My new do

I got my hair cut, quite short for me. It is a long layered bob style, and I love it. I haven't learned to fix it just right yet, but it is loaded with potential. Mike doesn't like it at all. He can't even bring himself to say something like "If it makes you happy, then I'm happy." Nope. He just says "We'll have to agree to disagree on the length of your hair." The noteable word in that sentence is 'your'. Sigh....makes me feel so damn unpretty. I finally have the courage to try a shorter style, albeit a longer short style and this is his behavior. I know I'm a bigger girl. If I were a skinny mini, would it matter to him what length my hair was? I don't think it would. I feel he would have me be unhappy as long as I fit his dream hair girl. I am resentful his open betrayal of my feelings. As we talked about it, I felt a little part of me that loves him die away - shattered by his disdain.

Thank You

I would like to say heartfelt thank you to all veterans. I know it may drain you emotionally to recall all you've seen and heard. Please look around and see freedoms enjoyed by Americans. This is because of you and others like you. Our children are free to express themselves because of the bravery and sacrifices of our troops. Other cultures seek to take freedom from us by any means necessary. You and other brave ones have stood in the gap and said " Not today.". Thank each and every one of you.

Imprints

Sometimes, random thoughts from the 911 calls that I have handled will float into
my thoughts. A statement said, or even just one word will trigger a flashback. Some are pleasant, some are not.

I think there would be a market for some sort of anti-bacterial type cleanser, one that could be squirted into the right ear, allowed to seep into the brain and then pour out the left ear, taking with all these random images. Some of the images are so light that as they exited, they would just float way. Other images would most assuredly fall heavily to the ground, hopefully lightening me in the process.

I love what I do for a living, most days. I don't want to change professions, or anything rash. Just sometimes, the emotional toll it has taken feels little heavy. It helps to remember these things:

- The things we see/hear are not the normal.

- To know I can make a difference each and every day.

- I am part of front line protection for some mighty wonderful police officers and
fire fighters.

No, I don't want to do anything else. While venting about the bad memories, I realized that if those memories were erased, I would lose all the good memories of this profession as well.

- I have saw people rise above themselves and situations.

- I have co-workers that are close as siblings now.

- I have helped them and been helped by them.

- The genuine appreciation of a job well done.

Band-Aid please......

Does anyone have a Band-Aid? There is a gunshot wound that needs attending. I don't know how to fix some things. Also, how does one tell which things are worth fixing?

Down through the years, whenever I saw friends and/or family members stop communicating, I always thought that surely there could be a reasonable solution to ANY problem. There wasn't anything worth losing someone held dear.

What if those among the closest, have betrayed all held dear to such an extent that there cannot and will never be a compromise? One is only left with a devastating gunshot wound to their emotions. That is when communication grinds to a halt.

I think the wisest way to heal an emotional gunshot wound is by applying the Band-Aids to the outer edges of the wound. Thus the center stays open, and all infection can seep out slowly. It may take longer to heal, but it will leave one healthier in the end.

Children

With our big move upon us, I am so worried about the effect it will have on the boys. I want their childhood to be perfectly idyllic. Sometimes the need to provide that for them almost paralyzes me.

Am I worried over nothing? I simply do not know. I look around at some of my favorite people and all the storied childhoods that they have. These are some of the most amazing people in the world, and they sustained through the scrapes and bruises of childhood. Their childhood and mine are the substance of fodder for us when we gather. We laugh and poke at each other, knowing that at the end of the day - we all are in this, one for all and all for one.

So I will have to concede that my precious boys are made of resilient, sturdy stock. I have determined to move cautiously and with their best interest at heart. They will not break apart at each and every one of life's little disappointments, as nor will I. We, as a family, will temper our downs with ups. So one day, they too will have fodder to share setting around with their own group of rag-tag amazings.

weary.....let me rest

Extraordinary has blanched plain,
My soul has become strained.
Beauty is so fleeting,
Self-esteem takes a beating.
Slight of hand, shift of eye -
Whole universe hangs on a sigh.
I feel as if my soul is tied
To all which I am denied.