The extraordinary life of an ordinary woman

You don't bring me flowers anymore!

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February 14

Years ago I remember hearing a song called, "You don't bring me flowers anymore." By Barbara Streisand and some guy whose name escapes me now.

It is a very depressing song about the end of a relationship, which has died from lack of attention. The chorus emphasis this fact as the title is sung with an extra sad feeling of melancholia.

I was thinking about this the other day as Valentine's Day was approaching. I honestly cannot remember the last time my hubby brought me flowers.

He used to buy me flowers a lot, years ago, along with cute little stuffed animals, silly little curios and various other inexpensive, but thoughtful gestures. 

My hubby also used to put a lot of thought and effort into the gifts he gave me for special occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, etc.

In the last few years these gestures have become fewer and farther in between. If I were to take a cue from Ms. Streisand I guess I should be getting the suitcase out and finding a place to move, as my marriage is done, Kaput!

But is it really?

My husband and I have been together almost sixteen years. In those years we have raised a blended family of nine kids, two nephews, a few friends of the kids that needed a place to crash for a while, two dogs, a scorpion, a mouse, a stray cat and a homeless rabbit. 

My husband accommodated my adoptive mother living in his home for 8 years, even though she was not the easiest person to get along with and had a knack for trying to cause upheaval in our family. 

My husband dealt as best he could with my older boys acting out and getting in trouble and supported me in my endeavors to get them on the right path.

My Mel stepped up and took on the full financial load in our family so I could be home with our children and try and make sure that they got the attention, help and love they needed to deal with life's up and downs as part of a blended family.

My husband paid for private schools, tutors, colleges, computers, sports fees, trips abroad, books, clothes, cell phones, games systems, clothes, sneakers, first dates, food and countless other things for our children. He has worked more hours than I care to think and never once thought of himself first.

My husband encouraged me to develop my acting career, my public speaking endeavors and writing skills; sitting through endless readings and re-readings of countless stories that I thought were stupid and he told me they were priceless. 

My husband has attended every game, recital, play, show, award ceremony and school event for every kid, even when he hadn’t gotten any sleep after working 16 hour shifts.

He taught kids how to swing a bat, throw a softball, run a base, shoot a basket, love unconditionally and many a nights he stayed up late to help mend a broken heart or counsel a troubled soul.

He bought our daughters special stuffed animals to nuzzle at night, dressed up for daughter/father dances and let a few tears flow at sweet sixteen passages of rite.

My husband cooked many a meal, even though he wasn't the best cook, when I was sick and unable to take care of my family.

My husband tells me he loves me with his hard work, honesty, dedication, respect and the total trust we have in each other.

My husband in all these years together, has never made me feel less of a person, has given me wings to soar and always made me feel safe.

My husband shows his love by putting up with my dog, and all the trouble he gets into, even though my hubby doesn't like dogs, because he knows how much I love my silly dog and how much he means to me.

My husband shows me love in the way he loves our grandson. In the way he records cartoons and movies that "his Tiki man" might like and is happy when he sees how well our married son and his family are doing.

My husband loves me in the way his eyes light up when we are making plans to go to Florida to see our son play baseball.

 

In the way he talks about how much fun we are going to have talking, taking walks, hanging out and doing the silly little things we enjoy doing together. 

He shows me he cares by driving an extra two hours out of the way so I can spend all the time I want searching for sea shells at the beach and instead of being inpatient, he picks out shells and rocks that he thinks I will like. My hubby always finds the most beautiful shells and rocks, and when I tell him this, he says its only because they remind him of me.

 

My hubby has given me a place to call home, an amazing extended family of in laws that fill me beyond words.

While my husband isn't a Harlequin romance hero, he isn’t snugly soft and he is rough around the edges, he doesn't ride a white horse, he doesn't cry over sappy love songs, he doesn't whisk me off to Paris on his private jet and he doesn't bring me flowers, he does so much more.

After all these years I still know that I am his girl and he is my guy, my best bud, my pain in my butt and the only man in the whole world that gets me for who I am, not who he thinks I should be.

 

Flowers whither and die just like relationships can if we obsess over the material things that society tells us our partners should or shouldn't be doing for us.

 

Relationships end because we are so focused on having our partners make us happy.

Our happiness is not anyone else's responsibility, but our own. The most loving, caring person in the world cannot fulfill us, if we ourselves are not fulfilled; but the right person can add joy, contentment and peace if we value the things that truly matter.

 

So this Valentine's day as my hubby gives me a box of his favorite chocolates, which we both know he is going to eat anyway, I will be thanking God that he doesn't send me flowers anymore.

 

I will also thank God that we have the rest of our lives together, ahead of us!

Happy Valentine's Day, Big Papa Pump! ;-D

Tales of a female Rookie-Nothing like self-defense!

This is a story I wrote for Helium.com

When I was in the police academy in 1984, there were a total of eight women out of fifty cadets in our class. If we all managed to graduate, that would bring the total of female officers to eleven out of 703 members of our state police department.

To say that I had no clue what I had gotten myself into was a very mild understatement. The rest of the women in my class had come from police families or had some form of prior experience.

The only thing I knew about the police was that a ride in the back of their car was a bad thing in my old neighborhood.

I was twenty one years old, married, already with three kids and absolutely the most sheltered person in the world.

Needless to say I was a drill instructor's dream, even though I was in great shape, smart with the books and knew how to keep my mouth shut, I had a knack for always being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the obligatory class fool.

It was not by choice either, it seemed every time this person decided to do something stupid I would be right next to them and was guilty by proximity.

One day during self defense class the fool, who will not be named, decided to show off his self-defense expertise on me.

I was not going to have anything to do with their foolishness so I just let them do their take down and thought that this would end it.

To my dismay our self defense instructor was right behind me. When I got up off the floor he proceeded to chew me out and tell me that women had no place on the department because we were weak and too easy to over-power.

I was not about to even consider arguing with a drill instructor so I just bit my tongue.

As a result of this, the self defense instructor took it upon himself to use me as his practice Dummy every chance he got during self defense class.

He also warned me that he would be lurking in dark corners and crevices to take me down, and if he succeeded I would have to do extra laps and push-ups.

After this had been going on for about four weeks, I was ready for him. One day after chow I was walking back to class when out of the blue the self-defense instructor came rushing out of the Men's locker room.

Without even a second thought I planted my feet, went down low and using my pivot point, I flipped him over to the ground and pinned him against the wall. 

Imagine my utter embarrassment when I heard a string of loud laughter coming from behind me. I looked up to see a large group of captains, Lieutenants, politicians and smack in the middle, our Police superintendent!

My attacker had been giving the brass a tour of our facilities and highlighting the quality of our training to local lawmakers and legislators! 

I hastily tried to help my 6'4, 210 pound instructor to his feet which just produced more laughter from the group as my small 5'4", 130 pound frame tried jerking him back on his feet.

I thought my face was going to fall off from how red it had turned.

Without missing a beat my instructor turned to the group and said, "this is just one of the components of training that we do here with the cadets!" and proceeded to guide the group down the hall.

The group gave me one more look and slowly followed the instructor as more laughter broke out. I think I stayed glued to the same spot for about ten minutes not sure what to do or if I still had a job.

I slowly started to walk back to the class, went around the corner, when I bumped smack into my self defense instructor again.

He raised his arms in self defense mode and I instinctively did the same. When he saw my reaction he let out a loud belly laugh and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

I was about to open my mouth to apology when he said," I better never see you behind a desk cadet!" and he walked away from me chuckling.

After I graduated and reported to my duty station for my first tour of duty someone had taped the name,

"Lambert-Linebacker" to my locker!

I am glad to say I very rarely had to do desk duty or got any lip from any of my fellow officers!

  

That's me rappelling off water tower number 2 Edwards Base, Cape Cod MA. January 07, 1992. Sunny and 15 degrees F, wind chill Factor minus 5. Good times! lol