moments where I wished my husband could and would walk away?  Yes.  I have.  I have then asked myself how those emotions can help myself, my husband, our family and our law enforcement community.  I know my husband is feeling he needs three sets of eyes and ears and must by hyper vigilant at all times, on and off duty.  In addition, he is determined to keep his own family safe. Communication is key during these times.  We both know we are independently experiencing emotions not necessarily typical of our everyday lives.  We are there to listen to each other, support one another and reassure one another that we will not allow the evil of this world to change who we are or have ownership over our lives.  You can allow it all to break you, or you can push past and empower yourselves as a united front, representative of all the positives this law enforcement family should be presenting to the public. 

Through it all, there is one group out there watching us.  The law abiding citizens who have never had much reason to publicly have our backs are seeing the hatred aimed at us.  They see us.  They are vocally speaking up for us and physically taking a stand to help us and show their respect for us.  We have seen time and time again, in Memphis, in Louisiana, and recently in Texas to mention a few places.  The American citizen is taking note, and they too are tired of the media driven, government supported, continual bashing of the American law enforcement officer.  

So, as we begin yet another day seemingly surrounded by hate and violence, remember the words so many of those who matter have said to the law enforcement community.  They are watching, they support those of us who honor this life and the duty it holds.  They appreciate those who protect and serve their communities and they will stand up for us.  As officers and spouses and family members of officers, now more that ever we must remember the standards we are held to.  I wholeheartedly believe this applies to the spouses of law enforcement as well.  Our demeanor, our appearance, the way we act and interact with the public, the voice we lend as the face of law enforcement families has a vital impact on how the public perceives us as a whole.  Just as those few bad apples have such an impact of the very core of the perception of law enforcement, so do the actions of each and every one of us who identifies as a member of this blue family. 

You can blame the media for skewing the views of many, you can blame social media for spreading the lies and false narratives, however, ultimately, we are our strongest hope in presenting a positive image of law enforcement.  Being a law enforcement spouse is just one aspect of my life as an individual.  I am a special needs mother, a legislative advocate, a woman, a friend a daughter....however, I take my vows to support my husband very seriously. I understand in this world the spotlight is on us and so many are looking for any reason to justify their judgment of us. I have the power within me to present the most positive image of a law enforcement wife to the public as I possibly can.  Our officers need to do the same.  We all need to consider how powerful our actions can be. 

Don't allow the emotions to break you.  Reach out, talk about it, have your moments.  Then stand up and represent in a way which will make little girls and boys grow up saying - I want to be a police officer when I grow up.  If everyone puts forth a positive, we truly can drown out a world of darkness.  Have faith in us.






19 Comments

The Demoralization Of The American Police Officer From Within

6/3/2015

4 Comments

 
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There's no denying there is an effort to villainize  the American Police Officer by mainstream media, certain government leaders, as well as self proclaimed leaders with personal agendas.  Our officers have been left in a position where doing their jobs results in charges being brought against them, they are being thrown under the bus by their City leaders, they are being targeted with evil intent by members of the public, they are being sought out, simply for the badge on their chest, ambushed, murdered, attacked, mocked and berated on the streets.   As if all of that weren't enough..... there's been a bigger problem all along.  Sadly, what many fail to see is who exactly becomes collateral damage in all of this.  It is and has always been the beat cop, the ones who signed up for the right reasons.  The little boys and girls who grew up with a gleam in their eye and a resounding desire to wear the badge in order to make a difference.  It is those men and women who refuse to let go of their desire to make a difference, regardless of all which is working to destroy them. 

To think of all the eager young men and women who desire to wear the badge despite the evil of this world speaks to their character.  To think of all those veteran officers who somehow hold on to their fight and refuse to allow the politics and underhanded manipulative efforts of the brass deter them - well that speaks to their character as well.  How long will it be before it all goes to hell? 

How long can we sustain the good men and women of law enforcement before the constant wearing down from the public and from their own becomes too much?  And....then what are we left with?

Change must start from within.  We have no real right to expect the public to respect us when we don't respect and value our own.


The following is a story of one of those beat cops.  It speaks truth in volumes. Until the leaders of our police departments and agencies remember the value of their officers and honor their worth, nothing will change. 

"I remember ten years ago, a conversation I had with a relative.  I expressed my disgust with the business world I was in.  I was fed up with the back biting, the constant push for results in a failing market, the lies, the deceit and the struggle to win at any cost. 

I remembered an officer who intervened in my youth, who told me I was better than what I was doing.  I remember the impact that had on me.    I remembered thinking, this man in his sharp uniform had integrity.  I remember thinking, the professionalism shown by that veteran must run rampant within that field. 

I told my relative, I was ready to shed the business world and step into a field greater than what I could imagine.  He looked me in the eye and laughed.  He said, I would soon understand that the very same traits I was trying to shed were everywhere in my new calling.

Determined to prove him wrong, I set out on my new adventure of law enforcement.  I was paying my dues in the department, horrible shifts, horrible pay, but I was young(er) and I was learning a craft that would help me in the streets later.

I got the call.  It was time for me to suit up and hit the streets.  Time to really make a difference.  My first brush with the "way we do things" was during my FTO phase.  I had trainers who didn't want to work.  Trainers who just wanted to meet the local girls.  Trainers who cycled up and down like a teenage kid full of hormones.  He didn't know whether he wanted to play loud music and drive fast or tell me to park and "work on reports quietly while I close my eyes for a minute."

Undaunted, I graduated and starting getting my feet wet.  I was soon approached by a beacon of light and asked if I would be interested in training the new guys.  The sales pitch was not without intrigue.  If you train, the trainers are who they look at to promote.  They are the ones that will be the next leaders of this agency.  Of course I would, but my motives were selfish.  I wanted to make sure the new guys didn't get stuck training with the same "types" I trained under.  I wanted to make sure they were squared away, especially if my life depended on them.

I started on my trainer journey.  As time wore on I began to see that the sales pitch was a farce.  I had a hand in training quite a few people who are now my superior in rank only.  I had to maintain who I was as I watched some scandalous folks work their way up the ranks.  Whether by spending shifts in the right offices to get noticed, or causing scandals for others or just generally kissing the right rump to get the job done. 

My dad was an NCO in the U.S. Army for 22 1/2 years.  Working hard comes through genetically in my family.  I bought in to the old adage of working hard to achieve success.  I had done so in my previous jobs and now was no different.  However this "professional" environment I entered, wasn't so professional. 

I've seen folks flat out break rules and get promoted.  While I've seen others break the same rules and get paper put in their jacket.  I've seen married supervisors sleep with other supervisor's significant others and then play the victim when it gets found out.  That's right, you guessed it, promote that guy.  Folks that couldn't manage a load of laundry are put in charge of shifts of crime fighters on the street.  Sometimes, you don't even have to have rank.  Just be the guy and they will leave you in charge.

In a field where the unethical, uncaring and unappreciative should stick out like a neon sign, it's hard to find those that care.  The leaders who care about equality and fairness are few and far between.  The good old boy system is STILL a major factor in this business.  To get ahead you have to "play the game". 

I've seen families taking loans from their retirement, myself included, to stay in a job that will never appreciate them.  They won't be appreciated by the citizens they serve and they aren't appreciated by the upper echelon they serve under.  I've seen the sacrifice of missed birthdays, anniversaries, the blood shed for the department, the sacrificing of one's body to long term injury.  There is no drive to do the right thing, with the exception of those struggling to live up to their own rigid morale code. 

The unspoken attacker of the modern day LEO is morale. 

Why continue to serve in a field where you are so undervalued, unappreciated, uncared for and generally despised?  Why, across America, do we have department heads that refuse to acknowledge the hard work and dedication of the ones who put it all on the line for that shield they proudly wear and don't spend their days kissing the royal backside? 

The true and most positive answer I can come to is simply...integrity. 

A year ago, I took a meeting with my department head and shared some simple ideas that could and would boost morale throughout the trenches of the working class in my department.  Most, if not all the ideas would cost little to no money to implement and I even volunteered to follow up on the ideas and bring them to fruition.  I got the standard nod and ok, we'll look in to them.  As of today no morale boosting ideas have been put in place.  We did however receive an agency wide email that cited budget concerns as to why we would not receive cost of living or merit increases for the fifth year.  But there was a nice few lines in there that stated we would be receiving extra duties to help cover the 100+ employees we were down because of budget issues. 

If people aren't getting paid competitively, one of the only ways to keep employees, is make sure they feel appreciated. 

When I was in the business world and we payed people minimum wage to work, you had to show that appreciation.  In this thankless job we do, if you're not appreciated on the streets and you're not appreciated at work, why would you keep coming to work?  The answer floating around my agency and agencies across the country is they won't. 

This profession is starting to become inundated with people not called to the job but simply those looking for a job.  I know that if the safety of my family depends on an officer, I want the officer that is willing to fend off the wolves and not the one just collecting a paycheck.

I recently read a
blog by Lt. Randy Sutton LVMPD Ret. called The De-policing of America.  Quite simply put, officers across the country are fed up.  They are fed up with the attacks by the public, the media and more often than not, their own Administrations.  The proactive policing of the past is quickly being replaced by the "just doing enough to keep my job" mentality.

In years past, it would have been traditional for a LEO to pass the torch to his offspring.  In these times it seems more traditional to steer them away from it.  I myself have already explained to my children, in no uncertain terms, I DO NOT WANT YOU TO FOLLOW IN MY FOOTSTEPS. 

The times of policing in America are changing.  No matter what theory you subscribe to as to the why's, they are simply changing.  I for one believe they are trying to oust those with a sense of duty and loyalty to the oath we took. 

If you are a supervisor in an agency, now is the time to step up and be a leader.  Don't just be a boss!  Theodore Roosevelt said, "People ask the difference between a leader and a boss ... The leader works in the open, and the boss in covert. The leader leads, and the boss drives". 

Get out there and let your troops know they are appreciated.  Thank them for going the extra mile.  Heck, thank them for coming to work today.  But make sure, when the day is over, they know that their LEADERS, appreciate them.  Build that rapport, boost their morale.  The country is falling apart at the seams at a rapid pace.  The first line of defense to keep the wolves at bay, is crumbling under the mounting load of stress and turmoil dumped on our first responders on the daily.  BE THE DIFFERENCE!"


4 Comments

Officer's Wife & Autism Mom - How Both Have Made Me Better

4/21/2015

4 Comments

 
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I was having one of those days recently where anything and everything that could go wrong did. My husband was having a hella week with OT and extra jobs every night after his regular shift.  Our son was having one of his bad weeks with his chronic bowel obstructions and side effects of constant nausea, headaches and the resulting autism related anger and meltdowns.  Of course it was an extremely hectic week for myself with work deadlines.  It seemed like there was one of me and twenty things that needed attending to at the same time, and each time I tried to attend to something, I totally screwed it up. I locked my keys in my car, twice.  I dropped dinner all over the floor. I accidently washed the boy child's favorite and "last piece of candy like that on the entire whole earth!" in the washer and subsequently it melted all over everything in the dryer. There was no point explaining Skittles are not a candy on the endangered species list, as clearly that was not his point. We've all been there, done that and we all know, this too shall pass, but for whatever reason there are times it seems we can handle everything thrown our way like a boss and yet other times, it only takes the slightest circumstance to send us on an emotionally charged loop.

I've never really sat back and thought about the similarities of being the wife of an officer and the mother of a special needs child, but for whatever reason on that day, I had this chicken or the egg moment of realization, and I finally came to the conclusion, it didn't matter which came first, both have made me a better wife and mother.

Newer law enforcement spouses and parents of newly diagnosed special needs children both have the element of surprise and both have the weight of the unknown upon their shoulders.  Regardless of how much you read, research, listen to others who have been there, done that...until you have your own experiences you cannot truly understand and learn from them.   I don't really know how many years into my marriage it was before I felt like a "veteran" police wife - I just remember at some point I knew this was how it was, certain things would never change and I could wallow in the negatives or make the most of the positives.  It just seems like one day things clicked and I thought "Life is what you make of it, even on sucky days".  I remember feeling the exact same way about a year or so into the journey of autism.

People judge me and my husband before they ever get to know us, simply because he's a police officer.
People judge me and my son before they ever get to know us, simply because he is accompanied by a service dog.

Perfect strangers will stop us when my husband is in uniform to ask all kinds of questions about that wreck on the highway last week (in a different city) or what to do about a neighbor who won't turn their music down.
Perfect strangers will stop my son and I and begin asking questions about his "seeing eye dog" and his medical history and how to get a service dog for an issue completely unrelated to our own.

My life as an officer's wife revolves around constant compromise due to changing schedules, last minute extra jobs, sudden late shifts due to unexpected drunks, arrests, etc..  My life as a special needs mom revolves around constant compromise due to the ever changing moods and physical wellbeing of my son.  Plans one minute are instantly changed due to GI issues, meltdowns, sensory challenges which disrupt our day and never predictable moods.

Being an officer's wife has taught me my pride in my husband will rarely be understood by others outside of law enforcement.  There's no making anyone understand why I consider my husband my hero, when they have no understanding or respect for those who put their lives on the line daily to protect innocents.  To some, my husband will always represent their wasted tax dollars.  I've learned to wear my pride in my heart, where it matters most anyway.  Likewise, those outside of the ASD/SPD community will most likely not understand why I am instantly brought to tears when my son makes it though a new experience without a meltdown.  Or why one grape eaten is so huge, or why my son is my hero when he makes it through a regular movie. I've learned that because he doesn't "look" disabled that many will never truly understand how amazing he really is.

Being an officer's wife has led me to be extremely independent.  I cannot depend on my husband to be there whenever I need him and I cannot resent him for choosing a path as a servant and protector to others, even when a snake in a toilet is keeping him from me and not an abused mother in need of a protector.  I must always remember his duty is to answer the calls, he doesn't have the pleasure of hand picking what he must respond to.   Likewise I have become very independent as a mother. Special needs child or not, this would be the case as the wife of an officer, however, adding special needs to the mix is just another layer.  It is mostly on me to get our son to therapies and specialist appointments and procedures and evals.  It is mostly upon me to deal with the constant day in, day out challenges of sensory overload, feeding disorders, seizures and meltdowns.  It is mostly upon me to have the patience of hearing from sun up to sun down about the latest obsession, in great detail with much patience. And, it is mostly up to me to understand what my son is experiencing and remember it is not within my power to change him or his feelings, nor is it right to resent him for that which he cannot control.  I must always remember he didn't choose to have autism, dysphagia, seizures and speech problems, but as his mother I must make the choice to help him learn to cope with those things which are not in his control.

Being an officer's wife has taught me to be patient. He's rarely home when he should be home, dinners go uneaten quite often, I can't get a response when I need one. It may take weeks or longer for plans to work out without something ruining them.  Birthday parties, holidays and such are often a controlled disaster. Last minute cancellations are the norm. Family and friends tend to not understand.   I don't have to change a thing about that being applicable to being a special needs mom. 

Being an officer's wife has taught me to let things roll off my back and consider the source.  From cop haters to internet experts on how officers should handle themselves to those who will never even try to open their minds to your truth and knowledge about the man you married, as they have their mind made up as to why cops are the way they are and nothing said could ever change that.  From many - my husband will never get credit for being a  loving father or husband because he made the choice to become an oppressor of human rights and I will never get respect because I chose to marry him.  Being an autism mom has taught me to realize that there will always be those who don't believe in autism, who believe my poor parenting skills are to blame and who have an opinion on everything from GMO's to food coloring to time spent in front of a tablet as reasons for my son's issues.  Regardless of me trying to educate some, they will always state I should discipline more, he will eat good foods if he's hungry enough, he will wear socks if you give him no other choice and nothing I say will change the fact that in their mind, I'm simply making excuses.  After all....there wasn't autism back in the day, there was spankings. Same judgment, two different subjects....like water rolling off a duck's back.

Being an officer's wife has prepared me for the mommy wars. This was an unexpected benefit (if you can call this ridiculousness a benefit).  There's a whole world of instantly offended and defensive law enforcement wives out there who will jump your shit before you even knew you needed a bathroom.  I have to walk away from the internet daily just reading the comments from what is supposed to be a sisterhood of police spouses (ohh...just said sisterhood, must be leaving out the men on purpose there).  I see prayer requests from a wife stating something as simple as "please send some prayers up for my husband, he's worked over 60 hours this week and is dealing with protestors".  This will be followed with droves of one-up's  "My LEO hasn't been home in four days, has had bottles thrown at him and is working with a stress fracture".  "My LEO was in a fight on the side of the highway while trying to deliver a baby with one hand tied behind his back and blindfolded"  OKAY.....YOU WIN!!!  I see the same thing with special needs moms.   "Been a rough week. I just wish I could get him to try a fruit".  "Your kid eats more than two carbs, be grateful. I would do anything to get my kid to eat what your kid already eats".  "Be grateful your child doesn't have cancer or some other deadly illness. I wish fruit was all we had to worry about".  Yes.....because I'm not grateful my child doesn't have cancer?


My most used and least listened to line of all time......  "THE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF ONE IS NOT THE EQUIVILENT OF THE DIMINISHING OF ANOTHER".  

 I'll never understand the spouses who all about the drama and I'll never understand the mom's who feel the need to diminish each other. However, I have learned much from both, and on days when I catch myself feeling judgmental or rolling my eyes, I stop myself and remind myself that everyone is dealing with something legitimate to them, and who am I to judge?

I suppose at the end of the day one thing remains the same....it's really about how you choose to roll with the hand you're given.  I don't look at my life as the wife of an officer as some hand I've been dealt, I look at my life with the man I was blessed enough to marry, who happens to be an officer.  I choose to remember what he can and cannot control about what is thrown his way each shift and I make the choice to not allow resentment and petty anger come between us as the time we have together is not guaranteed.  Knowing an officer doesn't make it home alive every 53 hours will (or should) make you keep your priorities in check. God forbid something happens to him,  I never want our last moments to be regrettable.  Likewise, there are no do over's in parenting.  I've got one chance to give it all I have as Izzy's mom. I'll never look at autism as the hand I've been dealt.  I'll always remember it is my job to help a little boy who has no choice but to live with the hand he's been dealt, and I will do everything in my power to help him learn to appreciate all the positives about being autistic, rather than focus on the challenges.

There are days I will fail miserably at both, wife and mother. But I'll do my best to be my best and when I suck at it, I'll try again.  One thing I can honestly say - I'm a better person today than I was before either of those incredible beings entered my life.  It is because of that I know, things are just as they should be.  As it's said -

Life is a journey - enjoy the ride.



4 Comments

Law Enforcement Marriage, Sometimes We Need To Check Ourselves.

2/6/2015

6 Comments

 
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It has always been my mantra that approaching life as a team results in success. Mutual respect for one another and a genuine desire to support each other in individual goals, dreams and ventures, which will strengthen you both as a unit.

So much of the division I see in marriages would be easily remedied if selfish tendencies and lack of respect would be eliminated as an option.
 


I often relate the relationship with my children to that of my attitude I have towards my husband. We have grown girls as well as a seven year old special needs boy.  Marriage, law enforcement life and autism in itself could make for a hot mess reality show.  There are days when I am mentally exhausted, physically injured (autistics can be very violent), my house is destroyed, expensive therapy equipment has been purposely broken, the harshest words have been said to me by my son and all I want is five minutes to pull myself together and cry in the closet….however, that moment is nowhere in sight as five minutes before my husband finished his shift he just had to be the one who rolled up behind a drunk, leaving me hours from any kind of relief. 

There are days I do not like my son. There are days I don’t have the energy to deal with autism.  There are days I resent autism.  There is never a day that I love my son even one ounce less.  There is never the thought that I will give him the cold shoulder, be rude or hateful to him until I feel like being respectful again.  There is never the thought of “I’ll show you” because of his actions. He is my son. He’s my life. I dedicated my life to being the best mother I can be to him.  However…..when I’m exhausted, when I’m emotionally spent, when I’m physically drained, when my day has been the worst of the worst and my husband comes in four hours later than expected and the first words out of his mouth are “Is there food? I’m starving….wow, rough day, what happened to the house?”  How easily can my daggers come out at the man I love. How easily I could take one sentence and make the choice to lash out because of how it instantly felt due to the circumstances of my day. How easy it is to disregard what I’ve not even asked about, his day, his regular shift, then a drunk at the end of it, his level of exhaustion and hunger and the fact that he wanted to be home four hours ago too. Why, as couples, do we so easily overlook respect and quickly rush to jump on opportunities to disrespect one another? Why is it so easy to be hateful to the one you supposedly cherish?   Selfish want and pride.

Now, the situation above could go either way but honestly, it’s completely in my hands to choose.  I could allow my emotions to be an excuse to dictate that my assumptions are my husband’s intentions before ever allowing him to speak or listen.  I could easily chime in something to the tune of “excuse me? You’re four hours late, I’ve been punched, kicked, the $300 sensory swing has been ripped from the studs, there’s apple juice on the ceiling, your son flooded the bathroom, again and cut holes in his sheets, but you want to know about food and why your house isn’t clean?!?  (insert a stream of profanity here), or….I could take five seconds, breathe and remember my husband has absolutely no way of knowing about my day until I tell him, just as I have no idea about his until he tells me.  I can take an educated guess that a starving, tired man has no intention of walking into his own house and purposely pick a fight as that decreases his chances greatly of receiving food or any hope of peace and quiet for the rest of his already exhausting day.  And the way that truly goes down in our house is with me responding honestly “My day sucked, obviously yours did too. Why don’t you go change and take a minute for yourself and we’ll figure it out together”.  The reason that works for us is because my husband has a mutual respect for me, as I do him.  There’s no competition about who had the worst day and we both know nothing good can come from either of us taking our frustrations out on each other.  The only thing worse than a crappy day, is starting a bunch of new craptasticness with the one person you should be able to talk to about it before the day is done. 

It is our goal, as a team, to figure out how to help each other, encourage each other, support one another and lift each other up, regardless of what we’ve individually endured on any given day.  It works, because we’re both willing to treat the other in a respectful manner, no matter what.


Honestly, I see women who will forgive their girlfriends more quickly than their husbands.  I see men who come home and instantly solve their frustrations by belittling and demeaning their spouse and children.  I see women who do the same. I see a whole lot of people who are willing to hurt those they love in order to be right, be validated, justify their own emotions and take a stand, or to avoid their own truths. 

There is no getting around the following, whether you are a husband, wife or parent….. ANY TIME, AND EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU BELITTLE, DEMEAN, REDUCE, DIMINISH, DISRESPECT OR DISVALUE your spouse or your child, you are being ABUSIVE.  PERIOD.

We all have frustrations in life. We all have horrible days. We all have periods in our marriages and relationships where we can easily let life creep in and cause a wedge between us.  It is a choice.  Regardless of my level of stress or his level of stress, or illness, or financial worry or issues with our careers or problems with our children, we have a choice.  I can disagree without diminishing my husband’s opinion.  He can disagree without disrespecting me.  It’s a choice.  Somehow in society it has become easier to lash out and belittle those we love than to step back a moment and honor their worth.

Obviously there are marriages and relationships which are plagued by abuse or infidelity which is not applicable to this conversation and require much more intervention. However, for so many couples, who truly love one another, sometimes we need to step back and reevaluate our respect for one another.  We can use the chaos of life as an excuse for our own lack of character, but why would we want to?  Have you told your spouse what they truly mean to you lately? Have you been the first to own your mistakes and be accountable for your actions in a moment of haste?  Have you gone out of your way, despite how busy or tired or frustrated you are to let your spouse know how much you value them?

Much about law enforcement marriage is no different than other marriages…however, there is one truth which cannot be discounted.  Every 58 hours an officer doesn’t come home.  Never forget that as they walk out the door, and regardless of how bad your day was, never forget that when they walk back in.  Just as our LEOs should remember never to walk out the door in anger, as that could be what you leave your spouse and children with for a lifetime.

Cherish one another. Love each other. Make your team your priority.  Always.




6 Comments

Autism, Motherhood, Police Wife Life; Owning Your Vices

1/15/2015

1 Comment

 
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I'm not one on that whole "resolution" team when January rolls around. I know myself well enough to know what an utter failure I am when I decide on change due to a date on a calendar vs. when I'm actually ready. I think sometimes all aspects of our everyday life need to collide in one huge cluster "F" for us to have the wake-up call we need; and sometimes it just happens over time and one day you wake up and decide.. this just isn't working for me.

I dedicated myself years ago to being a positive person.  After an extremely abusive relationship I realized just how much I loathed myself and how sad it took me being in that situation to realize I actually had worth.  That's neither here, nor there but the point is, I've been in a place before where life circumstances have left me bargaining with God, having that "If you just give me the strength to get through this, I swear I'll live my life the best way I can to honor you".  At some point I actually decided to listen to God saying.... "You have to do the work, I'll be here to listen. Your life choices are always in your own hands, how you choose to live it, is up to you".  What the hell..... there's really no "easy" button?

I think I've spent years since that time with an "easy button" of sorts. Amazing husband, amazing kids, great job; it was as if the sun rose after the darkness and God made me very aware, I had weathered the storm. Something happens when you have come through the worst of the worst and you realize just how amazing life can be, however human nature sure has a way of creeping right back in when things aren't all rosy.  We all seem to have seasons in life, the good, the bad, the ugly and the in between where you're in some bizarre place between one or the other.  I feel like the last three years since Izzy's diagnosis have been a very long trip between every season imaginable.

That whole "when it rains, it pours" is no joke. I have no idea how it happens, but for whatever reason, in my life, it seems like I'm either skipping through the flowers or clawing my way through the thorns.  The hardest part, is to know, admit and own how much of your own misery you are creating for yourself.

I know I'm revisiting but for those unaware, when Izzy was diagnosed we were in the middle of building our dream home. It took 14+ years of BL busting ass in law enforcement and my career was solid, the girls were teenagers getting ready for college, Izzy had a private day care provider, I was being paid to blog and travel for speaking engagements and book signings... LIFE.WAS.GOLDEN.  Then, the bottom dropped out beneath us.  I was prepared for Autism, I suspected for years.  I had NO IDEA we would find ourselves with a diagnosis of Dysphasia, Rickets a feeding disorder, strength and mobility issues and self harming in our child.  It seemed as if he woke up angry one day and it all just went to hell in a hand basket overnight.  His daycare provider could no longer take it....and I couldn't blame her a bit.  I went from working career mom to researching medical expert consumed with internet information and studies on what to do to find the right help for Izzy.  We lost over half our income when I left my job.  I started a home day care to absorb the loss. We quickly learned there was no way to continue with that once we found out therapy appointments, doctor appointments, intakes, evals, specialist appointments become your new reality overnight.  Three years later and the past month or so I've finally found myself at that place where I realized somewhere along the way, I disappeared.

I read every single comment people leave on Izzy's page.  "You are amazing", "You are an inspiration", "You have so much patience", "I could learn something about being a wife and mother from you". Truth be told, I am one hell of a special needs mom and I am the epitome of super wife.  I'll give myself that.  I don't always get it right, I fail miserably a lot, but by God, I give my everything to that boy and his father....because they deserve that from me and because they mean everything to me (as do the girls, but they're not in my face on the daily now that they're grown).  However, the reason I do as well as I do is, in part, because I have an amazing husband who makes it easy.  I don't live in a home with constant conflict and hostility.  My husband is my best friend and the most supportive person I know.  I know what it's like to not have that and it makes life miserable.  Credit where it's due.... I would suck at this without BL.  I could easily say I'm basically a single mom, I'm married to a cop. He's NEVER HERE.  It's the sacrifice HE has been willing to make in order for me to be able to stay home.  It is HIS sacrifice for our family.  He is the one out there working every extra job he can, which is why there will never be any resentment from me feeling like I'm alone in this a lot.  I don't feel that way because although there is a lack of his physical presence, there is always 100% emotional support.  I can promise you, things would be very different if we didn't have the marriage we have.  It breaks my heart knowing how many children and parents suffer when the home front is a place of hostility and not a haven. 

All that being said, my husband isn't responsible for my happiness, nor is he capable of making me happy with myself. Honestly, being happy with myself hasn't even been on my radar for the past three years, and not because I decided to hate myself, I just haven't had time to worry about me, nor have I had any interest in worrying about me.  You can throw every cliché out there you choose.... "Love yourself first", "If you don't take care of you, you can't take care of anyone else"..... ummm..... YES YOU CAN.  It may not be emotionally or physically healthy, and it won't last forever, but ask any special needs mom or mom of a child with cancer, or dad with a child with mobility limitations or any parent or sole caregiver of a person in need and they will tell you.... you sure as hell can take care of everyone but you, and do it rather well.  I doubt any of us think it's the best way, but there's only so much of us to go around and we are typically always last on our list.  I think that's fair for many, regardless of life circumstances. Unless you're just a self absorbed narcissist, most people tend to think of others before themselves, it's just a matter of who can maintain a level of balance.  My balance dropped off my radar three years ago.  I haven't looked for it since.  Frankly, I wouldn't change a thing.  It took everything I had to get Izzy to this point....because I CAN'T DO IT ALL.  I'm NOT superwoman.  I'm supermom.  I'm superwife.  I'm NOT SUPER-ME. 

So, there's been no huge awakening on my part, there's been no big "this is the year I take myself back" revelation. There's no urgency to make some complete life change on my part.  That's the great thing that comes with age.... the knowledge of reality and your own capacity to maintain your determination.  I'm honest enough to look at my life and know, I am capable of more for me, at this time.  It's taken this long but I finally don't feel consumed with Izzy.  I feel like our village is in place.  He has his team of doctors and specialists and therapists, we have a groove of progress going, despite sometimes daily setbacks.  I've reached that place as "Autism Mom" where I finally feel like "I got this" and it doesn't mean I'll stop crying in the shower on certain days and it doesn't mean I've got all the answers and it is certainly clear that our journey is far from over, but I feel like I am at a place to own that it's time to let go of some of the consuming lifestyle which has been sucking my energy for years. Frankly, I have myself to thank for that.  Being proactive and getting Izzy to this place regardless of what it "cost" me, is in part, why I'm where I am today.

I don't think losing yourself is always necessarily a bad thing..... not when it was your own choice, not when you know yourself enough to know what you're doing and why.  FORGETTING yourself is worse than losing yourself in my opinion.  I was "lost" in my child, so to speak.  I have no regrets in that.  I also have no shame whatsoever in saying I'm too old, too tired and now too out of shape to go full beast mode by myself and try and become what I was before his diagnosis without help.  Every time I read a comment from any of you that says "You're such an inspiration", I feel the need to reply "No, my doctor is an inspiration. Happy pills are an inspiration.  Xanax is an inspiration.  A husband who isn't a douchebag is an inspiration.   WINE is an inspiration".  I'm saying this for every single one of you who is discouraged or beating yourself up or wallowing in a misery you're so far in you can't figure out how to even start to get out.  Truth is, I did not wake up on January 1st, go buy a juicer and buckets of organic whole foods and jump on the treadmill and yell "I'm BACK BITCHEZZ!!"  No.... I went to the damn doctor and begged him to hook me up!  And I'll own it, because it's what works for me and has allowed me to look at an apple and not hurl it back into the damn fridge with anger and resentment.  It's allowed me to get my fat ass back on the treadmill without loathing myself for getting off it three years ago.  I'm at a place in my life where I can listen to everyone's else's advice and allow myself to feel guilty for not doing things the way society says I should, or I can be me.  And this me is the me who says "I don't give a rats ass what you think because you haven't lived a day in my shoes.  I am totally aware of what I sacrificed for my son. I'm totally aware I lost myself in the process. I'm not going to beat myself up for one more day because I couldn't be everything to everyone else and chose to backburner myself.  I can't change it, and I wouldn't.

One thing I've learned from my son is EVERY DAY is a NEW DAY.   So, to all of you out there beating yourself up.....stop it.  You're amazing.  Do what you need to do for you and yours, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.  YOU know YOU at the end of the day.  If you lay your head down at night and know you lived your life the way you wanted to, sleep.  If you didn't, think about what works best for you to change some things.....and start a new day.

Life.Is.Good.

1 Comment

Wolves in Suits and Brass Clothing

1/5/2015

1 Comment

 
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I had the exceptional blessing to spend a full two weeks with my husband over the holidays, something unheard of in seventeen years of law enforcement.  Granted, there were the standing security gigs at the church he's had for years and a couple funeral escorts he just couldn't turn down, especially with the knowledge of lost holiday pay and the forethought of January's bills looming over his head.  I welcomed those extra jobs, even in the midst of my spousal bliss that comes with the peace of having your officer "off-duty", as tongue and cheek as that term is, as we know, they never truly are off-duty.  For as much as I enjoyed having him under our roof for two weeks, I could see that fidgety notion within him welling up, the need to be out amongst the streets, doing what he does in order to provide for his family.  It came during a time of national turmoil in which I needed to see that spark within him. It came during a time of pain, loss and uncertainty within myself as a police wife wherein I, myself, needed to be reminded how much he still desires to be who he has been called to be, as my faith in humanity has been shaken of lately.

Just by the simple nature of what I do; advocating for law enforcement, I see a lot. I hear a lot. I read between the lines a lot and I am told a lot by those who feel they have no one else to allow to hear some things which go unspoken for different reasons.  I hear a lot from the spouses of officers. I hear about their greatest fear, kissing their loves goodbye at the beginning of a shift only to weep as their casket is lowered into the ground a week later.  I hear about the nightmares I share with them, the dreaded knock on the door, a unit pulling in front of your house which does not belong to your officer, having to tell your children their hero is never coming home.  I listen to those who realized those horrors and now call it daily life. I watch as their resilience somehow gets them through another day and I am in awe of their strength.

There is another side to the words which go unspoken for many.  It is the officer who rarely speaks and the reasons behind their silence. For many officers, silence is protection.  They wish to protect those they love from the truths which should never be spoken of again.  For many, silence is a burial of things too painful to relive, or a coping mechanism in self preservation.  Becoming anesthetized to the things which are seen and the words of hate continually spoken, the loss of life in manners of such inhumane circumstances it is easier to stifle somewhere deep inside and simply carry it to the grave...as 'simply' as one can carry such a burden.  After all, if you can't handle the 'job', if you're not cut out for those things, if you didn't realize what you signed up for, then that's just a personal problem, right? 

Over the past months many citizens have taken a renewed notice of law enforcement. Despite an administration hell bent on creating a broadcloth disrespect for the thin blue line, it has backfired.  Despite the sensationalized, media fueled accusations and hatred hurled as a collective towards law enforcement, the public has slowly, yet steadily began to rise up and say enough is enough.  For as much as those intent on spreading and inciting hatred against our men and women in uniform have tried to turn the country against those who protect us all, they have failed.  We have seen organized efforts to lift the spirits and show support for law enforcement across this nation.  We have seen countless American citizens voice their disgust at the public threats being made against law enforcement and the notion of "an eye for an eye" as some sort of vigilante justice where two completely innocent (and minority) NYPD Officers were literally hunted and assassinated simply for the brass on their chest in the name of vengeance against white police brutality.  Our citizens are sick and tired of the entitled nation of crazed looters and rioters who have no idea what or why nor interest in any cause other than mayhem and destruction. There has been a collective sigh of "Enough already" from the majority who can feel the pain of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as he undoubtedly sheds tears in heaven over what his dream has become under the hands of a charlatan and his cronies with nothing more than greed for fame and fortune in their eyes.

And yet, there is something underlying which is still rarely mentioned. Something which is taking its toll on our officers just as much as the war against them from certain members of society. Something which is leaving them more broken than the hatred they've been accustomed to for years.  It's taboo to speak of and for most pointless in its entirety. It's an understood fact and one of those "it is what it is and always be" realities for officers across the country.  There's a much more devious wolf out there than the evil in sheep's clothing.  There are the wolves in suits and brass. The sad reality is that if you were to ask most officers who has caused them more stress, they will tell you it comes from administration and within the walls of blue, and not from the evil of the streets.  

There are thousands upon thousands of officers in America who are ethical, honorable peacekeepers. There are some who are not. There is no officer who loathes a corrupt officer more than an ethical one. For those citizens who contend that until the "good cops turn over the bad cops" there will be no change, I implore you to look inside a "good cop's" reality.  A good cop is just an average joe. He/she puts on a uniform one leg at a time and heads out each day to keep the peace. Over the span of 10-12 hours they may go from directing traffic to drinking coffee on a break to delivering a baby to discovering a body.  They never, ever know. Every encounter is unknown.  They must now worry about being executed from behind simply for their uniform. They must be willing at any moment to put themselves in harms way for a stranger, even those who hate them. They must at every moment be willing to die to save innocents. They must worry about scrutiny and hatred and judgment and being complained on and sued and losing their pension and livelihood because of any given, unknown, circumstance that could possibly happen. If you were to look inside a average joe cop world you would see the supervisor just as you would see your own boss. You would see that you don't get your way by simply asking and you don't get a raise when you deserve it and you may need a new computer or phone system but it's not in the budget, just like officers need new bullet proof vests when they expire....of course your slow computer probably won't contribute to your death if you're shot. 

Just as you bust your ass for years and years only to see some new kid with a better diploma sweep in and get your promotion, so too will a good beat cop bust his ass for years only to be passed over for a well earned position due to upper brass politics and pure bullshit.  Just as you would go to Human Resources to complain about the unfulfilled promises made to you by management, so to will a average joe cop go to his FOP to file a grievance, only to be blacklisted by the upper brass and guaranteed to be left without a back on the worst shift for the next five holidays.  How many of you citizens with a 401-K and medical benefits and a mortgage who are already in your 40's or early 50's are willing in this economy to take a stand and walk out of your job based solely on principal?  Before you answer, remember an average joe cop has to start all the way back in the mailroom as a clerk when he walks away, as in become a rookie all over again, academy all over again, the equivalent of your first job out of high school all over again as it is extremely rare to get a lateral hire on another police force. 

Remember those times you dropped the ball or spilled the beans at work and next thing you know you were delegated to the most worthless project they could find for you in order to make you want to quit?  Average joe cop who stood up for what's right is the one you see in the freezing rain hoping not to get hit by a semi.  Average joe cop is the one whose supervisor sent him to the bloated dead body call in the middle of August. Average joe cop is the one who will get ignored for his dedication in never leaving a shift shorthanded when every good 'ol boy in with the upper brass calls in sick and could care less.  Average joe cop will get nowhere fast each and every time he opens his mouth about what's right. 

You know who average joe cop is? He's the one you're screaming at in a protest line. He's the one who hasn't eaten in nine hours and has to pee so bad it hurts. He's the one who has a wife and two sick kids at home but can't afford not to take the overtime because there's a cutoff notice in his unit.  Average joe cop is no more happy about having you scream at him because he's sure wishing you would call someone higher up all those names who actually matters, because he sure doesn't feel like he matters at all.  Average joe cop is probably working one of two or three jobs and is hoping not to get a bottle hurled at him or have to fight for his life, one....because of the obvious, two, because he can't afford to be off work.

Average joe cop hasn't been home on a holiday in years. Average joe cop has missed birthday parties and anniversaries and every summer three day weekend for as long as he/she can remember.  Average joe cop feels defeated and forgotten by his superiors unless he just happens to have gone to school with them or church with them or luckily a relative is married to a lieutenant. Average joe cop knows good and well if he/she dies in the line of duty the chief will most likely need to look at a picture to know which average joe cop is dead, and then read up on the particulars of average joe cop in order to speak at average joe cop's funeral.  

If average joe cop manages to survive an attempt on his/her life, they will be hard pressed to have a department who backs them for very long, and God forbid average joe cop needs some kind of counseling or help with PTSD because average joe cop will have upper brass picking up his/her unit, gun and badge before average joe cop can see a counselor.  This is the honest truth and it is widespread across this nation and for those in departments who treat your own this way....you're just as much of a problem.  For those who take care of your own, thank God for you and yours. A cop eating his gun or dying of stress related heart illness on average every 17 hours is more than enough.

For the average joe cop, there is much more than public scrutiny weighing on their shoulders, there is much more than hatred and a target on their back. There are memories which never fade, there are monsters they aren't allowed to speak of, there are feelings which get them labeled a pussy. There is humanity which must be suppressed for the sake of self preservation and the ability to protect those in need, yet there is compassion expected in order to serve the public. There are expectations of perfection on a split second basis and there is a knowledge that anything less could mean the end of their career, or their life at any moment.  There is a lack of support from the suits and the brass who have agendas and retirements and who have forgotten what being a beat cop was like.  For the average joe cop many times feels like nothing more than a badge number, and most of the time that's exactly the case.

Every person who reads this will recognize the names of Mike Brown and Eric Garner.  
How many, including law enforcement recognize the names of Suzanne Hopper, Craig Birkholz, Brian Jones, Jared Francom, Jaime Padron, Paul Butterfield and can speak to any aspect of their life, or how they died?  If "All Lives Matter", then make it so. 

We desperately need the support of the public for our law enforcement officers, but those in command, at every level, need to remember this family.  Every Mayor and City Council member and every single person holding rank and title within law enforcement needs to remember, constantly, that first day out on the beat and every single step it took to be in a position to forget those who in your eyes now stand underneath you, rather than beside you. 

If it doesn't apply to you, thank you for giving these men and women who risk so much the respect they deserve.  If any of this touched a nerve, contemplate how you can change it.

Our LEO's need our support.  All of it, from all of us. 
 




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How Autism Changed My Perspective On Racism

11/26/2014

3 Comments

 
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I've found myself in a strange place the past 48 hours.  Since the word came of no true bill in the Michael Brown case I have watched, listened, read and absorbed so much from news outlets and social media.  So much hate and sorrow and misguided attempts at resolution and justice. 

As a white woman, married to a black police officer, and the mother of a biracial child with autism (as well as a feeding/swallowing/choking disorder, and seizures and the standard bucket of sensory issues which come with autism), I sit here thinking to myself.... damn... I have a plethora of things to choose in my personal victimization. Yet somehow, even on my worst days, I am hard pressed to feel like any sort of victim.

I read an article today (written by a white mother) which left me wondering if I'm missing something completely.  I've seen similar opinions before and honestly, I just can't find that within me.  The notion that as a mother of a black child, I should live in fear as he gets older, as he gets less "little boyish", as he matures into what, according to the opinion of many, is no longer someone seen by the general public as a human being, but someone classified as a black male, which is apparently supposed to be a negative.  From the perspective of many mothers, who also seem completely in agreement with this notion, as a mother of a soon to be "young black male" I should be preparing myself for him to be racially profiled, targeted as a criminal, discriminated against and maligned, simply because he is a young black male.  I should be in sorrowful fear that his days of innocent "cute black male" youth will soon be replaced with the perception that he is just another black thug, simply because he is black. No other reason.  Again.... am I missing something?

I had to ask my husband about this because this isn't our first parenting rodeo and I can't go back to the girls teenage years and pull this theory together in my mind.  I don't recall a single instance where the girls were discriminated against simply for being black. I do, however, remember other black friends of theirs commenting about how they weren't black enough, which biracial children get a lot, from other blacks.  So, did I miss it because they are girls?  Is it just young black males being affected by such immense stereotyping, profiling and injustice?  After pondering it all and trying to relate it to my life and my son's life I finally came to a conclusion............. I call bullshit.

I do have fears and concerns for my son. I have many.  Race isn't on the top of the list. You see, my son is at the peak of his "cute, youthful little black boy" years. At seven, he's entering that awkward stage where his big boy teeth are too big for his mouth still, where he's not looking like my baby anymore but hovering on the edge between child and 'kid'.  As a child at an age where most adults and other children his age looking in at our life would assume he's a normal child, with the social skills and manners and awareness of what's acceptable and age appropriate, we have none of that.  No, we have autism.

My concerns are not with the color of his skin but the way clothing feels like steel wool when it touches him. My fears for him are fluorescent lights, loud music, crowded spaces and way too inquisitive people.   My concerns are not with people judging him because of race, but because of how he reacts in social settings when his senses are overloaded and the only way to silence the world which is too overwhelming for him is by acting out. To my son it is not people who are non-accepting of his race, but those who are uneducated and intolerant and judgmental when it comes to autism.  Perhaps if Autism were off the table I could focus on how he might be profiled one day for wearing a hoodie at the park, but I have bigger issues on my hands.  

Of course, I have seen racism and it is alive and well.  I have been talked down to by black females for taking a good black man off the market, which is quite perplexing as that statement in itself seems to imply those black women are only interested in mindless men who are powerless to make their own decisions in life.  I have been approached by many white women while shopping inquiring about foster care or adoption....you know, "how did you go about getting a black baby?"  They don't seem to know how to walk away fast enough when I say "Well, there was Vodka and some old skool love jams and we both looked really good naked back then"......  Oh...the lightbulb.... the black child is hers... walks away...  Of course I could go on for days about how my police officer husband only pulls over white people because he's racist against the white man and if he pulls over a black person he's instantly the enemy for not "tossin a brotha a break".  As much as I know we get some stares out here in the Wal-Marts of the Bible Belt of Oklahoma, it doesn't affect me as I never think about our family in terms of color.  I think about us as a family. Period.

So now I've been wondering if my son is awaiting some kind of predetermined social sentencing.
            
How much time do I have before he becomes just another profiled young black male? When should I really worry about him being victimized by a racist society and a profiling justice system? 

Honestly.... I don't think I'm going to go there.  I think it would benefit  my son more to focus on how he lives his life and how he becomes a productive member of society.  I think I would be doing my son a disservice by saying the opinions of others will impact his life negatively until society has given me a reason for doing so, and even then, I can't see myself telling my son that any of his hardships are based on the actions or reactions of society.

Perhaps if it weren't for autism, dysphagia, seizures and apraxia of speech I could go there. Perhaps if our daily life weren't filled with sensory overload, food aversions, choking episodes and self harming meltdowns. Perhaps if our focus wasn't on occupational, feeding, swallowing, speech and behavioral therapy.  Or perhaps if homeschooling an autistic child while trying to work from home wasn't wearing me out.  Perhaps if tags in clothes and seams in socks and bright lights and the ability to smell the neighbors paint and the inability to not smell everything wasn't part of my day. Or perhaps if throat scopes and KUB's, clean outs for bowel obstructions and Upper GI's and barium swallows and EEG's and learning disabilities and rickets and poor nutrition absorption weren't high on my priority list....or $1,200 a month in out of pocket medical expense with the stress of making it work on a cop salary.  Perhaps if I could silence the little voice lurking in my head now and then which asks me how I will ever do this alone if my husband is gunned down in the line of duty...perhaps then race will move higher up on my list on concerns. Honestly, from the depths of my being, I still cannot say the color of my son's skin will ever be near as much of a stumbling block for a little boy who is fighting a much bigger battle already.

You can sit here and tell me I'm white and privileged all you like. You can tell me I will never understand as I'm not black. You can tell me I'm in denial and not seeing this world for the realities our black children will face.  I don't need you to tell me. I have my husband for that.  I can ask my husband who grew up in poverty in the projects how he dealt with racism. I can ask him how he managed to be surrounded by gangs and not become a statistic. I can ask him why he wasn't gunned down by the police or targeted by his own race. I can ask him how he managed to avoid the systematic shredding of his character by those of privilege and how he went on to graduate, go to college and become a productive member of society.  I can ask him why he was never arrested for simply walking down the street or why he never robbed a convenience store or why he never destroyed the property of others or inflicted harm or perpetrated violence against innocents.

I don't think I will pay much mind to the white mini van mom who wrote about the pending misery my son is destined for simply because he's black.  No.  I think I will rely on my black husband to instill the values and moral conscience and integrity needed to become a respectable black man.  I think as his mother I will teach him that just as his father, he too holds the key to his own future and there is nothing anyone can say to prevent him from his future success.  As his mother I will continue to focus on the life skills my son needs to become all he can be.  

I can't speak for my husband, but something tells me he will say
life success begins with parenting at home, not with placing blame on others.









3 Comments

The Day I Lost Count Of My Friends Who Lost Their Husbands.

10/23/2014

3 Comments

 
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It wasn't supposed to be like this.  It was just a blog. A place for informative statistics. A place to spread awareness about the risks and mental totality of law enforcement.  A place to encourage spouses of our men and women in law enforcement. A place to wake those up who didn't get it, and to lift up those who do.  A place to let our officers know the half units were out here, supporting them when most did not.  Then something happened...... it got personal.

I don't supposed I ever contemplated that it would get personal.  Not like this.  I'm one of the most cynical people I know. Decades working in high conflict family law has led me to be a person with an extremely low tolerance for bullsh*t.  I can spot drama a mile away and have absolutely no patience for it.  I'm an older police wife, 45 years old, old, old to be exact. Most of my children are grown, in college and the little one that showed up with autism and a slew of medical issues is simply another  blessing disguised as a challenge to this well seasoned mom.  I've learned to keep walls up which prevent personal emotion from disrupting my life.  I have no time for tears.  Too much to get done, it's called life. We deal with it or let it rule us... no one rules the emotions of this chick.  I've made my mistakes, I've learned, I've grown into the seasoned veteran police wife and no nonsense mother that it takes to be a success in my world.   Well.....wasn't I surprised when all of that fell apart in the form of sobbing tears at the realization that yet another one of my sisters in blue had lost her love?  Perhaps I'm not as strong as I think I am.  Perhaps I'm much like so many of us.... waiting for a moment, a circumstance, a situation that brings us to our knees and reminds us exactly how human we really are.

I woke up on Monday morning to learn yet another one of my sisters in blue had lost her husband.  As I scrolled through my news feed I saw a sea of blue.  Blue roses, thin blue lines, the same badge over and over displayed as a profile pic.  I saw sisters from across Texas and the nation united.  I saw what I always see.  I saw what I have seen too many times to count.  As I continued to scroll I noticed how many of those profiles in my newsfeed were surviving spouses themselves.  I don't know why it had never really hit me like that before, but Monday it flooded my heart like a tsunami.  I went to my friends list. As the tears fell I counted..... three.....five....six....ten......fifteen......twenty seven.....  I had to stop.   How did this happen to so many of my own sisters in blue?  Well.... I know the answer, after all, I'm the one who thought it was a good idea to start telling the world about how it happens years ago.  Monday I realized just how high I have built those walls of protection from the reality of what I write about.  I realized when they came crashing down in a heap in the pit of my stomach.

All that being said, it didn't last long before I did what I always do.... find a way to deal, push through and move forward.  How blessed am I that my love is still here which makes it quite easy for me to find plenty to hold on to.....that's exactly the thought that came to mind.  I corrected myself quickly.  I corrected myself because I know better.  Despite those walls I have built for myself, one thing I have continued to do is listen...and learn.  I have had no better teacher than each of those survivors.  I refuse to call them widows.  Not a single one seems like a widow to me.  They are not victims, not one of them.  They are each remarkable pillars of hope and strength and positivity and knowledge.... they are wise. They are full of life.  I watch, I listen, I read as they all work through their periodic moments of pain.  I watch as the anniversary photos come up year after year.  I listen as they talk to the stars and the moon, reliving precious memories.  I also watch as they continue to live and laugh and love and make a new life for themselves.  I watch and listen as they teach me that no matter how much pain you have lived through there is tomorrow.   There is one step at a time. 

This week I have watched and listened to those like me, who still have their loves.... I have watched as they have formed a circle of love and support around our sister April.  I have watched state lines and distance evaporate.  I have watched as disbelief, pain, anger, sadness has changed into tones of support, love and dedication to this sisterhood.  I have felt the silent guilt of many as we all secretly thank God it hasn't become us, I have felt many of us reach out to let our spouses know exactly what they mean to us....  I have heard the collective cries for the pain of a mother and a family that could easily become any of us.  

Yes, this week I realized just how many sisters I know who have lost their loves.  I have also been reminded just exactly how it is they were able to take those first steps into the next day after loss..... they were never alone.

May God be with April, Audrey and Johnnie's family.  May each and every one of us remember we are wives on duty.  Our duty most days is to our spouse.... but there are days our duty is to carry our own through loss. 













 
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Grooves and Curveballs - Respect the Groove! The Police Wife Life

10/3/2014

4 Comments

 
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My husband has been an officer for his current department for fourteen years, he’s been an officer for seventeen. And throughout the years one thing has remained consistent relative to his experiences at work, as well as emotional situations in general….. BL is not a talker. And it’s not as if he’s lacking an emotional side or that he’s prone to stifling his feelings, he’s just one of those “it is what it is” kind of LEOs.

LEOs get in a groove… and there’s a big difference between a groove and complacency, however, one can lead to another for some. BL, is just a very matter of fact kind of LEO. He’s very rational when it comes to death and critical incidents and those bad calls that still make me cringe upon hearing about them. He rarely talks about calls, and being a negotiator he’s had some doozies. But it is his style, his groove, and over his seventeen years in law enforcement, it is how he has chosen to cope with what he has seen.

Over the years I have learned his groove. I have learned that not sharing is not the equivalent of him shutting me out. I know not to take it personally if I feel he is upset and I say “you ok?” only to receive a short “Yep…what’s for dinner?” in return. His groove is not about me, it’s not about my feelings. His groove is not about MY need to make sure I feel confident he’s alright. His groove is just that….his own coping mechanism which allows him to function in this life in a way that works for him.

I know his body language. I know when he sits in his chair, only managing to get his shirt and vest off, lingering in his boots (with plastic booties over them…we don’t do stranger DNA in this house), rubbing his forehead with his hands…. that’s a bad day. I know it without him saying a word. If he comes in the door on the phone, clearly dealing with a bad day that’s not going away, I keep my distance until he is done. I don’t impose family time while he’s still trying to finish work time. I don’t take that personally. I know he no more wants to be on the phone explaining to his Sergeant or whoever else he’s still having to talk to about the incident than I do… he walked in the door for a reason, because he’s ready to be home. I continue on with what I’m doing, I tell the boy child “daddy’s on the phone, he’ll be out here in a few minutes” and we let him have that time to be done, decompress, do what LEOs do, shed the gear, get out of the Kevlar, change clothes without the spouse and kids hovering……. I mean… is there any parent (mom’s particularly) who don’t know the struggle of just wanting to go to the bathroom in peace? I get it. I know he’ll join us shortly. If I don’t get the immediate satisfaction of “Acknowledge us, you’re home!”….yeah, I’m not that wife.

Likewise, BL and I would both regard ourselves as a cynical, sarcastic, completely politically incorrect couple… our affection is like a boy and girl throwing rocks on the playground kind of thing. He is sure to grab my a** before he kisses me. His motto has always been “when it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go. Shed a few tears, toss my ashes out the sunroof (uhhm..ewww..no…) and head to Vegas and have a drink knowing I did it my way.” We are not the mushy, gushy, crying kind of pair. We’re too old for jealousy or competition or petty bullsh*t. Drama in any form is not our thing.

So, when my LEO, who has a very well established routine and groove in regard to law enforcement, comes in the door as I would describe “ON FIRE!” literally unleashing a fully animated recount of everything that completely pissed him smooth off and upset him and left him shaking his head while on duty that day…… there’s a moment of “deer in headlights” coming from me. I catch myself in a “whaaat the whaaat? Who is this man?” blank stare before it registers…. HE’S TALKING! Crap! Pay attention WOMAN!

Yesterday was one of those rare days. BL walked in the door and unleashed a detailed account of what had him all riled up upon his return through that door. And he was walking and unleashing…. In and out of the master closet, words flying out of his mouth, you could see the brain was working overtime as he was himself deviating from his groove. I could hear myself thinking “gun…. your gun…in the safe… dude, take your belt off before trying to unzip your shirt” watching him in this off kilter dance that left me sitting on the side of the tub trying to find the balance between listening and knowing when to interject as I, myself, had to absorb the change in his groove.

At some point in there when he was rehashing the same thing he had already said, clearly needing to say it again, clearly trying to come to terms with it on his own, I found myself just staring at him, having my own conversation with myself. I found myself studying him, watching his lips moving but hearing a whole other conversation…. I found myself with a clear image of all the days and all the years this non talking LEO must do this very dance, INTERNALLY, without ever speaking a word.

In that moment, I found myself reminded of everything he deals with and how well he deals with it, which I take for granted because of the groove. He always comes home to a supportive wife, he knows he will never walk into a house of conflict. He knows this is his safe haven. He knows I will never chastise him for his groove and how he deals with his life on duty, but in that moment I was reminded of how much there is within that man, how much it must take for him to walk in our door, head to our closet, do what he does in those moments between 10-8 and 10-7. It’s not just a radio call. It’s more than going off duty. It’s not a switch. And yet, because of his groove, he has learned a way that works for him to enable him to transition from officer to husband and father and lover and friend when his day is done.

It did me a lot of good to be reminded of all he carries with him, whether he unleashes every day or whether his groove only allows him to overflow when he needs to, it is still all there. I’ve got mad respect for a man who can carry it all around and figure out a way to manage it all within his head and his heart and still manage to be the man he is on the home front. And, it makes me even more determined to make sure he comes home to a place that allows him to escape some of it, somehow.

That’s a choice for us both. A determined effort. For him to leave it and come home and LOVE his family. For him to come home and separate the baggage of the badge from the comforts of home. For him to keep separate the frustrations and emotions and turmoil from the streets from the love of his wife and children……..that’s his choice and it must take an effort, simply because of all there is to leave at the door. And he makes that choice, and he emerges after that decompression period with love. And it is my choice and my effort, regardless of my day, regardless of my struggle, to be there to embrace him and remember what he has had to let go of to then be fully available to me and our family.

We all have our grooves. In relationships we have to figure out and remember how to mesh the two and get our groove on together (so to speak). It you can respect each other’s grooves, chances are you’ll be getting your groove on together more often as well.

RESPECT THE GROOVE (but be ready for occasional curveballs).
~Mel ©TPWL

4 Comments

Exhaustion - An Officer's Kryptonite

9/16/2014

6 Comments

 
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"I'm fine"
"It's all good"
"I'll get a Red Bull or some coffee, I'm good"
"It's just four extra hours, we need the money"
"We can open presents on my lunch break, it's holiday pay"

Overtime, grant shifts, off duty security..... it's the way many officers pay their mortgages and buy groceries.  For those who literally find a way to live with extra jobs, it is mind blowing that there are so many departments that don't allow officers to work off duty security.  Those are the officers with completely separate jobs on the side.  They have lawn services, pest control services, construction jobs....whatever it takes to pay the bills.  We are no different.

We went from a two income household to one. Within a year we went from doing pretty great after 15 years in with two incomes to struggling to avoid foreclosure on our newly built home after a diagnosis of autism, dysphagia, apraxia and seizures in our son.  Medical bills piled up, I couldn't keep my job because of all the therapy and specialist appointments... co-pays after insurance jumped quickly to over $600.00 a month... we lost over $4,000 a month in income with me staying home. It didn't take long for it to hit us like a brick.

So, he does what he does.  My husband, the police officer, heads off to his normal 40 hours per week, which never remains just 40 hours.... he picks up every DUI and seat belt enforcement grant shift he can, every estate sale, school dance, football game, pharmacy security, church security, funeral escort....you name it.... if he can work it, he will sign up for it.  Because we need the money and he will do whatever it takes to provide for his family.

7:00 a.m., he leaves for regular shift.  4:00 p.m. he comes home to inhale whatever I've made, or he doesn't come home and grabs something on the way to whatever he's working. 11:00 p.m. he drags in, gets in the shower and falls in bed.  "I'm fine.  I missed you. Don't tell me you feel bad for me. I'll do anything to take care of you and my son".   The teenager's car breaks down..... the other teenager needs help with a car payment....  "Don't worry, I'll find a way".  We owe my mom money... "I'm trying to sell the old fridge in the garage and I have a divorce property division job on Saturday, we'll be alright".    "Babe... I'm working the OU game Saturday and I need to help with a charity event Sunday....don't look at me like that....I'm good... babe... I'm good".

Change the names, change the circumstances, insert your life here. 
We all know too well just how many officers live this way. 

It's like a form of forced denial.  I've always done it.  I've done it before.  It's just one more night. I can do it.   I'll be alright.  It's night shift....I'll be so busy I won't have time to be tired.  Baby....it's a school dance...c'mon, please. That's easy money.  Sound familiar?

Seventeen years...... it's never changed.  He's always been who he is.  He's always done what he does.  He's always been "just fine".  He's always pushed through it. 

Until he didn't.

The noise ringing in my ears.......the smell of gunpowder.  The panic.... where is our son?!? OMG, where is our son?!  Where did it hit?! WHERE IS THE ROUND?!  The neighbors! OMG....you have to run check on the neighbors! They're outside with their babies!   Our son.... our autistic son, stimming...rocking back and forth with his hands over his ears.... his service dog growling at me as if to say "how dare you do this to him, how could you?!"  

Exhaustion.  Pure, complete exhaustion. Too many hours, too little sleep. Bad judgment. Honest, but potentially dreadful error.  What if?  What if?  

Relief.  All is well.  No one hurt.  No one even noticed really... no one but us.  We more than noticed.  It meant much more than what actually happened. It changes everything.

How many times?  How many times have we been in bed together, reading Facebook, looking at stories about "accidental discharge"...... pssshhhhhtt.....  there's no such thing as an "accidental" discharge.  An idiotic discharge, yes.... accidental....no.  That was us.  Time and time again.  Gun safety in this house was as real as a Catholic's religion.  My husband wouldn't even take a pee break without locking his duty weapon in the safe.  Autism brings a whole new meaning to "gun safety".  The precautions we took made many laugh..... "a little over the top, no?"  Umm...no.  Our son has autism.  You want to give Rain Man a thought and see where he takes it?? I didn't think so.  He's soooo smart.  He loves guns.  He knows they're here.  He has autism. Enough said.    Well....almost enough. 


All it took was one too tired night.  All it took was "decompression" gone wrong.  No one was hurt.  Our son wasn't even near the chaos.... it doesn't matter though.  It happened.  An "accidental" discharge of my husband's personal weapon, inside the house. He was off duty.  It was not his service weapon.  That doesn't change it personally for us.

It is one of those humbling moments..... not the best option either.  It comes in many forms.  Our LEO's push themselves too hard, too much.  They wear that "S" on the chest because it is what they do. It is not just physical draining, it is emotional. 

Whether internal political upper brass comes into play, or emotional fallout from bad calls or critical incidents wears on them, or the chaos of home is brought to work.....nothing good can come from it.  

There is "THAT" kind of officer......family man
, friend, confidant, helper, saver, fixer, perfectionist....SUPERMAN/WOMAN.  You know who you are. You know exactly what I'm talking about.  

I have news for you...

YOU ARE NOT SUPERMAN. PERIOD. YOU ARE NOT.

You are a human being. You NEED rest.  Your body REQUIRES rest. Your heart, soul, emotional well being CRAVES restoration.   And you continually ignore it. 
We know why you ignore it. It is because of us. It is because of your family, your friends, your brothers and sisters. It is because you are desperately trying to keep your nose clean at work. You want that promotion. You want things a little easier on your family.  Hell, you just want to stay out of trouble! Even in your stress you're thinking about us. We get it.

You are our superman.  You are our Superwoman.  You are our Superheroes. 
You've forgotten yourself.
You are able to be there for us for only so long. It will catch up with you. It will greet you at the worst time. You will have to answer to it.  Or.... you can prevent it.

I love my husband with every fiber of my being. He is the best husband and father I could ever comprehend. He is overly cautious with us, it is part of what  is so appealing.  He is always in protective mode.   There is nothing that man wouldn't do for his family.   Tonight he is asking himself how he would live with himself if something else had happened. 

We share this not because it's a joy....but because it might be a needed wake up call to just one other person.

Exhaustion breeds complacency.  Complacency breeds errors. Errors are deadly.
We need all our families to be safe. 

If you are a LEO,   PLEASE, PLEASE ask yourself....do you need a break?  If the answer is yes, find a way.  If you are a LEO spouse, ask yourself....have you checked in lately? Have you seriously asked your loved one how they are?  Do it.  If you know they need a break, ask. Plan. Take measures in your own hands (easier said than done, how I know).   Take care of yourselves!


Blessings and prayers for safety to all our first responders tonight.

~Mel

Melisa Littles, Founder
The Police Wife LIfe



6 Comments

It Is How They Lived.  How Heroes are Made.

9/9/2014

10 Comments

 
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Four officers lost in the line of duty in a matter of days.

Deputy Sheriff Joseph Matuskovic

Charleston County Sheriff's Office, South Carolina
End of Watch: Monday, September 8, 2014
43 years of age.  Killed by gunfire.  17 year veteran law enforcement officer.  The same age as my husband.....the same amount of years in.  Gone too soon.

Corporal Jason E. Harwood
Topeka Police Department, Kansas
End of Watch: September 7, 2014
40 years of age. Killed by gunfire.  He served with the Topeka PD for 15 years. He leaves a wife and two children.


Patrolman II Nickolaus Schultz

Merrillville Police Department, IN
End of Watch: September 7, 2014
Only 24 years of age.  Just over one year of law enforcement service.
The same age as my oldest daughter.  Gone... at the hands of a suspect wearing body armor who ambushed responding officers, shooting Patrolman Schultz in the head.

Police Officer Daryl Pierson
Rochester Police Department, NY
End of Watch: September 3, 2014
Only 32 years of age.  A National Guard Veteran with eight years of law enforcement service. He leaves behind a wife and two young children. Killed by gunfire by a man on parole for just three weeks after serving time for an attempted armed robbery.

A brief description of four men, who wore a badge.  Each of them were murdered in their efforts to prevent further harm to their communities. Each of them gave their lives, not because they signed up to be murdered. Not because they signed up to be ambushed. Not because they signed up to be hunted.  They laid down their lives for their fellow man, because of who they were.  They died because of their honorable character.  They died because they placed more worth on the lives of those around them than they did themselves.  
Sadly... I won't even finish this article without having more names to add. It is the sad reality we have been dealt lately.

Each and every one of those men have families.  They have parents, siblings, spouses, children, grandparents.  They have best friends from church, from academy, from high school, from college.  They spent their time off duty doing for others. They went out of their way to be THAT friend.  They were always willing to help their fellow man.  They would give up time with their own families for another in need.  They felt a beaming pride for the support they received from the ones who loved them which made it possible to head out on those streets each day and night.  They felt loved.  They felt loved enough to fight. They fought the fight to make it home to those who loved them....to those who prayed for them each time they walked away. 

They had quirky smiles and mischievous laughs that filled the halls of their homes.  They loved the occasional date night with their wives when the babies finally slept and the velcro came off at 3:00am and they curled up in bed and caught up on DVR episodes.  Their wives would breathe in their smell and silently thank God for a "date night" which lasted ten minutes before exhaustion took over..... because they were safe. They had their loves, for one more day. 

I could go on and on about the kind of men they were, the honorable lives they led, the influences they had on those they encountered, the love in their hearts.... it didn't take personally knowing them to read all about them on social media from those who did.  It is clear each and every one of them will leave a legacy.  That legacy is HONOR.   For as much as these men were individuals, one thing which describes them
all is BROTHERS.   They were Brothers in Blue and they lived with Honor.  We know they lived with honor because they gave their lives honoring an oath.  There's an oath which dictates that part of what you willingly sign up for is the risk of laying down your life for your fellow man.  Each of them did.... honorably.  With dignity, with pride, and with a fight to honor their promise to make it home alive. They did their best.  

We owe these men our respect.  We owe their families our respect.  Whether we are the typical supporters of law enforcement, whether we bleed blue or not, whether we believe there's honor in what these men and women of law enforcement do every day.... we should all possess enough humanity to respect what has happened here. 

These four men have nothing to do with any other injustices in law enforcement.  It's not their fault felons and parolees and fleeing suspects decided that day was the day they would take another life.  These four men.... and so many others like them, got up that day, strapped on a vest, holstered a gun on their sides
and a brass target on their chests.... and they did it for their communities.... and they died.

We live in a world hell bent on blame and denial and accusations and opinions and being heard and being a voice and being justified.  We live in a world entitled to it all.  We live in a world where we purposely seek out posts on the internet, not for the stories told, but for the comment fights which follow.  We immerse ourselves in perpetuated hate filled drama where everything, whether life or death or disease or natural disaster has a joke in the form of a meme to belittle the point at hand. We live in a world where the media could care less about the lives they destroy as ratings trump reality and humanity is nothing more than a lost side note.  We live in a world where organized hate is alive and well and yes, we live in a world where law enforcement is guilty of their own injustices.....just as every single other occupation is as well.    

We live in a world which has lost the ability to simply let there be an appropriate time and place for personal opinion,  where kindness and human nature and sympathy, regardless of personal feelings, are more important.  We live in a world where having our own opinions validated trumps the pain of others. 
We live in a world where no one can just put it all aside for a moment, take a step back and say..... someone gave their life today, selflessly, because it was a job and they purposely signed up for that job knowing it could happen.  We live in a world where for some ungodly reason, tax dollars make that perfectly fine and where common decency isn't required.  We live in a world where the babies of these officers would hear from many that their daddy deserved to die....and so do every one of daddy's friends who carry his casket.

My God.... what have we become for our children?  What is our legacy?

You can call me partial.  You can call me brainwashed.  You can call me whatever you please.  I call myself a wife of an amazing man, my best friend, the father of my children.  The father of my autistic son who has more patience and love and kindness and compassion for his family and others than anyone I've ever known.   I know seventeen years later he's still a good officer and he's still in law enforcement for the right reason.... to make a difference.  I know I'm married to a man who will be remembered for how he lived.   I pray to God I am allowed to grow old with him.  I pray for each and every person praying the same prayer and for those who loved an officer and don't get that chance. 

Tonight, I don't care about the hate or the right to free speech or the entitlement or the injustices which have nothing to do with these four men.  I don't care about those who say "they signed up for it, if they can't handle it, too bad".  I don't care about those who choose to remove all humanity from human beings.  Tonight I care about honoring these officers for how they lived.  Tonight I care about the reminder that so many of them live the same way.
The streets are full of the good ones tonight.  They are all keeping their promise in mind...the promise to make it home alive.  Each and every honorable officer is out on those streets knowing, without a doubt, they have a duty to their communities, that duty might include laying down their lives, and they are thanking God for their brothers and sisters in blue who have taken and honor the same oath.  

My husband asked me once after a long, trying stretch of bad days.... "Why?  Why do you support me in this crazy life? Why do you love me so much?  I answered him with the raw truth.... "I love you for who you are, I love you so much more to make up for all of those who hate you".   

Regardless of who you are or what you do in this life, ask yourself honestly..... what is your legacy?



Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.  John 15:13

Melissa Littles, Founder
The Police Wife Life, LLC






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10 Comments

You're Just a Cop. For what it's worth.

9/8/2014

 
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What will it take to see the truth about law enforcement?

Our Law Enforcement Officers are being murdered as well as laying down their lives on duty every 58 hours. They are being shot while sitting at traffic lights. Executed in coffee shops and on their lunch breaks. Lured into ambushes and blown away while removing debris from the roadway, or while responding to an alarm call which was a set up. They are being killed in their own driveways, while off duty. They are being shot inside their own precincts.

If celebrities or professional athletes were being targeted, shot and murdered to the tune of one dead every 58 hours there would be an instant demand for answers and protection. There would be a national cry to stop the violence before it impacted reality tv or sports center.

Regardless of proven statistics which tell us otherwise, our officers continue to get blamed as a whole for the actions of less than one percent*. Regardless of common sense in a world where we have all encountered a bad mechanic, doctor, plumber, we blame ALL cops for the few.  Regardless of countless corrupt priests, teachers, crooked judges and lawyers, we do not condemn their entire profession, it's asinine to even consider. But with law enforcement, it is instant condemnation of all.

What exactly does an officer have to do for you to say his/her life has worth? What will it take for you to see the family waiting at home, praying theirs isn’t the next officer down? What will it take for the citizens of this country to say without them, who will make these sacrifices?  Will you? Are you ready to be the target? Are you ready to line up your family and friends and know one of you will not come home every other day?

Our law enforcement officers are humans. When will it be enough to say something’s got to give?  Even for those who hate the police….you’ll be the first to dial 911 when you need them and you will expect them to run lights blazing to your rescue, after all, you pay their salary.

What happens when they say, sorry, it’s too dangerous, you’re on your own. You hate us anyway, so do as you see fit. YOU stand in front of the bullet and protect your own family. You pry your mangled wife out of the wreckage you caused while drunk and give her CPR in front of your children. You stand in the pouring rain in the dead of night on an expressway and protect your own car from being hit by a semi until the tow truck gets there. You unlock your own car you left your keys in. You change your own tire when 8 months pregnant in 102 degree heat. You stand in front of your own abusive husband and his weapon and his fist and tell him to leave your home without harming you.

You get in your own car and race to stop someone who stole from you or hit your car a few miles back. You enter your neighborhood store and approach a masked man with a shotgun and reason with him not to kill you or those in the store.  You go knock on the neighbor’s door who has a warrant, a house full of weapons and a sign on the door that says “don't tread on me”.

You watch for drunks out of control on the highway in an ice storm. You pray they don't kill you. You respond to suicide calls and cut teenagers from makeshift nooses in their garages or scrape their brain matter out of the soles of your boots. You tell their parents what happened while they were out socializing, again.

You walk into a house with no power in 105 degree heat containing the bodies of an entire family, including babies, now maggot infested and unidentifiable by anything other than the stench of rotten death.  You walk up to cars who have nearly run you off the road only to be met with a gun in your face and no time to react.  

You try and coax a brutally beaten and savagely raped teenager the same age as your own daughter out of the closet where she was left to die as she holds a knife to her own throat. You convince her tomorrow will be better.

You hate the police? You have no use for them? You think they’re worthless?  Do it yourself. Worry about it all on your own. You surely can do better. You surely are wiser than those lazy, corrupt, doughnut eating fools you don’t give the time of day to when you hear they were gunned down while you went on about your business.  Please, give them a rest and do it yourself.

You might want to hug your family and have your affairs in order before you head out, there's a very real chance you’ll never make it home, of course that’s no big deal….you signed up for that, and my tax dollars allow me to ignore your worth. After all, you're just a cop.

Oh, and you sure as hell better do it all perfectly, every single time. After all, you're not human anymore. You're just a cop. No one cares if you get it right...but you sure as hell better never get it wrong...because a good cop who did get it right will get his head blown off in an entirely different state if you screw up. That goes for you too, by the way. Better pray all 740,000 do right by that badge today, if not... It's all on you, because all cops are bad cops, right?

Melissa Littles, Founder
TPWL© 2014
The Police Wife Life, LLC

*statistics based on FBI full year crime data reports based on latest three full years ended in 2012.

**please be advised the reference to "don't tread on me" is not a political statement or opinion. It refers to a real life incident where officers responded to a domestic call which turned out to be a Marine vet/former police officer with PTSD. That sign let those officers know they were possibly dealing with one of their own, and sure enough they were. The subject opened fire through his front door, wounding one officer in the head.  The point in mentioning the sign was to show that our LEOs encounter all walks of life, and sometimes they even encounter one of their own, and even in that scenario...they must do their duty diligently. 



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Retrospect and Forethought

9/2/2014

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I look back at my own words over the last year and see the recurring theme; how to handle being a LEOW. How to handle constant change, how to be flexible, how to maintain your sanity in the face of your own fears; how to stay calm through adversity.  I talk about being patient, being kind, being forgiving. I’ve talked about learning to give before expecting to receive. I’ve talked about the rewards received when you eliminate selfishness from your mentality.  I’ve talked about having faith, being honest, owning your own faults, accepting your weaknesses and growing through them until they become strengths.  I’ve talked about being strong, being independent, being capable. I’ve talked about letting go and letting God. I’ve talked about knowing your limits, knowing when to step back, take a break, allow your LEO to be your backup, your superhero.

 

I’ve found myself at that end of the spectrum, that place where you realize you are all about preaching and not practicing, all about supporting and not accepting; all about helping others to find their way while you stand still on a dead end road.  I’ve found myself being forced to acknowledge the vast difference between wants and capability; the difference between your dreams of change, your hopes and visions of a better future; your belief that somehow, someway the world can still be stirred enough to evolve……and the reality that all you’ve dreamed of is as easy to reach as lassoing the moon.

 

I’ve realized that regrets are useless until they invoke enlightenment. I’ve realized that enlightenment without the next leap of fate is futile. I’ve come to terms with the fact that failure is a part of everyday reality, but it is the knowledge and strength you gain from failure which drives you to determined achievement.

 

I’ve learned that you can never change the past, but the future is always in your own hands.  I’ve learned that self-pity is nothing more than fear of accomplishment. I’ve learned that low expectations are a form of personal protection. I’ve learned that forgiveness is more about allowing yourself to move forward than allowing those who have hurt you to be free from guilt they most likely never possessed.  I’ve learned that goals and aspirations are attainable only as long as you ignore those who desire to relish in your demise.  I’ve learned you are only as worthy as the worth you see in yourself. I’ve learned ambition is tireless and complacency is deadly. 

 

I’ve learned that moments are to be treasured, memories are made of moments, true love is unconditional and time does not heal all wounds. I’ve learned that loving unconditionally is not always painless but is always prosperous, although not always realized in the manner you expected.  I’ve learned at times you must walk away from what you have always known in order to find the path which has been right in front of your eyes. I’ve learned that faith is blind and requires you to trust your own instinct.  I’ve learned honesty is always the best policy as without it you are continually falsifying your own character.  I’ve learned character is defined not only by actions but by intent.  I’ve learned that owning your faults is the best path to conquering your own personal obstacles. I’ve learned acceptance of self is the first step to personal growth.  I’ve learned that facing your fears is a step towards peace. I’ve learned that peace only comes from resignation of the past and the release of fault, whether by others or yourself.  I’ve learned that contentment is priceless and gratitude is invaluable.

 

One thing I’ve left to learn is how to accept that which cannot be changed.  How to relinquish control of what you thought you knew as truth. How to resign yourself that time only moves forward and regardless of how forgiving and accepting and tolerable you are, it is still that which can never be changed that haunts us.   And it is then that you find yourself right back where you started, relearning all you have come to know again….until you make peace with yourself and are able to let go, forever learning, forever growing. We can always do better.

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Dear Wal-Mart Stock Boy, From the Special Needs Mom, I See What You Did There.

8/31/2014

18 Comments

 
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It was one of those days. A day when autism and sensory overload had a grip on my son from the moment his eyes opened before the crack of dawn.  It is those same days which always seem to coincide with days in which things must get done. Days when you must make it to feeding, swallowing, speech, occupational or ABA therapy. Days when you've had that post op GI appointment or another therapy eval which took six months to schedule.  It is the same days where prescriptions are waiting to be picked up and where there is absolutely nothing left to eat in the house.

Autism could care less what you absolutely have to get done on any given day. Sensory Processing Disorder seems to enjoy causing mayhem in the lives of those it torments. That day, was no exception.  From the complaints of his clothes being itchy and his hair being "sharp" and the smell of my coffee being "deezgusting" and making him want to "bomit", I knew this day would be a peach.  He was on the verge of a full fledged meltdown and there was no question....it wasn't a matter of if, but when. 

I loaded my son into the SUV, along with his cup of apple juice, his bottle of water (just in case), his blue police car, NOT the red truck,  the red truck is gross! His American flag, his one orange flip flop, his one blue flip flop, his baggie of chips, his wet wipes and hand sanitizer and his chewy sensory necklace.  Oh...headphones. NEVER forget the headphones.  I then loaded Service Dog Kozmo, his leash, his tether, his backpack and his portable dog bowl.....and NOW, we are finally ready to attempt a Wal-Mart trip which is only a mile from our house. 

As we pulled into the parking lot, and not before, it dawned on me that I hadn't given one thought to my attire, nor my personal appearance. I don't know what upset me more....the fact that I never even crossed my own mind, or that when I finally did, I still didn't have the energy to care.  As I looked in the rear view mirror thoughts of "that can't be healthy" and "Oh well, who gives a rats ass" kept swirling around in my head.  I quickly adjusted the mirror out of my line of sight and focused on the task at hand.


As we made our way across the parking lot it began.... sensory overload and complaints of the heat of the sun making his head itch, the wind making his shirt touch his skin, the tether around his waist being scratchy and the noise!! The unbearable noise of shopping carts resonating the noise of vibrating wheels bouncing off the pavement, amplified in the ears of the boy who smells and sees and feels and hears everything on an elevated level.  Right in the middle of the crosswalk the dog begins to alert as he is trained to do, pulling me towards my son, blocking him in order to shield him from his own environment and I forcibly struggle to get them out of the parking lot and into the store.  We spend the next fifteen minutes searching for the perfect cart amongst carts which will never be perfect.  Too squeaky, too rattly, too shaky, too bouncy.....pushing cart after cart for a test drive until finally we find one which won't make his skin crawl.

We weren't even three rows in before it began..... between the smells of the bakery and deli, to the chatter of store patrons amongst themselves, to the brightness of the fluorescent lighting, the clatter of shopping cart wheels askew,  to the shrills and shrieks of those seeing a fire breathing unicorn.....err..... service dog, in a store for the first time, I had no doubt that I had perhaps, if lucky, 15 minutes before a meltdown of mass proportion took place right in the middle of the frozen food aisle.  The thought of cart ditching and bolting for the parking lot ever increasingly present in my mind, I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the dairy freezer door.  Embarrassment in the form of a flushed heat crawling up the back of my neck as my eyes filled with tears, I struggled to hold it together.  Memories flooding back of just two summers before when I threw on short shorts and a workout tank with a ball cap and leisurely looked amazing while I took my time in the organic aisle while the hubby watched our son, now replaced with my own reflection of sloppy yoga pants, my husband's t-shirt and yesterday's mascara still in place while I juggled an angry overloaded child on the verge and a service dog having an anxiety attack over the state of his boy.  Hot mess was the ultimate understatement and for whatever reason the reality of my title of "Special Needs Mom" seemed to hit me like a wave of bricks.

And then.....it happened.

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

Umm.....yes?

"I just wanted to say you're an extremely beautiful woman and mother"

Huh? Crickets. What? Me? Deer in headlights. Speechless.

Let me be perfectly clear that I immediately knew, with 150% certainty that this nineteen year old (at best) was in no way hitting on this 44 year old hot mess of a mom.  It was much more than that.  After thanking him, with tears rolling down my face, I soaked up that comment like a thirsty sponge.  "beautiful woman and mother".

I'll never know if this young man has a sibling with special needs, or if he was raised by a single mother who struggled to make it on her own.  Or if he was raised by his father after losing his mother, or if he experienced some sort of pain which led him to be so intuitive.  Whatever the case may be, he was clearly raised right and this young man looked well past the surface of a clearly discombobulated woman and he spoke directly to my pain.  He spoke his words with purposeful intent. He spoke the words he knew I needed to take to heart.  "You are a beautiful woman and mother".  It was as if, for whatever reason, he knew my focus was on the surface that day.... and he reminded me of the center of my world. 

Regardless of whether we have special needs kids or not, mothers are particularly prone to
putting themselves on the back burner for the sake of their families. There are plenty of fathers and step parents and foster parents and grandparents who do the same.  I personally try to keep a balance but will be the first to admit that by the time I tackle autism, I'm just plain worn out. I dedicate all that I have to my son and his needs and to my police officer husband who has taken on every extra job and grant shift in order for me to be home with our son. I am admittedly the last thought on my list.

For the Wal-Mart employee that day..... I see what you did there.  I thank you for the reminder, and I want you to know how much I needed to hear it.  I hope all those who are dedicated to their children take the time to remember just how beautiful they truly are, especially when beautiful is the last thing they feel.  It takes a beautiful soul to dedicate your life to others.  I can only pray that I will raise a son as compassionate as that young man in Wal-Mart the other day.  Faith in humanity.....restored.

~Mel
The Adventures of Izzy & Kozmo






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Ferguson and Future Generations of Law Enforcement

8/22/2014

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A status popped up on my personal feed today. It was posted by a good family friend, an Oklahoma deputy who is an amazing  husband and daddy to three little ones. Like many little boys who have a mommy or daddy in law enforcement, Eric's little boy looks up to his daddy....his hero.  And when I read his status it stopped me cold...because for the first time, I think it truly hit me, that I could relate.   It has only been in the last year that I have had thoughts that I cannot wait until my husband has his twenty-five in and in the meantime I will continue to try and convince him we can make it somehow financially if he gets out at twenty. It has only been in the past year or so that I began to sincerely hope and pray our son loses his interest in law enforcement.   It has only been in the last year or so that I've had pangs of fear in thinking my son would follow in his father's footsteps.  And to be honest, it saddens me greatly to have those feelings.

The following is a copy of the status which Deputy Eric Haskins posted tonight.  I think it speaks volumes.  And in a way, I think it's a sad truth for many of us.   I pray to God it changes.  We need to get back to the days when children saw law enforcement officers as heroes and when parents taught children from an early age that respect for authority is a good thing. We need to get back to the place where police officers instill thoughts of safety and refuge and protection to the masses and where the sensationalized glorification of every bad deed by an officer isn't sought out for a rise in ratings by mainstream media. We need to get back to the day when a cop delivering a baby on the side of the road or a deputy helping the elderly make it across the street or a trooper allowing kids to remain cool in their cruiser while changing a tire for a stranded mother is newsworthy and how the public perceives us because our actions allow nothing else to be considered.  We need to get back to the days where the public doesn't condemn us all for the actions of a few.  I pray those days return, but I fear they will not....and therefore, I fear for the future generations of law enforcement.  It amazes me that it seems to escape those bound and determined to eliminate the thin blue line... as if there's been no consideration for the anarchy which would become without the peacekeepers.
~Mel


by Deputy Eric Haskins
My Son: Dad, I want to be a Deputy just like you when I grow up.

Me: NO!!!

Son: But I really want to help people, like you, and get bad guys.

Me: No!!!

Years ago, I would dream of my son following in my footsteps. Ferguson has once again instilled in me that I want none of my children following my footsteps. I refuse to let my kids be judged in the court of public opinion by people who have never put on a shield and stood toe to toe with evil. I render no opinion on the shooting itself, but once again a sector of the population has risen up to vilify someone for a choice that was made under duress. A choice that the individual has to live with the rest of his life. Is nobody asking what choices the young man made that put him in that situation? I mean from all accounts, I believe that almost everybody agrees that he was the suspect reported from the robbery, right?

That officer put on his armor, went to work and stood his ground against a documented strong armed robbery suspect. A suspect whose pictures simply portray a young man in a cap and gown, because the state sponsored media refuses to post the pictures of him throwing gang signs and pointing a pistol at the camera. Three teens killed a person in this state for fun, but because the color scheme was reversed, the media largely ignored it.

The Attorney General of the United States visited the family. The President of the United States spoke to the family. Trayvon Martin's mother posted an open letter in Time magazine all but calling for increased violence.

Why was the same not done with the officer? Because the administration itself encourages the drama. It's good for business, takes the attention off the man behind the curtain.

"if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land." (2 Chronicles 7:14 NIV)
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The LEOW Challenge  #leowchallenge

8/19/2014

70 Comments

 
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There's a new challenge in town. A challenge to all those who love a law enforcement officer.  The challenge comes in the wake of the wave of condemnation, distrust, apathy and hatred for so many in law enforcement, when there is no validity to justify it.  Those of us in the law enforcement community are accustomed to such hatred. There's nothing new about the media sensationalizing every bad cop story they can get their hands on and ignoring every good cop story under the pretense of "that's their job and my tax dollars pay for that".   Well, here's the deal.... 99.9999% of officers are remarkable men and women who put their lives on the line daily in order to save the lives of innocents.  Those officers will lay down their lives without hesitation for one of their own in need, or for a citizen whose life is in danger.  However.... there is a growing misguided opinion amongst the public that there's not much more to an officer than the badge on their chest and the power it holds..... and that is the farthest thing from the truth. 

THE CHALLENGE IS THIS:  TELL WHO YOUR OFFICER (OR THE ONE YOU KNOW AND LOVE) REALLY IS ASIDE FROM THE BADGE.  I accept the challenge started by LEOW Davina Agee, and I challenge each and every officer spouse, partner, loved one, friend and family member to do the same.  Use the hashtag #leowchallenge and continue the challenge by tagging friends, family and supporters of LE to take the challenge.

The Officer in my life is my husband, and this is who he really is....
(and being an advocate for law enforcement, I'm including who my officer is, including the badge).

Officer Bervis Littles of the Edmond, OK Police Department is a 17+ year veteran patrol officer. He is also a suicide prevention officer, and QPR (suicide prevention) instructor. He is a member of the Crisis Intervention Team.  He is an FTO and LEDT instructor, a hostage negotiator, lake patrol officer, SRO and member of the honor guard team.   He grew up in poverty on the south side of Oklahoma City never knowing or meeting his father.  His mother worked numerous jobs to make ends meet and he spent a lot of his time being cared for by other family members while his single mother was doing her best to care for her children.  He saw drugs and crime and violence on his local streets....  He worked in order to help his mother and make a way for himself to attend college. He pursued his lifelong dream of becoming a police officer and has been an officer for over 17 years.  He is a father, a brother, a son, a husband, and a best friend to many.  He has three grown step-children, two girls in college and a son with autism, dysphagia and seizure disorders.  He has a work ethic like nothing I've ever seen.  He's missed virtually every holiday, birthday and anniversary I can remember because he will do what it takes to provide for his family and he refuses to leave a shift shorthanded. 

He has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever seen.  There are countless times our checking account has been overdrawn while waiting for payday and he has used the last bit of security money in his pocket to put gas in the car of a stranded single mother.  He has had to remove countless children from domestic situations and sickening home environments and he quickly pulls a stuffed animal from his trunk, asks the child what music he/she likes, then drives them to get a meal before having to hand them over to the state.  It is those same nights you will find him lingering in the hallway of our home at 3am while he gazes into the bedroom of our son, while holding back tears for the babies he just left in a state of uncertainty.   He is the officer who is approached over a decade later by a man who approaches him seemingly out of nowhere to say "You are Officer Littles, you held my sister's hand while she was dying on the roadway. She was pregnant and scared and dying and alone...... and you never left her side".   He is the same officer who will choke back his emotions immediately after an encounter like that, squeeze my hand and simply say "I need to get out of here...now".   You see, he's not allowed to be human in the public eye.  He's just a badge.  He's worthless.  He's aggressive.  He's violent.  He's a bully.  He's got a chip on his shoulder.  He's looking for a reason to kill someone.    Nothing is farther from the truth. 

He's the big strong man whose cried in my arms after losing a child.  He's the arrogant cop I've had to wake in the midst of nightmares more nights than I can remember..... and upon waking he says "I couldn't get to them quick enough".  He's the officer who works over 80 hours per week, comes home exhausted and lays in the floor to play with his son.  He's the big tough guy who had certain dreams and goals and hopes for his only son, only to have to accept his son is autistic... and he immediately embraced it and took on the attitude of "what do we do to help our son be all he can be?"  He is the man who encouraged me to quit my job in the legal field, knowing it was more than his income, knowing how devastating it would financially be, but who put more value on me being with our son for evaluations and therapies and surgeries and homeschooling, even though it meant even more sacrifice for himself in order to pay the bills.  He is the man who took his mother in to live with us and support financially so she could enjoy some sort of retirement.  He is the father who still helps his daughters who are in college by paying their cell phone and insurance bills.  He is the officer who will get a call from a friend while he is off duty...keys locked in a car, locked out of your house, problems with your teenager?? Call my husband....he's your man. 

He's the school resource officer who will get discredited after seventeen years on the street for becoming a "babysitter", even though he has more arrests and drug busts and thefts in the schools than he ever did on the streets. He will take the time to mentor every child in those schools who were just like him growing up.....no father, no money and a feeling of hopelessness and he will encourage them and guide them and make them promise him they won't give up on themselves. 

He's the officer who takes the time to talk with those he is obligated to arrest. He will ask them how they ended up in his back seat, he will not be so quick to judge them for their actions but will encourage them to ask themselves what they can do to change their own lives.

He's the love of my life.  He's the man who came into my life after I was married to a bad cop.  He's the one who showed me that his character defined him, not his badge.  He is the man who showed me love I never thought possible.  He's the man who loved me back to life.  He's the father of my son, he's my best friend, he's my world.  He's the one I beg and plead and pray will be returned to me at the end of his shift.  He's the one I want to grow old with.....not grow old remembering. 

This is who my officer truly is.  Please..... please take note before hating him without knowing him. 

To all the LEOWs and to those who love an officer..........please...... tell me about yours.

~Mel
Melissa Littles, Founder,
The Police Wife Life.


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When it's "Just us"  -  The Police Wife Life

8/18/2014

22 Comments

 
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"Sometimes there's justice, sometimes there's just us".

Sure seems to be true lately.  Almost a million law enforcement officers in the country, yet the attention is on one. One human being, who wears the badge, who has been prematurely convicted by the media and a hypocritically pathetic, isolated group of misguided individuals.  Sadly, the way sensationalized news works in this country, the attention will remain on one.  And here's the thing.... that one, Officer Darren Wilson, is all of us.  He is literally "just us". 

When one officer comes into the spotlight in this country, it instantly becomes representative of us all.  "All Cops"... how many times can we hear that?  Yes, now my husband is Officer Wilson, and every female officer is Officer Wilson, and every other officer is Officer Wilson and every police wife is married to Officer Wilson.  When a "bad cop" story hits mainstream media and the public with nothing better to do..... the entire thin blue line becomes Officer Wilson.

Isn't it ironic how that only works one way?  There were countless acts of heroism and life saving efforts and compassion and kindness and service to the communities across this country over the past week.  There are officers being placed in life threatening situations in Ferguson who have nothing to do with the anger which is being spewed due to the hatred of Officer Wilson.  There are multiple officers who were shot, mowed over, and even lost their lives while honoring their commitment to protecting and serving their communities all across the US in the past week..... yet all we hear about is Officer Wilson.

And here's the thing..... that's alright.  It's alright because right now there's "just us" and right now we're all Officer Darren Wilson has.  We're his family and his family's family.  And every other brother and sister of the thin blue line is doing just what they do... "we've got your back".  They have his six, and they have each others.  Each and every member of the thin blue line family is more than willing to take a stand for Officer Darren Wilson, and we do so, not based on disregard for the law, not based on disregard for the pending investigation, but because he has been convicted by many without the process leading to justice.  That leaves "just us" to stand for him.

Across this nation in the past week we have done as we always do.  Our officers have strapped Kevlar on their chests and a duty weapon on their sides and have charted into the same territory which places a target on their characters and backs simply for taking a daily stance against the evil and madness which would seek to cause mayhem and tragedy upon the lives of innocents.   There are many outside of "just us" who do, in fact, support us. They pray for the safety of our LEOs and they themselves fear the misguided collective hatred for "just us".

Yes, something happens to "just us" during times like these.  We realize how alone we are, we are reminded just how much judgment there is from those who could never understand without walking in our shoes.  Yet, we are also reminded of what a remarkable line that is which stands between good and evil.   It is times like this that our pride is restored and we forget about the politics and bad morale and defeating feelings which are brought on when it seems the world is against us.  We stand together for what's right, regardless of copious amounts of idiocy being aimed at us all. 

Times like these can easily invoke emotions in us all which leave us questioning what the hell we were thinking about when we dove into this crazy life of law enforcement.... however, if we remain focused, and we push aside our fears and frustrations and anger and anguish, we can look into this chaotic world and easily remember why we're all here.  Because there's "Just us".   Who else will be "just us"?  Without our LEOs to walk that line and stand between good and evil, we would all be in a constant state of anarchy.  

At any moment, any officer can become Darren Wilson.  It takes a split second.  I would say we all need to remember that when we get sick and tired of the ridiculousness which has become of it..... however, I don't have to say that.  Officer Darren Wilson needs us to stand for him and we all know he would do the same for each one of  "just us". 

Prayers for strength, safety and a huge dose of patience for all our LEOs and LE families today.

~Mel



22 Comments

Ferguson Riots - Accountability,   The Police Wife Life 

8/17/2014

14 Comments

 
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This is a follow up post from my Ferguson Riots, As seen from a different point of view post. 

A week has passed since the death of M. Brown.  Although new information continues to come to light, there are still many unanswered questions.  We now know the name of the officer who shot the deceased. We have now seen video surveillance tape of the deceased participating in a strong armed robbery just prior to his death. We have an admission from his friend who was with him that they indeed participated in the strong armed robbery just prior to his death.  We also have the words of the Ferguson Chief of Police that the strong armed robbery was unrelated to the death of M. Brown.  We have numerous accounts from eye witnesses and hearsay accounts from those close to the officer.  We have a sketchy recording of an unidentified bystander who witnessed the shooting which seems to corroborate the hearsay testimony of those close to the officer.  What we still do not have are any conclusive investigative results which corroborates either side's version, and therefore, despite any of our rushes to judgment, in reality, we are all as we began....waiting.  That being said, just as in my first post, I will not be commenting on the guilt or innocent theories in my own head, and will be addressing matters which have caused my head to spin in the past week.

In my first article on the Ferguson riots I made it clear I was posting from the view of being a white woman who is married to a black police officer. I also stated that our children are bi-racial.  I am writing this article based on the same perspective, as it is the only perspective I can have. It is who I am, and it is who we are as a family.

I have read countless postings and watched countless news stories and press releases over the past week.  One theme seems to resonate - sensationalized bandwagon jumping.  The media is guilty of it. Citizens are guilty of it. Politicians are guilty of it and organized groups are guilty of it.  I've done my best to not jump the same bias bandwagon of my choice and I will be the first to own, it's difficult for me.  My husband is an officer and I do not like what I am seeing aimed at law enforcement as a WHOLE, rather than at the individual officer involved. Likewise I am having a difficult time reconciling how those who are demanding justice have already condemned this officer before the facts are conclusive, when they are taking such a devout view that is was prejudgment that led to the death of M. Brown.

In my previous post I stated that racism is alive and real in this country, and it most certainly is.  Being a white woman married to black police officer with mixed race children, one of who has special needs, and living in the bible belt of America in a relatively affluent suburb, I can assure you I have experienced racism on many occasions and on many levels.

I have been approached by white women at Wal-mart who have thanked me for adopting my "poor little black boy".  I have been approached by black women who have given their snide comments that I "took another black man off the market".  I have been told countless times by white people "Oh, I saw your husband on his police motorcycle yesterday", and I have witnessed my husband experience racism on more levels that I could put into words.   I have had people in the waiting area of hospitals and doctor's offices ask me if I am a caretaker for the special needs child with me..."you know, like foster care?", and I have been told that mixing the races "gave that boy the autism".

First of all.... I never knew the adoption agency had access to my uterus and should they have asked to deliver the little black boy via my birth canal I would have taken issue with that.  I "got" that little black boy the old fashioned way, thanks very much.   Secondly, although he was extremely attractive, I did not tote my Glock into the police department, place it to my husband's head and force him "off the market" and into a relationship with me, nor did I force him to procreate with me, nor am I responsible for why he's never dated or married a black woman, he seems to have a mind of his own and is in fact, a grown ass man.  You will have to take up that question with him.  I'm sure glad he chose me.  Thirdly, you have never seen my husband on a police motors unit... he is not a motors unit officer and never has been.  There IS however, a black officer in our city (one of only four out of over 100 officers) that is a motors cop.... so you actually saw a black officer on a police motorcycle... I know... easy mistake... especially in this town where there's only four black officers who look exactly alike (sarcasm intended).  And as far as "mixing the races" being a cause of autism.... how about dysphagia? and seizure disorders? Our son has that as well, so I just need to know if I should check into that.... and could you explain all the white and asian and latino and "legit all black" kids with autism?  How did that happen to them?   Oh... and when you get pulled over by a black cop and you happen to be white, using the whole "he hates white people" really comes off as ignorant when the screen saver in his patrol unit includes the photo of his white wife and bi-racial children. But you didn't ever consider that, did you?   And when you take your ass up to the high school where my husband has arrested your black child and before you've ever laid eyes on my husband have spouted off with your loud mouth to school administration that the "pig" is picking on another young black male....you might want to actually SEE the school resource officer before stating such ignorance.... I know, easy mistake to make in a yuppy town with only four black cops on the payroll, but turns out not everything is about your kid being black, sometimes it's just about his illegal drug use and theft.

Yes..... I KNOW RACISM.  I know it well.  As a mother to a child who no one would identify as "mixed" without seeing me with him, I too know about the fears of my child being profiled by the police.  I have no doubt that if my child were a teenager, wearing a hoodie, walking the sidewalk, with a group of black teens, in our yuppy suburb, chances are someone would wonder what the hell those boys were up to.  And yes... I have no doubt whatsoever that it would only take one jackass whitey to call in the police saying a "gang" of blacks were doing all kinds of "things" out in the "streets".  That's a very real possibility for my son and I have genuine concerns about it.   HOWEVER..... (there's the but)  here's what I don't understand....

How in the world are those members of the black community who are perpetrating violence and mayhem against innocents and law enforcement in general helping??  How can anyone justify chanting death threats to the officer when they themselves are in an upheaval over the death of another young black man? How can anyone jump to the conclusion that this officer just decided to take out a man in the middle of the street, in front of multiple witnesses, in broad daylight, for absolutely no reason whatsoever.  How can anyone assume he has absolutely no humanity whatsoever?  How can anyone NOT even remotely ponder that he may have feared for his own life?  Not saying shooting M. Brown was justified, not saying there weren't other options....because we do not know yet.... but how can we justify the assumption that this officer after a life with no police record, while working in law enforcement, while having a known history of being a well liked, fair, just and honorable officer, just decided that day was the day to become a cold, calculated murderer??

I
t is those same people who are horrified that M. Brown was gunned down for simply being black, walking down the street.  We are to ignore it because he has no lengthy criminal history. We are to ignore the strong armed robbery committed just moments before his death. We are to ignore everything but his graduation photo and those with his family...... but can ANY SINGLE one of those wishing this officer dead say they would ignore the officer having multiple complaints of officer brutality?  Would they ignore if he had been placed on administrative leave in the past for an altercation with a black male....or even a white male for that matter.... after all, if we're all honest wouldn't we say without a doubt if this officer had beaten the shit out of others in the past that there would be signs and chants "HOW MANY??  WHEN IS ENOUGH??"   If we all own our own truth, we know better.  Should this officer had any past infractions in law enforcement those with hatred for him would be using it for all they could....... just as so many are using M. Brown's history as proof of his character.   It is human nature..... and so is denial of same.

I honestly believe there are a vast amount of members of all races, who are genuinely concerned with true justice for M. Brown.  They want the truth.  The whole truth.  And I truly believe once the facts are all known, that those sensible members of the melting pots of America will accept what is revealed and the justice which will be served.  If this officer was unjust in the shooting, I believe those with sense and sensibility will wholeheartedly agree he should be served justice accordingly. I also believe that there is a pocket of America who is not interested in any truth, regardless of what shall be, but simply their own agenda. 

To those who refuse to acknowledge truth, they will never acknowledge the facts which are the
latest full year FBI Statistic compilation.  2,648 black Americans were murdered in the 2012 calendar year and of the 2,648 black murder victims, 2,412 were murdered by a member of their OWN RACE.   That leaves 193 murders of the 2,684 being carried out by a white person.  Additionally, in 2012, almost 500 more whites were killed than blacks.  Somehow, despite the facts, they will only see that white pigs are out to murder every black boy they see.... and no change can ever come from that.

Those who are promoting and inciting violence upon their fellow man, law enforcement in general, their communities and specifically chanting for the death of the officer, have done nothing but discredit themselves.  There is no worth in savagery. There is no justifying the destruction and mayhem.  Regardless of your plight, it will not work.

At the end of the day I can only speak my own truth.  I am a white woman, married to a black officer and today I fear for his safety from the black community, more so than from the skinheads and sovereign citizens who preach their hatred for not only blacks, but also the police.   My husband is an eighteen year veteran patrol officer.  He is a suicide prevention officer, a hostage negotiator, a crisis intervention officer, he leaves the streets nine months a year to work in the high schools. He makes it his mission to mentor young black men on the importance of making their own honest way in life, a life in which many cases is faced with racism.  He tells them his story of growing up in the same hood they did, with the same circumstances.  He tells them his truth of being one of only four black officers on a force of over a hundred...as in, it's not necessarily going to get easy for you.  He also teaches them that despite being a black man in today's society, there is no excuse for taking the wrong path. YOU and YOU alone are accountable for your actions.  You can only use your neighborhood as an excuse for so long. At some point you must own yourself.  And he teaches another truth..... racism will always be a part of your life.  As a black man you most likely will always be looked upon by many as less.  You may very well be profiled.  You may very well be judged by the color of your skin, but there is no one more powerful than YOU ALONE to change that and you and you alone dictate how much power you allow racism over your life.

Despite being an officer who has done nothing but honor his badge and dedicated his life to truly desiring to make a difference to his community, he is still judged..... I'm not sure which upsets me more?  That he is judged for being black or that he is judged and convicted simply because of the brass on his chest. 
Perhaps I'm just tired of him being judged at all, as for police officers being judged goes way past the color of their skin. There is no other occupation which is systematically grouped and judged as a whole.  We never look to hold only those who are corrupt accountable....it's always "ALL" cops. My husband isn't ALL cops.  No officer is ALL cops.  And very few officers and families of officers have any sympathy for a bad cop.  There's not a corrupt cop out there that I can trust to take a bullet for my husband... and there's no doubt my husband would take a bullet for any of his brothers or sisters in blue.... as well as any stranger.  To anyone who tries to lessen my husband's character simply because of the badge he wears, your input is worthless.  I know very well who that man is, and he doesn't deserve to be gunned down simply for "signing" up to be hated.  "The only good cop is a dead cop".... that speaks volumes about our society.  If my husband encounters those willing to slaughter him in order to avoid arrest or simply because of their hatred, I pray to God he doesn't reach for a taser, or aim for a leg.  He's my world, and my children's world and if you expect me to hope "slowing down" a threat to his life is enough, then you've never spent a day in our shoes.

Despite the racism my husband encounters from his own race, and others, he refuses to compromise his character. He lives life with dignity in the face of adversity.  He refuses to stoop the the level of those who judge him.  If he encounters unfairness, he handles himself with dignity and abides by the laws he did not make, but agrees to follow as an American citizen.  If he is wronged, he goes about righting it legally, ethically, and morally..... he stands by his own truth and refuses to engage in anything which could reduce his character.  Despite the racism I encounter I choose to do the same and I choose to raise my young black son in the same manner.  Do I fear for him.... in some senses, yes. I do.  But I also know that the foundation I lay for him will help him remember to stand upon his own character, regardless of the lack of character of others.


In the past week I have seen such a growing misplaced hatred which is pointless with no hope for a change effecting outcome.  It is truly sad that this is the world we are leaving for our children.   There's not a single one of us who can honestly say we can't do better..... but there are so many who are completely unwilling to stop themselves and just do better.   Own your truth....act accordingly.  "Be the change you want to see in the world"..... it's not just a cliche quote we all read on the internet.  It holds worth.

Melissa Littles,
Founder, The Police Wife Life

14 Comments

Ferguson Riots as seen from a different point of view.

8/6/2014

3 Comments

 
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My perspective on the Ferguson riots.
(This post was created before the release of the name of the officer involved and prior to the release of the video surveillance footage being released)

I’ve sat in silence, watching, listening; taking it all in. I’ve contemplated whether to speak on it or not. A news conference today sealed the deal.

Let’s start with the most pertinent fact of all….. Not one of us have all the facts at this point. Not the police. Not the family of the deceased. Not a single citizen - and certainly not anyone in Washington DC. There is absolutely no disputing that only two people are knowledgeable enough to form a concrete conclusion at this point regarding the circumstances which led up to the discharge of the officer’s weapon. One is the officer. One is the deceased.

The community is crying out for justice based solely on the “facts” that a white officer (whose identity has not been released) shot and killed an “unarmed black teen”. My first thought was - I sure hope he’s actually a white cop because if he turns out to be a light skinned Latino or Jewish or a mixed blend of Asian and Irish, this white vs. black rhetoric will sure need some tweaking. But I’m sure Al is all over the variables at this point. Secondly…. this was no “teen”. How many have EVER referred to our “teen soldiers”? They are very often times actually in their teenage years when sent abroad and we are sure to address them as “Young men”, “Brave men and women of the armed forces”, however…. put a black man of the same young age in a predicament which turns bad and he is suddenly a “teen”, “another young black youth gunned down”. He would never be addressed in that manner should he have been returning from Afghanistan in a flag draped coffin. Sadly, he most likely would have never made the news at all coming home as a young black man who gave his life to his country, as it’s more newsworthy in America to sensationalize a story about an “unarmed black teen” just as it is more newsworthy to sensationalize the actions of officers in a manner which convicts them before the facts are known.

I’m not going to address whether or not I believe the officer was justified or not, nor am I going to address whether or not I believe the actions of the deceased led to his death. I won’t because I can’t. I do not have all the facts and without them, I’m simply a hypocrite playing into idiocy and resulting mayhem. What I will address are my thoughts on what has resulted after the fact.

A police officer fired his weapon which resulted in loss of life. Much of those who are painting this officer as a murderer have clearly not considered some very basic and simple facts:

NO officer wishes to take a life. If you choose to dismiss that fact based on your belief that officers are blood thirsty ego maniacs on a trigger trip, slow your roll a moment and remember that an officer who discharges his weapon automatically puts him/herself in the worst position possible for their career. Every officer is accountable for every bullet of their career. Every bullet has the potential to end their career, devastate their livelihood, destroy their marriage, haunt their dreams and strip them of the only thing they can identify with in terms of making a living, which is being an officer. There are very few officers who can see themselves installing cable or working on cars or building furniture after the badge, much less see themselves in prison.

Officers are accustomed to being scrutinized on a micromanaged, microscopic level at all times. An officer’s life is played out on a live reel. Anywhere they go they are being watched. Everything they do is recorded. Everyone has a camera phone, most officers have body mic’s and dash cams. If you think that’s what officers deserve and need to help keep them in check, you might want to consider that the majority of officers hope and pray their actions are caught on some kind of recording, because if not, they are at the mercy of a public who in large part would take joy in their demise. How quickly the public assumes officers act annoyed at cameras in their faces as it must be a revelation of the truth! When in reality most officers are annoyed for the same reason the public is….. how would any of us react if a stranger approached us shoving cameras in our face as we go about our jobs? And if you are in a position in which every 53 hours one of your co-workers DIES doing their job, would you be a little more suspicious of a stranger approaching you? Think it through.

We don’t know yet what was caught on tape or film or body mic or dash cam due to the position of those involved at the time, however, we have witnesses! They happen to be friends with the deceased and according to much of those in support of the deceased, we should automatically take their account as valid and without distortion. A white cop murdered an unarmed black teen who had his hands in the air, surrendering. However, we shouldn’t even consider that the officer might have not chosen to take a life lightly. We are to assume a life meant nothing to him. We are to assume he had no second thoughts as to murdering another human. We are to assume he had no thoughts whatsoever about his career, his family, his livelihood, his future, his retirement, his potential of spending the rest of his life in prison, his morals, his religion, his own humanity….nor are we to think he might have thought twice as he was standing in front of witnesses. Not having all the facts prevent us from making concrete conclusions on any of it at this point. One thing we know for sure…. 99.9% of us know nothing more about the deceased than we do about the officer, yet in 99.9% of cases, we have all formed an opinion, and none of us are fully informed.

One fact that cannot be disputed is the pure idiocy of those behaving in a way which is destructive to innocents. Looting, destruction and acts of mayhem against a community and local businesses as a way to make a statement does nothing more than solidify the opinions of those looking in.

I’ve heard over and over directly from mouths being interviewed “It’s a black thing”…. No. no it’s not. It’s an ignorant thing amongst those who choose to label their own race as victims while they themselves commit illegal acts. There is no making it right. It’s a black thing? Where’s Bill Cosby? Where’s the black officers from that community? There’s three black officers on the payroll…. Where’s their new stolen tv? Oh, but wait… how do you address the black officers? How do you handle them in the black community? Are they exempt? Or are they just as corrupt as the white cops? Are we just going to sweep them under the rug because it doesn’t fit an agenda of a black community vs. white police force? I suppose we’ll call them sellouts since it works against this particular agenda? Are those rioting (not protesting, rioting) hurling Molotov cocktails at the police AFTER asking the black cops to get out of the way? Or is it ALL cops that deserve to be firebombed? That’s not racist in itself is it? Grouping an entire profession into one negative worthless category based on the actions of a few? But isn’t that what the black community is so upset about? Being grouped into one category based on the actions of a few? Or should we not even consider the actions of the few because after all, aren’t they acting as a result of being oppressed and prejudiced against for so long?? That excuses the actions of all, right? We’re tired of being profiled and prejudged and maligned so we’re going to act a straight up fool and ruin the businesses of hard working individuals who have nothing to do with our plight. THAT will give us the credit for our character that we are OWED. That, my friends, is not a black thing…. that’s a stupid thing.

There once was a boy who was born into a family he didn’t choose. He lived in a neighborhood he didn’t choose. He grew up in poverty he had no control over. He was surrounded by drugs and thieves and those who did what they felt they had to do to get by in a world which seemed to judge them all for absolutely no valid reason. His friends said they had no choice in making a living the way they did. His family struggled to find decent pay in a world which preferred another type of candidate. The police were often around his world, because his world was infested with the crime of those who professed to be forced into illegal activity because the white man was keeping them down. He grew up seeing racism, bias behavior, and anger, frustration and the wearing down of good people because of what they faced. He made a choice. He chose to live by the rules, even those that didn’t seem fair. He stayed in school despite the lure of easy money and the promise of a “family” that would never turn on him. He never assumed he was OWED a thing in this life other than the same opportunity that is given to others. He became a police officer. He has been an officer for almost 18 years. He’s a cop for the right reasons, and he happens to be black. He’s also my husband. And I happen to be white. My children happen to be black and they are being raised and taught by their black father that nothing in life is free, there are no handouts, your work ethic and morals dictate your future and you and you alone are accountable for your own actions. Accountability…..where oh where art thou?

There are despicable humans in this world. They come in all colors. There are corrupt, despicable police officers out there as well. There are officers who have profiled and wronged and abused and yes, murdered innocents. There is no excuse for justifying harm to any other officer based on the actions of the corrupt. If you claim you are sick of racism but you also blame “ALL” cops, you are a racist hypocrite. If you claim a black man was murdered by a white cop but you support harming officers not related to the incident in any way, you are a hypocrite. If you support police and believe that it is impossible that they make horrible decisions or bad mistakes or tragic misjudgments, or even callus, calculated injustices, you are naive. When rational common sense is replaced with collective bandwagons, all is lost.

People are sick of a militarized police nation but no one wants to accept what is bringing it on. How many gang bangers are fighting back with 22’s since the weapon of choice on the street became an assault rifle? But the police should use tasers and less lethal options and “aim at a leg” when they have absolutely no idea what is aimed at them 90% of the time. You want an officer to aim at a leg in a struggle when someone is trying to take possession of his weapon? Role reverse, then speak. Center Mass allows an officer and a soldier to see tomorrow. When a weapon is finally discharged, it is because other options are moot. Enough said.

Officers are aggressive and paranoid. YA THINK?! They are DYING while WORKING every FIFTY THREE HOURS. They are being ambushed simply sitting in their cars. They are being sought out, targeted and slaughtered by those they have never had a single dealing with. They are being shot at INSIDE their own precincts. Their home addresses and wives and babies are being exposed by criminals. They are being killed in their own driveways while off duty. “People are sick of corrupt police and taking action” Guess what….. GOOD COPS ARE SICK OF SEEING THEIR BROTHERS AND SISTERS SLAUGHTERED and are on high alert. It’s perfectly alright for the black community to start a hashtag campaign about what pic would be chosen “If they gunned me down” but it’s not acceptable to think an officer who sees one of his own die every other day might be a little on edge?? Oh, that’s right….they signed up for that, that eliminates their right to have intent to make it home alive. No one being profiled wants to take accountability for doing the very thing they are speaking against. Profiling all police based on the actions of some is prejudice.

A white plastic surgeon who was corrupt as shit killed a black woman. He killed many, actually. He was greedy. He was performing cheap surgery on innocent victims with no regard for their lives. Many died or were disfigured and left permanently injured. Where’s Al? Where’s the riots? Where’s the demand for justice against white plastic surgeons!?!? How absurd.

Where’s the outrage for the black officers who were ambushed and murdered by white felons?? Where’s Al? Better yet… where’s the outrage for the white officers ambushed and murdered by black felons, or white felons for that matter? Why aren’t the police wives and police unions of America marching and protesting and rioting in the ghetto and the white meth head trailer parks where the felons lived?! How absurd.

I’ve done over 100 tributes to fallen officers, many of them black, many of them murdered by white men, AND I’m married to a black cop…….where’s my free tv? Where’s Al? How absurd.

If we as a people TRULY want change the first thing we have to get back is accountability. Accountability for our own actions, without blame of others. OWNERSHIP of self-actions. Regardless of our race, regardless of our profession.

The media and every single person feeding off the absurd, half fact, ill informed, premature lack of factual basis to form any conclusion at this point are contributing to racism, violence and sweeping ignorance in this country. Racism is alive and real and I can promise you as a white woman married to a black man with a mixed special needs child I have seen racism on so many level it’s not even funny. I have experienced racism from black and white females. I have experienced racism because I am married to a police officer. I have experienced racism because my children are mixed. I have experienced racist ignorance as a mother of a special needs child……. And there is not ONE SINGLE PERSON ON EARTH that is responsible for ANYTHING in my life or how I live or what choices I make other than MYSELF.

I wholeheartedly feel compassion for the family of the deceased. No parent should ever have to bury their child. My prayers are with them. If the officer was in the wrong, I pray justice is served. If he was justified, I pray for humbleness and acceptance and peace. More than anything, I pray we all take a good hard look in the mirror and honestly ask ourselves how each and every contribution we make to this life lends worth. What we are fighting for loses all meaning when we do so without character.

As police families we should all hold ourselves accountable to an even higher standard. Each and every action as a police officer and as families of officers directly contributes to the positive or negative perception of law enforcement as a whole. We owe it to our own to live by the highest standards of integrity. We also owe it to the communities we are sworn to protect and serve. We can ALL DO BETTER. Regardless of the color of our skin or the occupation we hold – we should strive to make a positive contribution to humanity each and every day. We can all do better.

Prayers for peace and safety to all our officers who have been hurled into this mess, and to all the families who are praying them home.
~Mel
Melissa Littles, Founder
The Police Wife Life©


3 Comments

Thoughts on National Police Week - The Police Wife Life

5/11/2014

2 Comments

 
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 “If you knew then what you know now, would you do it all again?” It’s a question asked by many at certain times in life.  It is a question asked of me, by many, about life as a wife of a law enforcement officer. Whether it is asked of those who are newly married into this life, or those considering it, or just those who ask out of simple curiosity, nonetheless, my answer never waivers.  However, in answering “yes”, one must know the reason why, and that reason goes far beyond what one might initially consider.

His heart is what drew me in, all those years ago.  I saw a man determined to make a difference, I saw a man, willing to lend a hand or an ear to a friend in need.  I saw someone dedicated to his family, someone who consistently put others above himself.  I saw a man with humility and dignity. I saw compassion and integrity.  And if I had known then what I know now, I think I would have had a whole other level of respect for him back then.  It doesn’t work that way though. For it is in the learning and living this life of law enforcement that those of us who love them come to understand just exactly what they endure, and it is then that as one who loves them you truly begin to understand what kind of men and women they must be to be able to keep their hearts from hardening, despite all the badge brings to their lives.

It is a life of constant “Catch 22’s” for those who are compelled to protect and serve.  The days have long since passed from a time when a Norman Rockwell painting of a Police Officer and a little boy at a soda fountain depicted the innocence of youth and the general consensus that in times of need, it is the peacekeepers who are there as the everyday heroes. 

As National Police Week is once again upon us, another year and so many more names of the fallen etched on that wall, and it is clear the tides have turned.  Back in those Norman Rockwell days we were aware that an Officer was willing to lay down his life in the line of duty. As we look at that wall today we know, the peacekeepers are in the midst of a war on American soil wherein more times than not, they themselves are the target, and to live that way, with a bulls eye on your back from those very people you are sworn to protect, well that is something which makes you fully aware of what those who protect and serve are dealing with.

As the spouse of a law enforcement officer, it is the knowledge of the truth which is my painful motivator.  It is in knowing the judgment and animosity which is aimed at the love of my life, the father of my children, which compels me to be the rock which holds his foundation in place. 

It is often said by those of us who love them, If you only knew what I know, if you could only see what I see, if you could only open your heart long enough to see past the brass on his chest, to the gold on his finger, and the love in his heart.  Then, you might consider the man more than the badge.

What I know now about this man, and so many men and women like him is that badge does not represent a job, it represents a life.  The badge may come off his chest at the end of his shift, however, he is still an officer, for there is no off switch.

What I know now is that an eight hour shift will become a ten hour shift because of a drunk driver crossing my husband’s path at seven hours and fifty three minutes into his eight hour shift. What I know now is that although it is against the law to drive drunk and endanger others, my husband must honor the rights of that drunk as it is my husband who is being filmed by his own dash cam and who will be called into court later and it is my husband who will have to defend his actions in arresting a citizen who was endangering the lives of others. What I know now is a drunk comes with two hours of paperwork which must be done before my husband can come home to me. What I know now is that twelve hours later when he finally makes it home his main concern will be showering the drunk off of him before he collapses out of exhaustion. What I now know is unlike what most who drink and drive think, the last thing my husband wanted was to cross paths with a drunk less than ten minutes before he could have come home to a hot meal, the game and his family. 

What I know now is that dead bodies have a stench which an officer can smell in his dreams. What I know now is charred bodies have their own distinctive smell as well.  What I know now is that in the winter time blood rises up as steam when it spills from a body onto the frozen street.  What I know now is that flesh and brain matter and body parts can get stuck in the tread of an officer’s boots.  What I know now is that a unit, in a driveway, with all four doors open, is not a sign of an irresponsible officer leaving his unit wide open, by the sure sign of an officer airing out a unit which he can’t get the smell of feces or vomit out of, despite his attempts to clean it. 

What I know now is how much thirty three pounds weighs, as I lift his duty belt and his vest off the bed, after he has removed it from his waist after carrying it for twelve hours, after leaning on it, trying to sit in it, having to run in it, having to wrestle in it. 

What I know now is that everyone has had two drinks, no one owns their own pants, everyone is driving their cousin’s car and no one knows anyone else’s real name.

What I know now is that although duty calls them to run towards danger, their human instinct tells them to run away, yet they make the conscious decision to run forward anyway.  What I know now is they are fully aware that each and every time they run towards danger, that they may never return to their family again.

What I know now is that they are compelled to help those in need, but by offering that help there comes a price.  What I know now is that a child who is found duct taped in a closet will return in an officer’s dreams for years.  What I know now is that a teenager whose twisted body, entwined with the metal of a wreckage will make them think of their own teenager, and that sight will make them sick at their stomach, but they will control their human instinct in order to perform their duty. 

What I know now is that most elderly people die on the toilet and are not found for days until an officer is called out on a welfare check.  What I know now is that hoarders not only bury themselves in their own human waste, but they save dead animals as well.

What I know now is that taking a child from his own parents, even when those parents have beaten and bruised that child is extremely painful, and an officer will still be viewed as the bad man who took a child from the only world they have ever known.  What I know now is how horrible an officer feels when he must leave that child in the care of the state, which has no room for that child either.

What I know now is that although citizens have every right to taunt my husband by filming him and egging him on and calling him a PIG and wishing him dead, regardless of ever meeting him or knowing him, or seeing the picture of him rocking his baby, there is no point in telling them otherwise.  They live in America, and they have rights.  The right to show compassion or understand what I know, is not on their agenda.

What I know now is that an officer can survive four tours of duty in Iraq, be hailed a hero, only to return to America, put on a badge, and instantly become the enemy.  What I know now is that an officer will be disrespected by those very men and women he served with overseas.  They will say “at least you get to come home”….. I will say “I hope to God he lives through what America has lined up for him”.  What I know now is they will fly a flag for him when he is deployed, but they will say they pay his salary when he wears a badge at home.

What I know now is how hard it is to see my husband stand in honor of one who is lost. What I know now is what “Blue Family” means when it comes to an officer’s funeral. What I know now is exactly what the term “gut wrenching yet beautiful” means.

What I know now is why so many officers eat their own guns.

What I know now is what a bad day looks like on the face and body of my husband. What I know now is the toll the badge has taken on his life.  I know how to wake him from the monsters which fill his sleep.  I know why he constantly pays attention to his surroundings. I know why he has taught me to shoot a gun. I know why he doesn’t let our kids ride the school bus.  I know why he never drives home the same way twice.  I know why he stands up to eat when he makes it home for lunch.  I know why some nights he is silent.  I know why he takes his boots off before he brings his last call through the door to our home.  I know why he doesn’t cry anymore.  I know why his smiles are distracted.  I know why he stares at me sometimes.  I know why he stands alone in the hall, looking into our children’s rooms at night.

What I know now is how to fix a leaky sink, change my own oil, haul three kids to the doctor alone, explain to family why we can’t make it again.  What I know now is that eight hours equal twelve, lunch time is after dark, breakfast is at lunch time and Monday is usually on Wednesday.  I know now how to reheat meals up to three times without ruining them.  I know how to load three kids in a car and get dinner to the back of the parking lot beside the rail road tracks in ten minutes flat.  I know how to get blood out of anything.  I know how to wrap broken fingers and disinfect bloody knuckles. I know when an eye is swollen enough to have it looked at.  I know it’s a good thing when my husband’s voice is on the other end of the phone saying he’s hurt, because he can still speak and make a call.  I know the panic will overcome me when I see a unit rolling up to my house when my husband isn’t home, but I know I am prepared for it.

What I know now that I didn’t know then is nothing is what I expected it to be.  I expected this life to be hard on me, what I never anticipated is how hard it is on him.  What I know now is a whole other level of respect for the duty that badge holds.  What I know now is our truth….. that this man is the same man who stole my heart.  Over 16 years behind the badge and his character hasn’t wavered.  However, the character of America has. What I know now is that I still love him for who he is, but I love him so much more to make up for all who hate him.  And yes,  I would do it all again because this is who we are.  My husband is a law enforcement officer, and I would gladly sign up to be his wife all over again.

Melissa Littles
Founder, The Police Wife Life ©TPWL





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Kevlar - De-funking the Stank!

5/5/2014

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Oh the joys of summer.  The long shifts, the blazing heat, and what.....what's that smell?  There it is... the dreaded, funk of summer.  It is rank, it is jank.... it is the most foul, funkified, permeating odor of all odors...it is KEVLAR STANK.My LEO works lake patrol in the summer.  Five glorious days on, beginning at 1300, the heat of the day, with the smells of drunks doused in murky brown lake water, vomit abounds, there are those "recreational" smells on occasion, together with boat exhaust, oil, gas, grills, illegal burning, wet dog, dirty sand, garbage.... ahhh yes, then mix those smells with a sweating, soaking wet man wearing dark blue and Kevlar and it's not a stretch to say the neighborhood dogs smell him coming home blocks from here. 

We've tried it all. The professional product from Galls. Other professional products as well, and for everyday freshening, those work fine, but we are dealing with a whole other level of stank here. 

After much experimenting I came up with this concoction and for us, it works.  It won't hurt the vest and it removes all 3am questioning about the zombie road kill which came back to life long enough to take up residence in your master closet. So, if you've tried it all and still have stank... feel free to try this de-funking solution.

3 Cups VERY HOT water

1 Cup Vinegar (plain, household vinegar)

Febreze Sport (get several, you'll need it)

Arm and Hammer Baking Soda (In the boxes made specifically for the freezer)

Big plastic tub/bin with lid  (large enough to store the vest inside easily)

Fan(s)

Remove the outer liner from the vest (the carrier)

Remove the strike plates (take this time to check your expiration date, write it down somewhere safe before it washes off your vest.  A vest expires 5 years from the issue date).

Mix the vinegar and the hot water in a bowl.

Soak the carrier in the mixture for about 10 minutes.

Take a sponge soaked in the solution and wipe down the inner (inside and out), especially the arm holes. Let sit for about 10 minutes.

Rinse the carrier in cool clean water for about 5-10 minutes. 

Take a clean sponge and wipe down the inner with cool, clean water, several times.

Pour enough Febreze Sport into a bowl to soak the carrier in (that's right, use it like you mean it, lid off, dump it). Soak the carrier in Febreze Sport for at least 10 minutes. 

Spray the inner with Febreze, inside and out.

Rinse the carrier with clean water. 

Wipe down the inner with clean water (all this clean water is to prevent any deterioration of the vest or liner).

Hang each on a plastic hanger (NO WIRE HANGERS.....EVERRRRR!)  (If you're too young, you won't get that Mommy Dearest reference).

I hang his in the shower on the rod. 

Put a big ol' box fan on those puppies and let them air dry for at least 4-8 hours (obviously we're doing this on an off day... because who's home for 8 hours, right?)

When completely dry (COMPLETELY)  Place both carrier and inner inside a plastic tub with 3-4 boxes of Arm and Hammer Baking soda and close the lid.  Store until next shift.

For every day refreshing, we use Febreze Sport on the carrier.

I do recommend the professional cleaners you can find at Galls, etc.. they are safe and effective. http://www.galls.com/style.html?assort=general_catalog&

FOR THE UNDER ARM ROAD RASH - GOLD BOND'S ANTI CHAFFING STICK works wonders

FOR WHEN IT'S TOO LATE AND YOU ALREADY HAVE THE RASH - AQUAFOR is great!

NEVER DRY A VEST IN THE SUN - it will deteriorate faster

NEVER CLEAN A VEST WITH THE STRIKE PLATES IN.... water + metal = no bueno.

Here's to a rash free, stank-less, funky free, SAFE summer!! WEAR YOUR VEST!~Mel   ©TPWL

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The Reality of Mortality - The Police Wife Life

2/5/2014

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It was just a simple call, a quick reassurance, a courtesy really.  One of those calls to nonchalantly inform you of the circumstances before you happen to hear it from another source.  So why then; why and how could a call of such simplicity invoke such emotion? Officer involved shootings happen daily across the country, it’s not as if the news of such should cause a dramatic amount of emotion… especially since there were no injured officers and the suspect was taken into custody….via stretcher.  Just another day in the life of law enforcement; just another day an officer's wife gets the good call, the call you hope for, the call which affirms your LEO is safe, uninjured, and coming home.  And yet, for whatever reason, that call would leave her mind reeling, it would leave her studying his body language, it would leave her dismissing thoughts which were not allowed. It would leave her with proof that once again, when you think you have it under control, it is only truly under control moment by moment.

She sat in her chair, the chair she worked in, the chair with a view of the laundry room door to the garage and a second view to the pretty clock which was totally unnecessary due to her phone and computer, but somehow softened the reality of her time away from him with its pretty curves and scrolled ironwork.  She struggled to focus; she struggled to shake the feelings of being overly dramatic from her mind. She found herself asking why? Why was she reacting like this? Why was she so discombobulated over something which was so much the norm for her life?  And she realized it was really a matter of timing. It never failed, it seemed at least. The moment she allowed herself to drop some of the protective coating which encased her always seemed to be the moment which proved to her that vulnerability was not an emotional state she could afford herself. 

The memories of that summer night came rushing back to her. Thoughts of him, outnumbered, darkness preventing his vision of the predator who were armed and intoxicated, a group with no clear thought, nor regard, nor respect…..nothing to lose, yet he came home. 

The memories of that familiar nonchalant call came rushing back to her, stifling heat of a raging summer, the vision of him wrestling a robbery suspect onto the scorching pavement, his gun drawn, suspect resisting and his words to her afterward…..”Sesame Chicken or Sweet and Sour Pork?”

The thoughts she had memorized came back to her……timing, she thought.  Just earlier that very day she was awakened by his warm body against hers, completely wrapping her within his much larger frame, enveloping her in a cocoon of safety only he could provide her.  The memories of that very morning came back to her, listening to his words as she studied him, memorizing the scar on his forehead, thankful once again the cause didn’t claim him, studying the scars she knew so well which marked his body with memories which ended in calls of reassurance…..the good calls….the calls which brought him home to her.  Just hours later, on a typical day she would receive yet another good call, a call of reassurance, a call which would indicate he would come home to her…..so why? Why could she not shake the one thing she refused to allow in their life?  Why, could she not keep herself from thinking analytical thoughts and implicating his life with statistics?

She never allowed him to factor into her numbers. He was off limits to her. She spent her life studying the loss, researching the cause, gaining knowledge of the facts.  She could see the map of a country with a thin blue line running through it in her mind at all times, she could visualize holes in the line and those stepping in closer to fill the gaps. She could close her eyes at any moment and state by state see the numbers of injuries, deaths, close calls…..and good calls. She lived it, breathed it, it stripped her of the good dreams many months ago……it claimed her ability to sleep completely. In a way, it consumed her, and yet she knew, if she were to maintain her commitment to it, it must consume her.  She was crazy in the eyes of most, she was ignorant and misinformed and guilty of transferring her love of one to the commitment to the others. She would surely wake up one day and realize the fool she was.  And for her passion she realized was so ridiculed by most, she excluded him.  It was her way of protecting him from the statistics. She removed him purposely from all thoughts which may concern her about his safety. She allowed the reputation of his department to interrupt her knowledge of the truth she had known all along…..that it wasn’t if something would eventually happen, but when….and to which one of them. Statistically speaking, she knew they were due. Long overdue, actually; but that thought, was not allowed.

She sat in her chair, headphones in place to drown the thoughts which would not elude her tonight. She stared into her glass of wine not willing to allow its contents to soothe her, for as much as she wanted to dismiss the thoughts which were spinning in her head like a whirlwind, she knew she must face them, accept them; swallow them for the truth they held.  She knew, she must entertain the thought of his mortality in order to be able to confront the fear today had invoked, and in turn, to allow it to return to its rightful place in the back of her mind.

She had lived her life with him constantly rebuking the monster within her which told her nothing good ever lasts for her. She had continually fought her fear of losing the happiness which had eluded her for years until she allowed herself to accept the love he freely offered her.  She forced herself to quash the resentment she felt for him for telling her, almost proudly, that if this life were to claim him early, it was in duty he wished to be claimed. She was almost sickened at the thought of him proudly leaving her, although she knew it was purely selfishness which allowed her to think that way. She knew what he meant, she just refused to accept it. To accept it was to entertain it. To entertain it, to her, was to acknowledge the possibility of it.  To entertain the possibility of it, was to picture herself the widow of a hero.

So perhaps today it all boiled down to one thing. In the early morning hours she let her guard down, she allowed herself that closeness she couldn’t bear to lose. She allowed him to hear her soften. She allowed those emotions which always ended in pain for her. She trusted herself to him knowing the consequences, knowing the risks.  She allowed herself to accept that he was worth every ounce of what she had to give, regardless of what it may eventually cost her. And she allowed her heart the opportunity to be broken out of the sake of fully loving him. 

Hours later……..she sat in her chair, the chair with the view of the garage door and the useless clock, and she waited, she waited for the sound of Velcro and keepers and she waited for that warm body pressed up against her reassuring her that this life, this love, this constant unknown, was worth the risk of a broken heart.  She waited as she always did, but perhaps today, a little more aware, a little more alive, a little more in tune with her appreciation for each moment of the unknown.

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END OF WATCH PACKET - The Police Wife Life

1/27/2014

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Form of EOW Packet to be used for anyone who needs it.
It is imperative that every police family has their affairs in order.  Should the unthinkable happen the last thing a spouse or the family needs is confusion and unanswered questions during the most impossible of circumstances. Having accounts, policies, passwords, wills and trusts and DNR's in place is crucial.  Feel free to use the attached forms and alter to your own needs. This doc is in Word Format

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    Melissa Littles is a published author, blogger and legislative advocate for Law Enforcement Officers and their families, as well as an advocate for Autism.  To learn more, see our "About" section.

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