Police Wife Life

Outside of college, have you ever made a beer run at 8:30 a.m.  I just did.  Danny and I are not big drinkers.  We rarely drink at all, but every now and again an occasion rises.  This past Sunday brought about one such occasion, but not like you are thinking...


Sunday morning, 25 minutes after Danny's shift was supposed to end, I get a text "going to be late this morning".  To which I replied with as much sarcasm as possible in a text message "realllly?"  No response.  The lack of response was a sign.  At around 8:00 a.m. my knight in shining Kevlar finally made it home.  I asked him the usual "how was your night?" He looked at me with pain in his eyes and said "Not good.  Not good at all."  He went on to say he didn't want to talk about it, and I knew better than to ask him to do so. 


Danny had made mention that he wished we had some beer.  I volunteered to go buy some, but he told me I didn't need to.  That he would be fine.  I watched him, sitting there looking so defeated and worn, all the while wondering what it was he had experienced that had him so down trodden.  To see this hero of mine this way broke my heart, but I wasn't about to let him know that.  I got up, got dressed and went to the store.  I was willing to do just about anything to help alleviate his pain, and the drive gave me opportunity to cry for him without him seeing me.  My heart was aching for this brave man who chooses every day of his career to go out and combat the evil of this world, who that day came home defeated. 


The only mention he made the rest of the day about the call was that in his 17 years in law enforcement he had never experienced anything like that and he hoped to never again.  I didn't ask questions.  I knew if and when he was ready to talk about it, he would. 


Thursday night, Danny was ready.  He looked at the obituaries in the newspaper.  He paused, looked at me and said, "do you want to know why my night was so bad the other night?"  The call he responded to was an infant in distress.  He was met at the front door by an elderly gentleman saying, "Danny, save my grandson."  He led Danny to the bedroom where there was a 3 month old baby boy laying unresponsive.  Danny started CPR and continued until he heard the ambulance pull up out front.  He then scooped that baby boy up in his arms and ran out the front door with him, jumped over a brick retaining wall and yelled at the ambulance drivers to open the back doors because he was bringing the baby to them.  The medics went to work on the baby in the back and Danny jumped into the driver's seat of the ambulance and took off. 


My hero did everything in his power to save that precious baby. God love him!  When members of the public see an officer in uniform, they see a power hungry, ego ridden, bully with a badge and a gun.  For the greater majority of officers, that couldn't be the farthest thing from the truth.  Behind that badge and the gun is a human, with a heart and emotions, who chose a career where they spend every day seeing the ugliest of the ugly of this world.  God Bless Them!  The next time you cross paths with an officer, at the very least smile at them.  Say hello.  Shake their hand.  Tell them thank you.  You never know what kind of call they just came off of.  Your simple act of kindness may help make a miserable shift a little more bearable. 

Ugh Disdusting!

The more Grant's speech develops, the more his personality and opinions shine through. The other morning we were headed out to the car when he stopped in the driveway and said "UGH! WHAT IS DIS? DISDUSTING!" I figured he had discovered a dead animal or some dog feces or something of that nature. As I approached where he was standing he pointed to a cigarette butt laying on the ground and said, "A SMOTE. DROSS." I do think smoking is a nasty habit, but don't ever remember expressing that in front of Grant. It is HIS opinion of the habit, and I am proud he is able to express it.

When I Grow Up

Before Grant's graduation from kindergarten, one of the moms took these amazingly adorable pictures of each student in a graduation cap and gown. In the pictures they were holding a chalk board with their answer to the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" written on it. On Grant's was written "wrestler". Since we rarely watch wrestling at our house, I am not certain Grant knows what a wrestler is, nor am I certain he can physically pronounce the word. I figure when asked the question, one of two things happened: 1) they could not understand what he said in response to the question or 2) he didn't answer and they took a wild guess based upon his personality (after all, he is a bit rowdy). None the less, know one knew the true answer... That is until today! Lately, Grant has been fascinated with the fact that his dad is a police man who catches bad guys. We were driving past the prison when he asked me, "Poweece, mom." I explained that no, that place was a prison and prisons are where the bad guys had to live after daddy caught them. That's when he said, "Me, Drant, a Poweece. I tatch bad duys, momma." I asked him, "Do you want to be a policeman when you grow up?" To which he replied with a huge grin on his face, "Yes. Tatch bad guys!" Oh that boy...

This Little Light of Mine

May 14, 2015 - the third annual National Apraxia Awareness Day. I sit here trying to wind down after a hectic day filled with love and support for Grant and for Childhood Apraxia of Speech. I think about when this apraxia journey first began over 3.5 years ago, and I sit in amazement. everything has changed - for the better, of course. Grant's speech has greatly improved. I have gained a great deal of knowledge about apraxia and have learned to be a better advocate for Grant as a result. Grant has taught me endurance, commitment, dedication, resilience and love like I had never imagined. there are days where I hate apraxia, but not today. because of apraxia, today I felt love and support from far and wide, and for that I am humbled and blessed. However, there is one thing that has not changed. That is the light that shines within Grant. Since he was born, there has been something special about him. As an infant, he had the ability to charm young and old with his sparkling blue eyes and oh so precious dimples. As a toddler, he was able to bring comfort to those during the most difficult of times - with just his presence. Now as a child, he loves like no other and spreads happiness and joy far and wide with his infectious squealing laugh and freckled smile saturated with orneriness. He touches so many using so little words, but there's this light... At his kindergarten graduation, I watched in anticipation (reference the shepherd who stole the show post). Grant and his classmates were on stage performing to two songs. I wondered how he would do. Would we have a repeat performance of the leaping shepherd? Would he face forward the whole time? Would he be able to do the motions or mouth any of the words to the song? What I witnessed that night was one of the most breath taking performances. I can't tell you what the second song of the program was because I still had tears in my eyes from the first one and was still in awe of the revelation that came to me through Grant's performance. You see, the first song was "This Little Light of Mine". Each child held a battery operated tea light candle in their hands as they sang. They were supposed to hold it high up in their hands, but not Grant. He held his little light shining close to his heart. It matched the light that he has coming from within. I know I need to take more time to just step back and see. Grant's little light may not shine in the way his classmates' do, but it shines and it shines perfectly his way. Oh that boy... I love him so!

Why Do I Participate in the Walk for Childhood Apraxia of Speech?

When Grant was first diagnosed with Childhood Apraxia of Speech, I was lost. My perfect little angel had a disorder that I, nor anyone else I know, had ever heard of. I was desperate for answers, guidance and support. I felt so alone in this world. I spent hours researching. In my research, I happened upon a facebook group called apraxia-kids. Thank God! There, I learned that we weren't totally alone. There were thousands just like us! In that group became familiar with the Childhood Apraxia of Speech Association of North America, the National CASANA Conference, and the Apraxia Walks. Still reaching for answers and support, I applied for a scholarship for the National Conference. I wanted the best opportunity to learn as much as I could about apraxia in order to help Grant. A few weeks later I was notified that I was a recipient of a partial scholarship which waived all but $80 of my registration fee. I was never more excited to pack my bags and head off on my own. It was tough, though. This was the first time I had ever left Grant for more than 36 hours. You see, conference lasts 3.5 days plus travel time, but tis trip was FOR Grant, so off I went. CASANA Conference... WOW! What an experience. To be surrounded by parents and professionals who all have one main thing in common - APRAXIA. They got it. They all understood and I didn't have to explain to anyone what apraxia was. We spoke the same language, and we shared the same goals. How inspiring! I learned so much about apraxia and being a parent of a child with apraxia that my head was swimming. The entire conference experience was so fulfilling that when walking out the front door after my last seminar, I literally cried knowing the experience was coming to a close. At conference, I learned about the many programs (including conference itself) that are funded by the apraxia walks. I met the walk "guru" (Justin LeWinter) himself as well as several walk coordinators and was inspired. I had to see what this apraxia walk thing was all about. That year, there was not a walk in Oklahoma, so Grant, my sister-in-law and I loaded up and headed to Dallas to participate in their walk. Again, wow! This time, not only was I surrounded by parents and therapists but also KIDS with apraxia! Grant had the opportunity to meet and play with other kids who were a lot like him. The day was all about the apraxia superstars! There were several fun activities for them before the walk. All of those who walked were walking in honor of these children and all of their hard work. After the walk came the medal ceremony - a moment I will never forget. When Sarah placed the medal around his neck, he beamed with pride. He was being recognized, not for being different but for the hard work, determination and tenacity it takes to battle childhood apraxia of speech. He always has been and always will be a super hero in my eyes, but that day he was a super hero in everyone else' eyes as well. CASANA is a fantastic organization headed up by loving, big hearted individuals who have "been there" and understand the struggles of children with CAS as well as the struggles of their parents. I walk to help raise funds so that they may continue the many programs they offer. I walk to be surrounded by other families and children who "get it". Mainly, though, I walk for my super hero, Grant. May he always leap tall buildings in a single bound and soar high above all expectations. I walk to help him beat the villain called apraxia.

Let's Go Fly a Kite, Mom

Grant received a small kite for Easter and has been anxiously awaiting going outside and flying it. This evening was fairly breezy so I told him we would go out and fly his kite. I put the kite together and ran up the driveway trying my best to get it to take flight. Just as it was gaining some elevation, Grant grabbed the tails and down it came. He was excited and I was aggravated. I picked the kite up to try to get it flying again. I told Grant to leave it alone and let me do it. He ran along side of me begging, "I help, mom. Me do it, mom." I explained it wasn't as easy as it looked. Up and down the driveway we ran. I was trying so hard to get the kite to fly high in the sky so I could hand over control to him. That's when he taught ME a lesson. He looked at me and said, "Let do, mom. I do it." He picked up the kite and string and took off running. The kite flew - not very high, but he was doing it on his own. It was beautiful and he was so proud of himself. Yes, I need to let go a little more and let him "fly" on his own. It may not be very high, nor for a lengthy amount of time, but it will be HIS way, and his way is perfect. Oh that boy... I love him so!

You prayed for this...

You prayed for this... I kept reminding myself as everywhere we went yesterday Grant asked "what's that?" "What say?" After answering what seemed like a bazillion what's thats I responded with "I don't know Grant. You tell me. What is that?" He responded with "pop truck" while pointing at the delivery truck sitting outside the Pepsi cola bottling company. This morning I was playing around swinging a sock back and forth at him like some sort of ninja when he challenged me "Oh yeah?" and came toward me. Then he stopped and said "Han me a sock" I couldn't help but laugh. Oh yes! I. Prayed. For. This!!