Also, can someone hold a fundraiser for new curtains? Yikes.

While I was proud of my husband, I was also paying a lot of attention to one little boy hidden among the legs of firefighters as he took in the ceremony. If he ever becomes a firefighter, it’s because of little moments like these. Well, and the smoke in his blood. It’s there; ask any firefighter who begets a firefighter who begets a firefighter.

The award comes as a result of a call that many of my followers watched play out on twitter. A mayday was called, the first ever for our city. And the bravery and teamwork of others brought everyone out safely. The article in the paper describes it as “acts of valor.” Any firefighter knows that’s just the stuff that sells newspapers. FireDad tried to shrug it off. “It’s just my job.”

His award was the Unit Citation which is given for “a team effort under combat situations including all participating staff members who, in support of departmental operations, distinguished themselves to effectuate the protection of life and property.” Which again, FireDad will tell you is just a fancy-pants way of saying he did is job. Whatever the case, I’m proud.

And so are these boys.

And I’m proud of the other firefighters who received medals yesterday too.

But speaking of pride, do you remember the test that FireDad took last month while I was away in Vegas? There was a delay in the reporting of the results. They were read today. FireDad passed! And placed high enough that he gets the promotion! WOO!

Yes, I think pride describes the past two days quite well.

Pride is a post from Stop, Drop and Blog. Want more of Stop, Drop and Blog? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, contact me or hit me up via twitter.

I have grown over the years and through life experiences and interactions with others I have toned it down, pulled it back a bit. I am more discerning with people and opportunities. I am not quick to trust if you want me to invest money, but I may hear you out before — politely — telling you no. I do reserve some mistrust for the adoption industry as a whole, but even then I have this positive place inside where I believe that the work being done by groups like Ethica will someday make a difference and influence ethical reform. But, yes, I’m still a trusting person.

I kind of have to be. I am married to a firefighter.

When he kisses me on the head in the morning, heading off to another twenty-four hour shift, I have to trust that twenty-four hours later he is going to come home, pour himself a cup of coffee and sit in his recliner for an hour or so as he gets his Family Legs back. I have to trust that when I hear the scanner start to go crazy, his fellow firefighters will have his back and he’ll call me later in the evening. I have to trust when I hear a fire truck whiz by that my husband’s training and know-how will guide him through the proper ways to do his job. I have to trust that he’ll come home.

That’s a lot of trust expected out of one human being. Maybe that’s why I am how I am and I married who I did and we are where we are and who we are. I believe that my ability to trust so easily keeps me sane on the hardest of days.

I wonder then how our boys will be as they continue to grow. As of right now, they don’t yet “get” that firefighters can die. They know they can get hurt, but death is not something that has yet been questioned or brought up, though we’ve read books like Fireboat and September Roses. They’ve never put it together that their father could die in a fire. I prefer that — for now. But when they do find out, will the fact that we are just supposed to trust that he will come home cause them to trust easily in other areas of their lives? And is that a good thing or something to work against? I don’t know the answers.

I do know that as I step from tonight into tomorrow, I’m trusting that the changes I’m making in my life are going to be for the best. For more on that, tune in tomorrow. But for now, I am taking comfort in the fact that I am a trusting person.

And comfort in these guys…

Door open, move forward. Oh, and breathe.

Trust is a post from Stop, Drop and Blog. Want more of Stop, Drop and Blog? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, contact me or hit me up via twitter.

There are horrors I do not want to imagine; horrors I cannot allow myself to imagine.

The holidays. The children. The huge gaping loss. The senselessness of it all. I have watched the videos of firefighters lining the road to stand in salute as their fallen brothers were taken away from the hospital to the morgue. I have felt the heavy burden of the reality of firefighting heaped upon my shoulders and it wasn’t my fire house, my fire family or my husband.

I sat watching the news in a general state of shock yesterday. A few tears were rolling down my cheeks. BigBrother asked what was wrong. I didn’t tell him that firefighters died, just that they got hurt. He understands that firefighters can get hurt. During a fire earlier this year, our two best friends on the department were injured (note: paid article). We prayed special prayers for them. But I don’t think he knows yet the true danger that his Daddy faces. I pray neither boy ever fully grasps that concept.

When I find a way to donate to the Corey Ankum Memorial Fund, our family will do so. I haven’t met her. As far as I know, Dameka Ankum wasn’t a blogger — mommy, fire or otherwise. But she’s still a part of my family. And now she’s grieving. And will be for a long time to come. I huddled under my covers last night, trying to imagine what she was feeling and how she would make it through the night. I know the answer: her children. But that doesn’t make the pain disappear. My heart breaks for her; for the kids as well.

Similarly, if I find a donation fund for Edward Stringer, we will donate as well. As a mother, I cannot imagine my child dying in such a manner. As a daughter, I would be devastated to lose my father so dramatically, without a chance to say goodbye. I mean, I already have the presents for my own dad wrapped and under our tree. Devastating.

If you have a moment today, stop and think of these families who have lost so much so soon before Christmas. Hold them in your hearts, your minds and your prayers. Cover them with love. Whether you’re in Chicago or Pittsburgh or Columbus or Tampa or San Fransisco or Seattle or Toronto. Whether your’e part of the fire family or not. Families are grieving today. Hold them close. And don’t forget the surviving firefighters, whether injured or not. The fire family is a unique family unit. The grief is going to run deep for some time to come.

And if you’re part of a fire family, hug your firefighter a little tighter today.

Holding the Chicago Fire Department Close Today is a post from Stop, Drop and Blog. Want more of Stop, Drop and Blog? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, contact me or hit me up via twitter.

Hearing his voice on the phone later that morning made me feel like a twitterpated-teenager again. I was in love with his voice, his breath. As he drove down the lane toward me later that day, I could hardly control my joy, my relief, my love. I listened to his stories over a celebratory drink that evening. I held him close as we went to sleep. I woke up this morning and stared at his face (after I kicked the boys back out of our bedroom with promises of breakfast “in a few minutes”). I kissed him gently, overcome with thankfulness that I could do so. Again.

I bought this necklace a few weeks ago. I liked how it looked, but I didn’t know when I would wear it. Or with what. Yesterday I wore it with a brown shirt and a green cardigan. Today I’m wearing it with an ivory shirt and a tan cardigan. But it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t own a thing to wear it with; I’ll wear it on days like yesterday. I’ll wear it when I’m proud, when I’m afraid, when I’m missing my firefighter. I’ll wear it because it keeps him just that much closer to me, to my heart. His number, a fire truck, an axe, a hydrant, a helmet and the fact that he is my hero.

If you see me wearing this necklace, know that I have just sat on my couch in the pitch-black of night listening to the scanner. Maybe there was a mayday. Maybe there wasn’t. But know that my heart was in my throat and my brain was working on overdrive the entire time. We may know how to make our schedules work together, but I don’t imagine I’ll ever really get used to listening to my husband in imminent danger.

But let’s lay off on the mayday calls. I could really do without them.

Mayday is a post from Stop, Drop and Blog. Want more of Stop, Drop and Blog? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, contact me or hit me up via twitter.

I had a wide and varied library with me, but chose to dabble a bit in romance since I read romance novels so infrequently.

Now I remember why!

To boot, pun intended, these two romance novels were… wait for it… FIREFIGHTER ROMANCE NOVELS. Win.

The first was The Firefighter’s Secret Baby which started as a joke and then made its way through Denise, Sassymonkey and Elizabeth before being delivered to me. I love friends with humor. The book was somewhat different than I had expected. It was full of (cheesy) suspense, with things being blown up and people chasing the main characters. A baby is obviously involved. So is the FBI. And the mob. And the previously mentioned firefighter. And some kind of triggering adoption-speak, but it was too cheesy to be too triggering.

Kind of lacking in the realism factor. But that’s okay. What’s not okay, however, is the crazy sex the main female was having less than a week after a traumatic birth experience. I laughed. A lot. Not at the cheesiness of the writing (which, yes, it was still cheesy), but at the thought that any woman could read that section and possibly think that sex so shortly after birth would feel that good. Also? No mention of the breastmilk that was likely pouring at that point since she wasn’t nursing the baby. I had a good laugh.

This book was part of the Atlanta Heroes series… and, sadly, I want more to be available already.

As an aside, thank you to Denise, sassymonkey and Elizabeth for signing the book before sending it to me. That sentence is brought to you with a side of cheese. (Ha!)

The second was an accidental find at the library right before we left for camp. Island Sojourn by Katrina Thomas is another firefighter romance, with a small twist. This time the main female character is the firefighter, which is the fire time I’ve seen that in any firefighter romances I have read. (And I’ve read a few.) Of course, the man that she meets and falls for while on her beach vacation to the Outer Banks is, you might have guessed it, a firefighter as well. She’s a professional and he’s a volunteer.

This particular book was somewhat more believable than the previous one. It involves a lot of sisters, a beach house and shenanigans pulled by said sisters to get the younger sister someone to date. And marry. I kind of resented the fact that they were pushing her to date and marry just like them. Maybe she wanted to be single! Maybe she wasn’t interested in men! Maybe she was seeing someone on the sly back home! Get off her back, nosy sisters! But, as it always does, it worked out in the end.

This book had a great fire scene… until they sent the man in to make sure that she was okay. Granted, she ran in without a mask or any gear, which was silly. And she probably did need some rescuing. But I kind of resent the “let’s rescue women” theme in romance novels.

In the end, I kind of enjoyed both reads more than I wanted to. FireDad had a great time making fun of me any time he saw me reading either book. I would have made fun of me as well.

If you know of a firefighter book, romance or not, that I need to be reading, please let me know!

Bad Romance is a post from Stop, Drop and Blog. Want more of Stop, Drop and Blog? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, contact me or hit me up via twitter.

Firehouse Food: Cooking with San Francisco’s Firefighters is a beautiful cookbook in itself. It’s 224 pages of amazing photography, outstanding recipes and a bit of humor here and there. The introduction is a surprisingly moving one as well. (Who cries when they read a cookbook introduction? Just me.)

The dedication of the book also speaks volumes about firefighters and cooking.

To San Fransisco’s firefighters,
who understand the sustaining power of a nice hot meal.

Ah. True.

I actually borrowed this from the library as it is currently unavailable on Amazon or Barnes and Noble (though used copies are selling anywhere from $47 to $120!). I didn’t want to give it back to the library. I really, really didn’t want to do it. I did. After I renewed it three times. It’s just that good. I know it’s because I’m a sucker for both good food and good photography, but really, doesn’t it seem like a perfect addition to our household? I was sad to see it go.

We made quite a few recipes from the book while we had it, including the one for Irish Soda Bread. In fact, FireDad was the one who made the soda bread which was his first attempt at baking something other than pre-made cookies. Quite honestly, the two of us could have sat and picked at that delicious concoction for hours. Carbs? Love em. Sweet carbs that aren’t overly sweet? Love ‘em.

The only complaint that we had about this particular book is due to the location of where these firefighters live juxtaposed with the location in which we live. San Fransisco firefighters have much easier access to a wide variety of fresh fish than we do here in land-locked central Ohio. A large number of the recipes called for various kinds of fish and seafood. While our family loves seafood, it’s not easy to come by even in our reliable local grocery store (unless it’s Lent). There’s no fish market here. As such, some of the recipes were not possible for us to consider, let alone make.

That aside, the cookbook had a wide variety of recipes that we’ve adapted and placed in our rotation. A few pasta recipes were actually great hits with my kids as well as one of the various chicken recipes. There are many great sides including some great Caesar salad options which are apparently the big thing with San Fransisco firefighters. Each house has their own recipe.

What makes this cookbook truly great is that while it was still being printed and sold, some of the proceeds were donated to the SFFD Surviving Family’s Fund. I wish I could have gotten a copy back then (originally printed in 2003).

When it boils down to it (pun intended), we loved this cookbook. I only wish that we could get our hands on it to have in our own cookbook library. If you happen to see two copies, pick one up for yourself and send us the other! (I did just learn that the book itself is available to view on Google books. Check it out!)

I’ll have another firefighter cookbook review in July! Stay tuned!

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[Disclosure: Amazon link is through Amazon Affiliates but the book is no longer in print.]

Cookbook Review: Firehouse Food – Cooking with San Fransisco’s Firefighters is a post from Stop, Drop and Blog. Want more of Stop, Drop and Blog? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, contact me or hit me up via twitter.

He’s innocent until proven guilty (you know, despite the presence of eye-witnesses, ahem), of course, so I won’t be commenting on the case. What I do want to ask is this: what is his son’s career? Really, I need to know what his son does for a living.

Because we obviously had to know that the man-beating father with poor parenting skills was a firefighter. So, I want to know what the son does. Is he a CPA at his wits end at the end of tax season? A glee club teacher gone crazy after too many rehearsals for sectionals? A freelance writer who had been holed up working on a piece for too long? Was he a train conductor, a construction worker, a member of a band? Did he teach small children right from wrong in our school system? Did he fix my computer after hackers wrecked all of my data? Would he have come to fix my pipes after my kids threw something in the toilet that clogged everything up? Those occupations might be mentioned in the article at some point but would make an unlikely headline.

I get it. Firefighters, like police officers and soldiers, are held to a higher standard. They are here to serve and protect. When they go rogue and beat someone to death or start fires or any other number of heinous crimes, it’s kind of scary. These are the people we expect to save us. These are the people we count on when something bad is happening in our own lives. And so, when I hear a story about some firefighter who has gone off the deep end and started his own unintentional or, if the crime is premeditated, intentional smear campaign of firefighters everywhere, I want to create my own headline that reads: Freelance Writer, Full-Time Blogger and Part-Time Newspaper Photographer Goes Bat Poop Crazy and Hits Really Stupid (Alleged) Crime-Committing Soon-to-be-EX-Firefighter Over the Head with Her Really Heavy Purse-slash-Camera Bag. Except I’m able to keep my anger in check.

But that makes my other point, doesn’t it? If I beat someone up alongside the road, they’d most likely use my title of mom to make titillating headlines. Unless I was at, say, the BlogHer conference. Then I might get some reference to my work, though it would be something like, “CRAZY BLOGGING WOMAN KILLS EQUALLY STRANGE PEERS.” If my husband delivers the beatdown, well, screw his role of husband and father, it’s a firefighter! There are so many job titles that would never have made that headline, let alone the small article itself. I really want to see more occupational titles in headlines though. So I’m sure to avoid every person in any profession. Because the bad seeds should be able to speak for us all.

All of this is to say that my heart goes out to Mark Wallace’s family, the man who was beaten to his death by this unfortunate so-called firefighter and his apparently jobless son. I am so very sorry for your loss and that it came at the hands of someone who was supposed to protect.

Firefighter News Headlines or, Where Are the Murderous Plumbers? is a post from Stop, Drop and Blog. Want more of Stop, Drop and Blog? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, contact me or hit me up via twitter.

He was a 91 year old man. A World War II Army Veteran. His wife of 69 years died in 2008. He served on our fire department for 27 years. That’s just two years shorter than the length of my life at this point. He retired as a Captain.

FireDad told me about his passing on Friday, the day of his death. I don’t know if it’s because I celebrated a birthday and welcomed another year of my life or if because death and grief have been an all too present thought in my daily life as of late but I’ve been thinking a lot about firefighting, death and the like over the past few days.

I don’t think firefighters are better, in death or in life. They’re not all perfect people. They make mistakes in life. But to lose one, even one who is retired, is a somber reminder of the brevity of life. FireDad was off teaching a fire propane class yesterday. More so than any other time he has left me to teach this class, I feared for his safety. I told myself it was due to the weather, the storms and the wind. I feared for his drive there and for his return trip. I was anxious until he arrived home. I’ve always known the risks he faces with the job that he loves. Sometimes more than others, like now, I am reminded of them and they make me catch my breath. I force myself to remember he is a safe, capable firefighter surrounded by other safe, capable firefighters. I push away the thoughts of Ladder 49 and Backdraft. I imagine he is invincible. I know he is not but it is the only way to shake the nagging fear.

I work on Saturday. I think we’re having someone watch the boys for a few hours so FireDad can attend the viewing, the funeral and the graveside service. FireDad never fought a fire with this man but there is a sense of honor, respect and understanding that without our previous firefighters, our current men and women wouldn’t be where they are today.

We are grateful for the prior service of our late firefighter and we send our best to his family during this difficult time.

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Photo Credit.

Life, Death and Firefighting is a post from Stop, Drop and Blog. Want more of Stop, Drop and Blog? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, contact me or hit me up via twitter.

Firehouse Dog

The movie itself was cute. The story revolves around a superstar dog who falls out of a plane and is believed to have died. He lived, of course, and adopts a failing firehouse as his new home. By helping rescue another firefighter and generally being a great dog, he catches the eyes of the local media. They end up not closing down the firehouse and everyone is happy! Except for the arsonist on the loose. And the dog’s real owner who eventually tracks him down. Drama ensues for the last twenty minutes while you wait and wonder if the firebug will be caught and the dog will get to stay with the right people. Obviously, being a child’s movie, the ending is happy. But there are some moments of tense anxiety!

BigBrother was mostly enthralled by the movie. He sat with his eyes glued to the screen for a majority of the movie. He got bored with any person-to-person conversation that didn’t involve the dog doing something in the background. He didn’t quite care about the conversations between the dad (the Captain of the fire station) and the son (the main character of the movie). But, man, he loved the dog. LittleBrother liked the dog enough but cared even less about conversation. Which is mostly okay because there were a few words and phrases that made me cringe. One, “I suck,” was repeated a few times followed by “suck” over and over. I think I may have coughed. There was no outright cussing but they did use some words that we simply don’t in this house.

The fire scenes were a little intense. They didn’t seem to bother either of the boys and, really, they were absolutely enthralled during the fire scenes. BigBrother, who understood the premise of the movie, didn’t seem overly concerned when the boy was trapped in the burning building. I don’t know if he thought the dog and/or the dad would save him but he didn’t get anxious. (You know, like I did.) Perhaps it’s because they’re so used to the concepts and discussions of fire. I don’t know but, as a warning, there are some tense moments with the fire scenes. As a side warning: the movie also deals with the concept of death though no characters in the movie actively die. The death issues are from the past and involve the child’s mother and uncle.

All in all, fire family movie night was a success. I don’t think we’ll be watching Backdraft with them for a few years (understatement) but it was nice to include a little bit of firefighting in a family evening. I should note that FireDad rolled his eyes many times at the movie but was a good sport about the whole thing. Sometimes that’s what being a family is all about!

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[Disclosure: The movie belongs to the library. The links are through Amazon Associates.]

(Fire) Family Movie Night: Firehouse Dog is a post from Stop, Drop and Blog. Want more of Stop, Drop and Blog? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, contact me or hit me up via twitter.

I suppose it’s kind of like how when you buy a new car and, suddenly, you see that model everywhere. Or, how if you’re trying to get pregnant, you see pregnant women everywhere. Or, just like when you’re on a diet and people keep talking about food. That’s what it’s like to be a firefighter’s wife: the fire department follows you everywhere.

I’ll be eating dinner in a different city with a friend and our conversation will be interrupted by the squeal of a siren. Suddenly, lights flashing, a fire truck will pull up to the sidewalk just outside the window where we are eating. Or, like today, I stopped into my doctor’s office this afternoon because earlier today I forgot to take my insurance card with me. LittleBrother took up a conversation with the receptionist about Daddy being a firefighter. She then let us know that her son is a firefighter outside of Columbus.

Or, like this morning at the same doctor’s office, when I was trying to take pictures of the flowering tree in the parking lot only to realize that despite a focus problem due to a smudge on my lens (the HORROR!), I got some nice fire truck bokeh in the background. Lurking, waiting, always present.

This picture is much like my life. Kind of out of focus because I’m so crazy busy. Full of beauty and life and growth. With the fire life always in the background, part of who I am. Who we are.

Stalked by a Fire Truck is a post from Stop, Drop and Blog. Want more of Stop, Drop and Blog? Like our page on Facebook! If you have questions, contact me or hit me up via twitter.