“BUZZ LIGHTYEAR!”

I was about to correct him. I don’t know why. I usually encourage imagination play and adore the cast of Toy Story. Maybe I was still grumpy after being locked indoors for weeks. Maybe I was overtired. Maybe I was tired of every last thing being about Buzz, Woody and the gang. Maybe I was even going to explain something scientific though that’s highly unlikely. Before I opened my mouth and squashed his imagination, I looked up at the sky.

Ah, yes, Buzz Lightyear. I understood in an instant.

The exhaust trail behind an airplane (a contrail for my wordy friends) will never be viewed the same. A few days after that experience, I was driving home from a shopping trip with my mother. I was driving into the sunset; reds and oranges and yellows meeting up with the still blue sky. I eventually counted nine contrails. However, I didn’t call them contrails in my head.

I smiled, glancing in the mirror at the two boys sleeping in their car seats behind me. They’re going to grow, too quickly. Someday they will explain that the contrails are formed by the hot exhaust hitting the cooler atmospheric temperature and making visible condensation. They’ll use big words. It will be all scientific and old. I’ll nod. I’ll add in something interesting. We’ll make a joke. But I’ll always remember that moment where a plane in the sky was a beloved character. I’ll always remember the way my heart soared when I realized what he was talking about; how thankful I was for his point of view.

I’ll always call them Buzz Lightyear trails now. Forever. To infinity and beyond.

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[Disclosure: That's an Amazon Affiliates link up there. It wasn't necessary but, omg!guys!, Toy Story 1 and 2 are coming out as a special edition, two-disc, Blu-Ray combo pack! On Tuesday! SQUEE!]

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For more Wordless Wednesday, visit 5 Minutes for Mom.

Technology makes that a bit more difficult.

I was behaving yesterday. I had the scanner turned off. We were spending a lovely day at home. I hadn’t talked much to FireDad on the phone but I knew that he had been busy, just as we had been at home. I called at one point but there was no answer. I figured he was busy with some fire station work. After the boys settled down in bed, I sat down to catch up on a bit of Facebooking when I learned from someone at the newspaper that there had been a house fire that day.

Instant panic.

Suddenly the fact that I hadn’t talked to my husband all day became a scary thing, not a normal thing. Was he okay? Were the other firefighters okay? Before my mind had time to go over all of the scary questions, the phone rang. It was FireDad. Instant fear relief. They had just finished washing up the trucks and he had taken his shower which is why he hadn’t answered earlier. All was well at the fire department.

Later I thought about how my calm day had been ruined by technology. I knew to avoid the scanner. Had FireDad told me about the fire when he called that evening, I would have been fine as it was after the fact. But those few minutes in between were not fun. Prior to the immediacy of Facebook and twitter, I wouldn’t have known about the fire without the scanner on (or being at work). Now, of course, I can find out about just about anything, almost instantly.

On the one hand, that’s good. On the other hand, I have gotten used to learning about most fires after the fact. It’s in my nature to be anxious and worry and, as such, I prefer hearing that the fire was big but everyone came out just fine. Should I now avoid Facebook (and even twitter) on FireDad’s shift days? Do I keep the computer turned off when he’s at work? It’s an option, perhaps a valid one.

Today’s fire spouses are now inundated with ways to keep up with their firefighters. While that can be a great thing, I continue to learn that every Internet application can be a double-edged sword. Whatever the case, I am glad that FireDad came home this morning and gave me my normal hug and kiss. Worries instantly alleviated more quickly than the immediacy of twitter… until his next shift day, that is.

I’m mostly confused as to why Mendehlson and others like her are continuing to beat the generational dead horse. Maybe this horse is slightly different but it’s still just a spawn of the dead horses we’ve beaten over the years. Go to work. Stay home. Stay home but work. And all the little issues and nuances in between those arguments. Over and over until we’re blue in the face, confused and fighting with one another. And the question has to be asked why women and mothers are actively seeking a community in which they feel as though they belong? Being attacked in such a manner usually makes people band together.

The other problem I’m having beyond the tired variation of the Mommy Wars being delivered by another mother is the point that we should actually be rejoicing in our mothers having interests, hobbies and even careers in something that they love. We are not mindless. We do not retire our interests, desires, hopes and dreams simply because we are parenting children. As long as these mothers can find moderation, they’re doing what we should all want for ourselves. We want our children to see us interested in something, to show them that they can have interests and be successful. Other examples include reading, scrapbooking, yoga and cooking to name a few. All of those things in moderation can be absolutely wonderful. They even have retreats and conferences for these hobbies. If Mama Jane Doe went to a weekend cooking class to better herself, have a good time with friends and generally enjoy herself, is Jennifer Mendelsohn going to write an article about how she’s ignoring their children? What about all weekend scrapbooking retreats? Are these now off limits? Should mothers forego their yoga class on Thursday nights? Should we quit reading all together?

These are silly questions, of course, because the nasty finger-pointing initiated by Mendelsohn was silly. Unless a Mom is saying, “I can’t feed you because I’m busy reading a book while in this inverted yoga pose that is helping me think about my blog more than you,” the issues as to time spent and validity of the hobby are neither Mendelsohn’s business nor mine.

Finding balance is hard for any mom. I think that’s one thing we struggle with no matter our career choices or hobbies. My recent and very part-time return to work brought about some negative reactions from both people online and in my real life. While they were few and far between, they still stung. The truth is this: if it came down to it, I’d choose my family over any job. More over, what Mendehlson is missing, if it came down to  it, I’d choose my family over my blog(s). I don’t know many moms who would choose their blog, their career or their various hobbies over their children. They probably exist but they’re also probably not the people we’re talking about right now.

I have found some great communities through blogging. Not only do I have a large number of people with whom I network and, you know, begin writing books with but I have support in other women and mothers. I have found healing through the adoption community and blogging at Chronicles has allowed me to find my peace. The fire, EMS and safety communities online are another great niche that have allowed me to learn about various things and help others learn, too. Mendehlson may think my communities are silly and time-wasting. I think using a large publication to essentially troll not just one but all mom bloggers is equally silly. The good news is, however, that the attack has banded us closer together and we’re feeling stronger than ever.

I am proud to be a Mother, a wife, a photographer, a freelance writer and, yes, even a Mother Who Blogs.

Change the batteries in your smoke detectors!

It is suggested that you change the batteries in your smoke detectors when Daylight Saving Time begins (and/or when it ends). You should also be testing your smoke detectors once a month by pressing that obnoxiously loud but life-saving little button. If you’re not, start doing so now. But change your batteries this weekend. It’s not that hard. I promise you.

The truth is that sixty-five percent of reported home fire deaths in 2000-2004 resulted from fires in homes with no smoke alarms or no working smoke alarms. (USFA) And of those, 43% were without a smoke detector all together. While those fancy pants ones are a bit expensive, the truth is that a regular, working smoke detectors can save lives. Furthermore, in places like Los Angeles, it is the law to have smoke detectors in all sleeping rooms. Did you know that? Do you know the laws of your city or state? If you don’t have one, please go out and purchase one today. If you’re struggling to make ends meet, give your local fire department a call and ask if they have a program to provide smoke detectors free of charge. If you’re unsure of where to install yours or how to change the batteries, give them a call as well.

I want all of our readers to be safe and having a working smoke detector is part of that! So change those batteries and try to catch up on some sleep!

But that doesn’t mean I never get Noised Out.

Toys make noise. The exhaust fan in the kitchen makes noise while I’m cooking supper. The dryer buzzes. My cell phone beeps. The neighbor doesn’t have a muffler. And while I’m glad that the birds are back and that Spring is near, man, those birds are loud at times. Sometimes, I just need quiet.

I don’t get much.

Sometimes I wake up before the boys do, though it’s hard to get up before BigBrother. His internal clock is set for Early O’Clock. Lately he’s been struggling to stay in his room until his digital clock reads seven-zero-zero. But sometimes I get to have a cup of coffee by myself in the wee hours of the morning, thinking about my day and planning our adventures before they begin.

Sometimes I get to have a glass of wine by myself at night with the television off, the radio off, the noisy toys quieted and the children fast asleep. Sometimes I get to read in my bed during those hours as well, every third night finding FireDad sleeping at the fire station for his usual shift. Sometimes the kids even leave me alone in the shower, the hot water erasing the stress of the moment. Those moments, however, don’t last long. What is it about a shower that sends absolutely everybody in the house to the bathroom door? I need a sound proof bathroom. That’s the fix.

To be honest though, I can only stand so much quiet. Yes, I crave it. But when it’s too quiet, I hear little noises. The sound of silence is actually too loud for me as we discovered in January when our electricity went out due to the snow storm. It’s deafening, that silence of nothingness. And so, while I get overwhelmed sometimes, I’ll take the noise even if it means that I sometimes get startled and spill my coffee on my robe, pants or new floor. The noise, of course, is just a sign that we’re happy and healthy and able to make that noise.

Or, that’s what I tell myself on the days that I want to run off and buy ear plugs.

For more quiet, visit today’s challenge at I Should Be Folding Laundry. Next week’s challenge is reaching. Hmm.

One of the parks was the Columbus Park of Roses. I didn’t know it existed. Despite the fact that no roses were in bloom (it is only March, after all) it was still fantastically beautiful. I caught some beautiful photos of the rose bushes that will soon spring forth with beauty, color and new life.

Throughout the park there are beautiful pathways. These pathways have 12×12 (and 8×8) engraved stones that people have purchased in honor or memory of someone in their lives. I enjoyed reading some of them as I walked and soaked up some much needed sunlight. Some included eulogies, like my favorite, “She never slowed down.” Others were wedding dates and names, most likely having been married during blooming season at the park.

And then I tripped over this one.

I literally read it as my foot passed over it and I had to stumble backward and reread it. I took a few pictures. I stood there for a few moments and wondered what individual or group of individuals thought to dedicate a stone in a park of roses to these firefighters. Was it someone who lost a loved one? Was it another firefighter who, living in Ohio, felt helpless in 2001? Was it a group of firefighters? Was it a family who felt a tug to honor their heroes? I don’t know the answer. Someone spent $200 to forever remember those firefighters.

I wish I could thank that person myself.

Fire life seems to touch so much of my own life. As we walked down the Short North last night after supper, a group of Columbus fire trucks raced to a scene that I assume was a false alarm. The aerial truck responded and a bit of fear pulsed through my veins. I didn’t get a picture because my fingers were frozen at this point, the sun having dipped down behind the buildings. But, like the stone in the park had said earlier that day, I gazed upon the scene with a hopeful heart that everything would be okay and said a prayer and a brief thank you. They may not be my firefighters from my department but they’re still part of our fire family, wherever I happen to be.

Even in a rose garden.

Let’s take a look at some recent and/or frequent searches.

1. Firefighter costumes/helmets/homemade/etc. It’s the number one search string in general, actually, that brings people to our humble Internet abode. Our favorite firefighter costume is still the Aeromax one that we reviewed last year. We have it in both black and yellow. As far as homemade costumes go, I will remind you that I’m not crafty. However, I did give some instructions and one of our readers actually accomplished it. Glad I could be of help!

2. Accidentally left gas burner on all night. QUIT GOOGLING. Turn it off. Open a window. Don’t turn on anything else. Get out of your house. QUIT GOOGLING. Call the Fire Department. Google outside from your phone. Out out out.

3. Fire helmet cookies. We actually got our fire truck, hydrant and helmet cookie cutters as a wedding gift with no brand imprinted on them. A quick Google search brings up a few affordable results, including this one from Fancy Flours. That said, I have a new tip to share other than the food coloring issue I shared last time. Roll your cookies thin. Whatever recipe you’re using, if you want your fire truck to look like anything more than a fluffy phallic symbol, roll them very thin. As an added tip: cook them for a minute less. Otherwise? Burnt cookies.

4. Do firefighters make more money when they ____. The rest of the search string was cut off. The answer? Likely not. Okay, okay. I kid. Firefighters may not be the highest paid people in our country but professional firefighters do make money. Most departments pay extra for call outs (you know, the fires that happen while you’re eating Christmas Eve dinner) and extended shifts. It depends on the department. But, in case you were wondering, you’re never going to be a millionaire on firefighting alone.

5. Is firefighting boring? No! Stories usually start out like, “So, there I was, flames shooting 30 feet in the air.” I mean, our sons want to be firefighters, not a freelance writer who moonlights as a photographer. To them, firefighters are the be all and end all of everything that is awesome. Yes, there’s down time as a firefighter. Yes, you have to clean trucks, wash floors and respond to false alarms. But anyone who considers running into a burning building to be a boring action likely has a strong death wish. Plus, there’s the added bonus of the uniform hotness. See below.

Whatever the reason you’ve landed here, I’m glad you have! Feel free to subscribe to the blog, leave a comment on a recent post or ask a question either in the comments on this post or via the contact form. I have a new firefighter book review (for kids) coming up in the near future along with a review of some “firefighter hot” snacks. Fun!

I’m tired of being stuck inside. I’m tired of the snow. I’m tired, mainly. I need fresh air that doesn’t burn my lungs. I need a little more green, it being my favorite color and all. I need more color than various shades of grey. I need Spring.

I’ve been feeling kind of down in the dumps, overwhelmed with our four walls and constant company. It’s not that I’d just turn my kids loose outdoors and not watch them; it’s that we need more space for our voices, our personalities. We need to stretch and run and spend that energy. It’s been a hard winter, too, having lost two family members. I need that hopeful feeling that the new growth of Spring brings.

And it’s so close I can almost taste it.

Buds. They’re coming. I can almost imagine the blooms that they will soon bring. I can almost imagine our apple tree in full bloom, buds pushing up through the grass. I can almost imagine grass. Snow is melting, here and there, and I can see the dull, dark browns and green from a winter of halted growth. Will it green up soon? Will it soon outnumber the patches, piles and inches of endless white?

I have this lament every year, like last year when I was worried about snow falling on my day lily sprouts. They came up on March 17th. That’s only thirteen days from now. Surely that means that hope is just around the corner, just waiting to be discovered. Right? Surely that means that the sun will shine more than just today. That soon the snow will melt. That maybe, just maybe, Spring really is coming this year, not leaving us in this frozen tundra of gloom and doom forever. Right?

This has been one of the worst winters I can remember; not just snow wise but emotionally as well. Maybe not the worst but it ranks up there quite high. I’m ready to feel new again myself. To shed my winter coat and stand with my face to the sun and let the bright rays of hope remind me of who I am and what it is that I am doing here.

I’m ready. Is Spring?

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[For more hopeful photos, visit today's You Capture Challenge at I Should Be Folding Laundry.]