Today my husband celebrates five years with the fire department. I celebrate with him, of course, because the past five years have been amazing. Busy. Kind of crazy. Sometimes very difficult. Maybe a bit tiresome and exhausting at times. But amazing.
He hasn’t changed much. I mean, look at him.

He’s still a baby face as he was in this picture five years ago. I don’t think he’s been asked if he’s old enough to drive the fire truck recently but he still regularly gets carded. He may look the same but he’s changed a lot as well. In good ways… mostly.
The adjustment period of being on the fire department wasn’t always easy. Of course, we further complicated things by immediately conceiving and adding BigBrother to our family. And then we bought this house. And then we had LittleBrother. So from picture frame one to picture frame two in the above photo, a lot happened. Yet he never backed down from the challenge. I suppose that’s the firefighter in him.
I won’t say that I worry less when he runs off to a fire. We all know that I worry. I will say that I’ve gotten used to the worry which is entirely different than not worrying. Adjusting to the schedule was also a challenge, one that I think we both struggle with at times as well. I think, as I said above, we’ve struggled most while also undergoing other personal life changes and challenges. The sleep deprivation of the newborn phase doesn’t always work well with the sleep deprivation of firefighting or the sleep deprivation of solo parenting brought on by firefighting. But we made it through that… twice over.
For five years, I’ve sent him off to work every third day, knowing that he’ll be home twenty-four hours later. For five years, he’s come home twenty-four hours later and made the coffee, helping me get the day started for forty-eight hours together. For five years, we’ve learned more about the fire life and about each other. While this particular anniversary isn’t our anniversary (ours is in December), it’s still a milestone I think we both celebrate.
I mean, five years means three weeks of vacation instead of two. Celebration indeed.
I can’t wait to see what the next five, ten, fifteen and twenty years bring us with regard to fire stories, memories and family life. No more pregnant shots like this:

Or this:

But, most definitely more of this:

Happy Five Year Fire Anniversary, FireDad! We’re proud of you!
(But really… three weeks of vacation! WOOHOO!)
















