54 degrees in March after over 30 inches of snow in February? I was most definitely outside yesterday. I explored two different parks in Columbus with my camera in hand. Of course, I always have my camera in my hand, it being mostly attached to my face.

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.

We got our Girl Scout cookies just yesterday. We experienced a bit of a delay thanks to the Never Ending Winter of Doom. I had two of my favorites last night. Just two. I asked if it was possible to eat just two, considering that two Samoas pack 150 calories and I didn’t want to exceed my daily limit. While it was suggested that I just eat the entire box so that I didn’t have the same problem today, I did manage to eat just two.

Later, as I stared longingly at the box from across the room, I realized something. Samoas are a firefighter’s favorite cookie!

Firefighter helmet wearing Girl Scout! A female firefighter showing girls how to use a fire hose! Hooray for the Girl Scouts!

I then did a little Googling to see if there was any specific reason as to why the Samoas box features firefighting as a profession. During that search, I found a happy little story about a fire station serving as the delivery center for a troop’s cookie order. (And a few other stories that were similar!) I then learned of a special badge, the 2010 Gift of Caring Project, which encourages Girl Scouts to deliver boxes donated by their customers to firefighters, police officers, shelters and other non-profit organizations. I can tell you that FireDad’s station wouldn’t turn down a box of free cookies.

Unfortunately, I can’t tell you why the Girl Scouts chose to use a firefighter themed picture on their Samoas box. They’re two great pictures and I send a big thumbs up to the Girl Scouts for including them because we know that women make wonderful firefighters. I would tell you that we were making the Samoa the Official Cookie of the FireFamily but, alas, FireDad doesn’t like coconut.

Guess I’ll have to eat them, two by two…

…all by myself. Done and done.

It’s tough competing with FireDad.

I mean, if you were a four year old and you were asked, “Do you want to be a firefighter like your daddy or a writer/photographer like your mommy,” what would you choose? If you were a two year old and asked the same question, what would you answer? I lose every time. Every single time.

I don’t run into burning buildings. I stand outside with my camera and try to capture the action; I don’t live it. I write about what I felt afterward; I don’t tell the firefighter stories that start with, “So there I was, flames shooting seventy feet in the air.” Feelings are always less interesting than flames shooting in the air. I don’t save people’s lives. I don’t drive a big, red, shiny fire truck.

I’m so boring.

I was getting ready to head out to work last night and LittleBrother was bebopping around the kitchen. I told him that I was getting ready to go to work and asked, “At the new-paper?” I confirmed that and asked if he wanted to go with me and said, “No.” Then I launched into a series of (leading) questions and asked him if he wanted to be a firefighter or a photographer when he grew up.

“Fireman.”

Okay, so I apparently need to work on gender-inclusive titles on top of my children thinking I’m boring. Thrilling.

At that point I pulled a typical Mommy Guilt moment and boo-hoo-ed that no one wanted to be like me. FireDad gave me a look that said, without saying anything at all, that I was being lame on top of being boring. Even more thrilling. I put on my coat, whined about the weather and started to give out goodbye kisses. During my whining and dressing for the Never Ending Snow, LittleBrother had made his way to the toy box, found his (play) camera and came to take my picture.

“Say boogers and cookies, Mommy.”

Aww, maybe he is more like me than I think. Thrilling.

When FireDad and I started dating, he was finishing up his schooling to become a full Paramedic. He was working full-time at the local ambulance company. He was also in the Army. And I knew that his long term goal was to become a professional, paid firefighter. I don’t know why I was surprised when he got on the fire department and continued to work at the other two jobs.

Eventually he finished his time with the Army. Now he only works at the ambulance company on an as-needed basis which, thankfully, is a rare occurrence. Today being one of those days I am left to think about how firefighters often work more than one job. Quite honestly, it’s one of the reasons that working outside the home is so difficult for firefighter spouses. As Val from Fire Fighter Wife said,

If I held a 9-5 I’d have been fired many times in the last 3 years.

It’s true. Many things prompted my departure from the news station in 2006. I felt that I was missing too much of BigBrother’s developmental awesomeness. I was paying out almost all of what I was making in child care. As FireDad was still working both jobs and still active duty in the military at the time, our schedule was stretched past its elasticity. I had missed too much work due to scheduling conflicts, doctor’s appointments and child care issues. When I suffered a miscarriage that summer and my employer refused to be understanding, that straw broke the camel’s back and I started paving the way to come home to work.

Working at home with the fire schedule isn’t without challenges either. Trying to meet deadlines while chasing two little boys around our house (see pictures here) isn’t always the easiest thing ever. If I hadn’t left the news station, I’m sure that I would have been fired at some point since the fall of that year. Like Val mentioned, we’ve taken extended vacations, stayed an extra day or two at my parents or just generally had a relaxing day when we need it. As FireDad is working at the ambulance company today and the fire department for 24 hours tomorrow, I’m going to go ahead and claim Wednesday as a family fun day. But my deadlines will still loom and the work will need to be finished despite any amount of fun that is to be had.

Adding in my part time job has been an interesting transition that is working surprisingly well. I had thought that while the kids were still small and at home with me most of the time (BigBrother goes to preschool three days a week) that I couldn’t work outside the home. I’ve found something that may not pay the big bucks but allows me to stretch my creative wings just a little bit and talk to adults on occasion. So far the boys have mostly been with either FireDad or a grandparent when I’ve had to work. Once we had a day like today where our schedules simply conflicted and we had to call in our trusted, awesome babysitter. I think I’ve used her less this year than I did last year before I started working. Life is funny that way.

As I sit here and count down the hours until FireDad is home today so that I can get some of my things done, I am reminded to be grateful for the jobs we do have. We’re the lucky ones, especially knowing that so many families are struggling right now. Yes, sometimes it’s hard to schedule. Sometimes we’re overtired. We’ve had to make hard decisions and follow through with the difficulties that followed. But not only are we both working but we’re both working in/at things we love while making time for family. Yes, I think we are the luckiest.

Remind me of this the next time that FireDad is off on a fire for more than 36 hours, okay?