So we are moving into a month of Brett working nights. I wish I could say things have gotten easier, but not really. I don't think I have ever slept as little as I have in the past two weeks. Sleep deprivation and myself do not mix well. Last night I put the hamburgers in the sink and the other day I put the milk in the cabinet.
However I have made some baby steps to being more comfortable at home.
Last Thursday my cell phone died. Flat out died and wouldn't work. I had to go buy a new one. It was 7p.m. and it was dark. Usually my house is Fort Knox by 6 p.m. I braved the dark and went and bought a new phone. All my myself. In the dark. At night. Did I mention it was dark?
Then that Friday night I stayed in the living room until 11:30 p.m. Yay! That is a huge achievement for me! I cannot believe that I made that long.
Monday night it was raining and I kept the windows in the living room open until I couldn't stand the cold air any longer. Normally, I would have closed the windows and locked everything up.
So to toot my own horn I have made baby steps. And I am proud of myself. I know that some of you are probably thinking I am nuts, but this is who I am. I am attempting another baby step tonight: going to a friends house and returning later than normal. Wish me luck!
Friday, March 4, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Where the wild things are....
Y'all remember Max in the book? He had it all wrong. The wild things aren't nice and there is no wild rumpus. They are all in my back yard. At night. Only when Brett is working. It's true!
One of my biggest fears is staying alone. Brett and I both had day jobs so we were home together most of the time in the evenings. So his working at night has thrown me for a loop. Not only is it quiet, but now I have to contend with wild things.
Let me explain. I have an active imagination. Blame it on a childhood where my sister and I played outdoors all day and created all kinds of places and situations. I cannot not watch any movie that might remotely give me nightmares. I watched Paranormal Activity with Brett about a year ago. To this day I cannot have a body part hanging off the mattress. Those of you that have seen the movie know exactly what I'm talking about.
Here is my neurosis. I cannot stay in the living room past 9:30. My comfort level goes on high alert. I cannot sleep with the closet doors open nor can I open the kitchen door fully to let my dogs out at night. I turn every light on as I walk through the house. I won't get out of the bed to use the bathroom unless it is a dire emergency. But I can do all those things when Brett is home. I will even walk out on our deck to check on the dogs in the middle of night. So what's wrong with me? It's those wild things.
On Brett's second night of work I was still very anxious. That night about 3:30ish I heard the craziest noise outside of my bedroom window. It sounded like a very high strung puppy. The noise lasted for well over half an hour but did I get out of the bed to check it out. Nooooooo, I was fully convinced the wild things were on their way to get me. I envisioned big hairy monsters with ginormous teeth and awful breath. Oh, and they were chanting my name!
A few days later I am describing the noise to my dad and Brett. Brett is laughing. I haven't figure out if he was laughing because I was making a mountain out of a molehill or because I was making the sound for him in a room full of people. I shared my theory with these two men. If I cover myself up with the blankets, move to the middle of the bed and lay still the wild things won't find me. My dad shook his head and Brett laughed harder and said that's why I have a gun. I still go by that theory. I'm still here and the wild things haven't found me.
The wild things can have a wild rumpus in my backyard all they want. They better not bring it in my house.
One of my biggest fears is staying alone. Brett and I both had day jobs so we were home together most of the time in the evenings. So his working at night has thrown me for a loop. Not only is it quiet, but now I have to contend with wild things.
Let me explain. I have an active imagination. Blame it on a childhood where my sister and I played outdoors all day and created all kinds of places and situations. I cannot not watch any movie that might remotely give me nightmares. I watched Paranormal Activity with Brett about a year ago. To this day I cannot have a body part hanging off the mattress. Those of you that have seen the movie know exactly what I'm talking about.
Here is my neurosis. I cannot stay in the living room past 9:30. My comfort level goes on high alert. I cannot sleep with the closet doors open nor can I open the kitchen door fully to let my dogs out at night. I turn every light on as I walk through the house. I won't get out of the bed to use the bathroom unless it is a dire emergency. But I can do all those things when Brett is home. I will even walk out on our deck to check on the dogs in the middle of night. So what's wrong with me? It's those wild things.
On Brett's second night of work I was still very anxious. That night about 3:30ish I heard the craziest noise outside of my bedroom window. It sounded like a very high strung puppy. The noise lasted for well over half an hour but did I get out of the bed to check it out. Nooooooo, I was fully convinced the wild things were on their way to get me. I envisioned big hairy monsters with ginormous teeth and awful breath. Oh, and they were chanting my name!
A few days later I am describing the noise to my dad and Brett. Brett is laughing. I haven't figure out if he was laughing because I was making a mountain out of a molehill or because I was making the sound for him in a room full of people. I shared my theory with these two men. If I cover myself up with the blankets, move to the middle of the bed and lay still the wild things won't find me. My dad shook his head and Brett laughed harder and said that's why I have a gun. I still go by that theory. I'm still here and the wild things haven't found me.
The wild things can have a wild rumpus in my backyard all they want. They better not bring it in my house.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Where to begin....
A year ago my husband called to say he had spoken to the instructor of the Peace Officer Academy at Augusta Tech. So it began. As a couple we began the year long journey as Brett studied to become a peace officer. Let me give you some background. We were married eight years that spring and he had always been an electrician. A very safe job unless you count the occasional jolt of electricity.
He applied, got accepted by the state of Georgia, went through a grueling oral interview and made it in. This is July 2010. Fast forward four or so months and we are at his swearing in ceremony. He earns best attitude award and his the second academically in his class. As he raises his hand to be sworn in I cry. Oh I hold it in well considering there were probably 150 people there. I didn't want to boo hoo because it was plainly obvious that no one else was.
Fast forward two months later to February 8th and he is on his first official night of work. The night before I lost it emotionally and told him I wasn't ready. I cried so hard I literally could not blow my nose for all the mucus that had made a home there. Oh did I mention, I don't like being home alone at night. The joke at my house is the wild things come out at dark. Really they do. Crazy sounding birds and all kinds of animal sounds.
So here I am as he begins his third week of work. I had to find an outlet for my anxiety and boredom. This is all so new to me. I cannot get used to the fact my husband is a cop. Oh, he'll be good. Real good. He was born to do this and I cannot begrudge him that. It also helps he looks HOT in his uniform.
Join me in the journey of being the cop's wife. I'm sure it will be a blast. I am after all having a fabulous time with it. Note the heavy sarcasm.
He applied, got accepted by the state of Georgia, went through a grueling oral interview and made it in. This is July 2010. Fast forward four or so months and we are at his swearing in ceremony. He earns best attitude award and his the second academically in his class. As he raises his hand to be sworn in I cry. Oh I hold it in well considering there were probably 150 people there. I didn't want to boo hoo because it was plainly obvious that no one else was.
Fast forward two months later to February 8th and he is on his first official night of work. The night before I lost it emotionally and told him I wasn't ready. I cried so hard I literally could not blow my nose for all the mucus that had made a home there. Oh did I mention, I don't like being home alone at night. The joke at my house is the wild things come out at dark. Really they do. Crazy sounding birds and all kinds of animal sounds.
So here I am as he begins his third week of work. I had to find an outlet for my anxiety and boredom. This is all so new to me. I cannot get used to the fact my husband is a cop. Oh, he'll be good. Real good. He was born to do this and I cannot begrudge him that. It also helps he looks HOT in his uniform.
Join me in the journey of being the cop's wife. I'm sure it will be a blast. I am after all having a fabulous time with it. Note the heavy sarcasm.
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