And Suddenly, Here We Are

(Part Two of “Martin Has a New Job”)

So, the tricky part about being a monotheistic believer—as I am—is that when you say “let’s just leave it up to God” and then things go the way you did not want them to go, WHAT THE HECK CAN YOU SAY?

Such as it was with the police officer job process. The local news ran an article that the police department had raised their maximum hiring age to 40, and as Martin had just turned 39, he thought it was worth it to apply. I didn’t, until a few glasses of wine with some enthusiastic friends convinced me to just go as far as the application. After all, Martin assured me, he had never gotten the job in YEARS of applying—why would he get it now?

Ha! Ha-ha! Foolish us!

Of course he got the job. He was hired in November after a string of tests and interviews. I was not a fan. I was not happy. He was to swear in at the new year and I was simply not on board. BUT, I had stupidly agreed to let God decide, so I went ahead with it.

To my delight though, Martin was the only one hired out of that particular applicant pool. Because it was only him, they gave him a badge number but put off his training for another four months. It seemed precarious (in terms of paychecks) but it all worked out perfectly, AND he got to go to Disney World with us in February, something we had not expected at all! And it gave me four extra months to fret about the change, and likewise, for him to convince me that it would be ok.

The extra time was such a bit of unexpected fortune, but it also made it feel kind of awkward to talk about the job. By the time he was actually sworn in, on Good Friday, I had gained little more enthusiasm for the situation. Then his days started out surprisingly easy—he was in classroom training for the spring and beginning of summer, which took place just up the hill from our house. He came home for lunch almost every day, was home by 5, and nothing felt very different from any other job. It didn’t feel like a change, so I didn’t really talk about it.

Compounding the discomfort was the knowledge that a lot of people simply don’t like cops, which is fine! But come on, I’m not going to just willingly drop that awkwardbomb into an otherwise pleasant conversation, especially when there hasn’t been much to even say about the job, as he was still in classroom training.

Well, now he is still in his probationary first year, but he wears his uniform and patrols with a field training officer, and works a weird schedule with two or three days off every few clumps of two or three 12 hour workdays. (It doesn’t make sense to me.) When he works, he leaves before I’m awake and gets home after dinner; between those times I hardly hear from him. In August he leaves for Police Academy, and then he’ll only be home on the weekends until mid-December. The downsides of the job are coming to light, but also the good parts—in just his few weeks on patrol he has done some beautiful things! Also some sad things. But mostly, he has not just been a professional Day-Ruiner! In terms of the wonky schedule, it’s really nice to be able to walk to the neighborhood sharing garden as a family on a Thursday morning. It’s nice for me to be able to do my grocery shopping alone on a weekday because he’s off and able to stay home with the kids. Yes, there are definite benefits to the schedule—especially as a homeschooling family! Buuuut, it’s still weird to be washing a police uniform, weird to see his badge on our bedside table, weird when he walks through my garden gate dressed as a cop at the end of his day when I’m just singing and weeding, and not expecting to be greeted by law enforcement. It’s weird. And maybe it wouldn’t have been weird back when we were in our early/mid-twenties, but our life has seemed so settled these past few years. So comfortable. And this feels like a very new and unfamiliar road.

In any case, I’m happy for him. His dream job came to him, and I think he will be GREAT. Honestly, if he had been hired as a twenty-something, he would have been too arrogant and young; he hadn’t had nearly the life experiences that make him the good, smart, compassionate guy he is now. Years of life’s trials, years of working with marginalized people, years of living in our junky neighborhood, years of realizing he’s just a speck among specks in this universe…. He’s a good person. And if we as a society expect more from our police officers, I guess wimpy hippie wives like me should be willing to let their good men go off and serve their community in that capacity, even if it comes at the price of holidays, nights, and every other weekend being spent apart. Besides, I still get to do what I love, which is staying home and homeschooling our girls!

I am undeniably pleased that he’s been introduced by friends as “the hippie cop” or “crunchy cop,” and that he seems to have a funny position among his coworkers as the oldest new hire on the department, EVER. He will always be himself, we will always be our little (in stature… not so little in number, haha) family doing the things we’ve always done. It’s a different road, but I think it will be a good one. And you know what, if Martin turns all jerky and awful, or starts to lose his ability to see the dignity of each human, rest assured there are six of us ladies here at home who will give him more than just an earful!