Monday, October 15, 2012


Hello and happy Monday, loveys! Weekend went well? And are you recharged and renewed for the work week ahead?

(Yeah, me either, but let's just fake it 'til we make it to Friday evening.)

Speaking of work, let's talk careers. What do you want to be when you grow up?

Well my son, at age 3, has decided on his future job, and I've gotta tell you guys, I'm not feelin' it.

Picture it: Last weekend my kids and I are minding our own business in the Halloween store. My daughter found the exact Disney pirate-girl costume she'd been wanting within 5 minutes. Yay!

My son was a bit more time-consuming. (Who says girls take longer to get ready? Psh!) Anyhoo...He walked slowly, scanning the aisles and disregarding one costume after another. Any suggestions I made were ignored entirely.

I couldn't rush him. This was likely the biggest choice he's had to make in all of his 3 years.

So I waited.

Checked my watch.

I walked a few steps away to look at other stuff.

Checked my watch again.

Finally, he said, "I want to be this for Halloween!"

I rushed over to see his choice, and I froze.

"Stop! Or my mom will shout!"
 A cop. My son, my baby, wants to be a freaking cop.

I know, I know. They'll change their minds 500 times during their lives, but it still makes me nervous, loveys. I mean, being a police officer, while noble and courageous, is freaking dangerous!

Can I be real with you guys? I'm kinda hoping my babies choose jobs that A) keep them near me, B) keep them afloat financially, and C) keep them safe. Something like, oh, I don't know...Writing? Accounting? Knitting?

But no.

My son tells me every day that he's a policeman.

(Kinda slick really, when I'm telling him to brush his teeth, or go to bed, or stop biting the dog's tail, and he hits me with, "No, I don't have to, because I'm a policeman, so I'm the boss.")

Okay! Okay! No nap for you.

I guess it would be a great source of pride to raise some kind of hero though. I mean, it takes a special kind of person to take such huge risks for such small reward. Lord knows I'm not brave enough to patrol anything darker than my own pantry, so I'm glad they are.

I went to a charity boxing match, cops vs. firefighters, not too long ago. The girls were just as tough as the guys, which still makes me smile. It was some extra-special kind of awesome to know these ladies and gents are badass enough to not only suit up and patrol every day, but they're also taking additional time from their lives to train for, then compete, in a sporting event to raise money for Backstoppers.

Guns 'N Hoses events will rock your face off.
Or knock your face off, depending on your level of participation.

I've known a few police officers, firefighters and military men and women, and I do feel incredibly grateful to have them watching my back.

Hmm...maybe having my son or daughter become cops wouldn't be so bad.

I took a long walk to gather my thoughts. I just needed to clear my head. First, I ran into this guy:

Thanks for watching my back, Officer. And my front.
 He actually made me feel a little better. He made it seem so damn appealing, I even thought about entering the police academy myself!

Picture it:

Somehow it looks less cool when I do it.
Okay, we'll scratch that idea.

But seriously, I've decided that no matter what career my kids choose, I'm behind them 100%. I guess I'll worry about them wherever they end up in life. And it truly does warm my heart to think that maybe I could raise a couple of hardcore, badass pillars of society.

So I'm a-okay now, loveys. Thanks for asking. And all it took was some serious thought, a bit of reflection, and a lingering conversation with this guy:

Thanks for the pep talk, Sir. Now I feel your point.
So what do you want to be when you grow up?

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