Lindsay

ALLIE POOH BEAR

BIG BROTHER RYAN

A Police Wife is a woman who is married to a man who is "married" to his job, his partner, and his badge. A Police Wife can usually be found cooking breakfast at midnight, picking up his uniform at the cleaners, and spending nights alone.

A Police Wife must be a good listener, not questioning him. She must be understanding when he goes out for a beer with his buddies, doesn't feel like taking her to the movies, or has an exam to study for.

A Police Wife must live with shift work, lonely holidays, bad jokes, ulcers and alcohol, bulletproof vests, and fixed incomes. She is used to words like rape, robbery, assault, and child abuse. She is familiar with night school, stakeouts, overtime and being on her own.

Most women are not born or raised to be a Police Wife; it is something that they have chosen to do. Some can and others cannot. She will spend each day learning, listening to, and loving a man that few people respect and most others hate.

A Police Wife makes beds, breakfasts, and love to a man who spends more time with junkies, hookers, informants, pimps, and partners than he does her. She attends dinners, meetings, and sometimes funerals.

A Police Wife watches as the man she loves grows old before his time, watches him become cold and unfeeling, but she will remain his friend, wife and lover. She will always be these things to him, but she also knows he is first, A Police Officer.

When a wife kisses him as he leaves for work, she will make a slient wish that he will return to her. And everytime there is a knock at the door, she will pray it is not the Chief of Police and her husbands partner coming to say kind things about her husband, how brave he was, how dedicated he was.

Being a Police Wife means lots of trust, love, and worry, but when he says, "I love you," it makes it all worthwhile.

Dear Lord, it's such a hectic day,
With little time to stop and pray,
For life's been anything but calm,
Since you called on me to be a mom.
Running errands, matching socks,
Building dreams with building blocks.
Cooking, cleaning, and finding shoes,
And other stuff that children lose.

Fitting lids on bottled bugs,
Wiping tears and giving hugs.
A stack of last week's mail to read,
So where's the quiet time I need?
Yet when I steal a minute Lord,
Just at the sink or ironing board,
To ask the blessings of your grace,
I see them in my small one's face,
That you have blessed me all the while,
As I stop to kiss that precious smile.

Reading and playing with Ryan and Allie!