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!)

FireDad went back to work yesterday. With the way our vacation fell, he was off from the fire department for a total of 13 days. Thirteen days. Even for our wedding and honeymoon stretch, we’ve never spent thirteen days together. Normally he leaves for the fire department every third day and spends twenty-four hours there, leaving me at home with a bed to myself. I love sleeping next to him but, really, I’ll be honest, that third night? It’s nice.

We made jokes about being sick of each other by the time our thirteen days were up. We laughed and said we’d never make it through a seven day vacation and associated travel, let alone the full thirteen days. But, at the risk of sounding horribly sappy: it was flipping wonderful.

We took walks on the beach. We splashed water at one another. We went shopping without children (which is the benefit of vacationing with extended family). He bought me my first-ever fishing pole which is pink with lights. Then he took me surf-fishing, taught me how to properly cast in the ocean and even let me re-bait my own hook. (I’ve been fishing before but have never owned my own pole. With lights.) We sat on the deck in the evenings, silent and still. We teased and we poked. We laughed and we joked. We spent time with our boys together, taking them to the aquarium. We splashed with them in the ocean. We argued with one another over whether or not to go east or west at one point. (Perhaps I was wrong because I wanted to stay at the beach? Yes?) We learned dorky information about the route home (like the state line between Virginia and West Virginia is inside the East River Tunnel).

And, of course, I took lots of pictures of the two of us.

(Also: I wear a lot of green because it’s my favorite color. Obviously.)

We don’t have a ton of pictures of ourselves. In fact, the photographer we hired for our family portraits on the beach made sure to get some of the two of us by ourselves because we haven’t had any of that nonsense since we got married! I’m hopeful that they turn out well and that FireDad isn’t making his “I’m Purposefully Trying to Mess Up Your Photo” face. Like this one.

And so, yesterday came, bringing our vacation days to a final end. FireDad woke up to an alarm, something we didn’t do since we set out on vacation at 3:00 on August 15th. He showered, got ready and came in to give me a kiss. I felt sad as he left, knowing it will be a long time before we have another thirteen days together. I did roll over and snuggle into his pillow, catching a bit of sleep before the boys woke me up. We spent our day without FireDad running errands and doing the school orientation thing. But by dinner time, we simply missed him. So we stopped at the fire department and got some time in with our favorite firefighter.

He came home this morning and we’ve worked our way back into our normal routine. I’m sad that he has to leave us every third day but, really? The bed last night? All to myself? It was good.

–

Having returned from vacation this past weekend and  not having done the grocery shopping until just this morning (we did a lot of pasta), I have absolutely no pictures of food to share with you for this week’s You Capture theme. We’re lucky we ate. (We also did pizza. And went out for Mexican yesterday. My diet? What diet?) But, as we’re back in our routine now, hopefully I’ll have some pictures for next week’s challenge: Old Signs. Ooh, fun.

I know I just got sappy about FireDad on Friday but, well, it’s Father’s Day. And that involves a little extra sappiness. I asked BigBrother a series of interview questions. The results are sweet and, well, sometimes humorous. He may be a comedian someday. But he loves his daddy, that’s for sure. This series of interview questions went around the internet recently and I decided to catch them on video (since making videos is one of BigBrother’s favorites).

For the record, even though he has a baby face, FireDad is older than sixteen. Just clarifying that I’m not breaking laws.

Sadly, FireDad is working today. We’re heading to the fire department this evening to give him gifts and take some yummy goodies. We’re sending all of our love to the best daddy in the world. (LittleBrother does send his love which is shown in the interview video by his napping. He’ll have a video next year. Promise.)

Happy Father’s Day to all of the dads out there!

It’s official. FireDad did not win Redbook’s Hottest Husband contest. I logged onto Redbook this morning to find that the winner, Rob Myers, has been announced. (Congrats to Rob and family! FireDad is not surprised as the winner is a Navy pilot. That gets a thumbs up from the FireFamily!) I had figured, as we hadn’t heard a single word from the magazine in either direction, that no news wasn’t good news but I had held a candle of hope just in case.

I informed FireDad this morning as we enjoyed a quiet, no-kids morning (as they have been kidnapped by my mother-in-law). He smiled and said it was okay. I asked him if he was upset. He said, unsurprisingly, that it was fine. I said, “That’s a shame, because I was going to make it up to you later.” He would like Redbook, our readers and the world to know that he is now very saddened by his loss. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

We had a good time with it. He had a good time with it. He took it all in stride, has endured months of, “So, did you win,” questions and has done it all with his beautiful smile. These, of course, are just a few of the reasons that I love him. I love that he can take something as cheesy as a “hot husbands contest” and barely bat an eyelash. I love that he agreed to pose for the newspaper. I love that he loves me despite all of my crazy antics. I love his sense of humor. I love how he is with our boys, how he is with the Munchkin and how he loves with his whole heart. I love everything there is to love about him, even when he leaves his socks on the bathroom floor. (Mainly because he puts up with me leaving my towel on… every… floor.) That’s love, folks.

He may not have won the popular vote on Redbook… but he’ll always be my hottest husband. (I mean, right?!)

And that’s how he feels about that comment.

Thanks to EVERYONE who took the time to vote. Thanks to everyone who tweeted, blogged, emailed, talked on the phone and generally spammed their real life friends with the URL to vote for my (hottest) husband. Thank you to all who have laughed with us and poked fun at my husband as he honestly had a good time. Thanks to WHIZ-TV for airing a piece about the contest and the Daily Jeffersonian for photographing my (hottest) husband for an article that ran on the front page of our local newspaper. And, lastly, thank you to my mother-in-law and father-in-law for not only combining genes but raising one wonderful, strong, funny, intelligent, mannerly and loving man.

I am the luckiest.