whatever

I have to say that without an ounce of doubt, I am proud, proud, proud of our boys in blue. I am referring to the tireless police officers who have been watching over the city during the G20 and when some of the craziness that ensued. I have friends and loved ones who are with the force and I was dismayed at how the media chose to skew their coverage against the police. Not once did they show police being spit on, hit, or being hurled at by whatever objects the protesters had on hand. I won't even get into the verbal taunts. So what if the coppers pushed a few anarchists around. So what if said anarchists were held in a prison cage. It was probably still cleaner than the places they've been squatting in. And now the anarchists are crying boo hoo police brutality and that their rights were violated and that we're living in a police state of martial law. Sorry guys.... I guarantee no one has your sympathy. You lost us when the first window was smashed and the first match lit. Get a real job, and have a shower. There are other ways you can make a difference.

G20

I try to stay away from politics on this blog because I fear I might end up ranting for days. But I thought I'd mention the G20 circus only because my husband is gone 16 hours a day now working the thick of it. He says the G20, to put it mildly, is a huge gong show. More of a cluster f*ck really. With federal money being spent like there's no tomorrow and busloads of protesters and police officers being brought in from all corners of the earth it's chaos really. Wish the political dudes could play instruments and sing... at least maybe we could make another Woodstock or something. But alas, businesses within the security perimeter are at a standstill and let's not even get into traffic. Thank goodness I'm off shift this week and can stay in my neck of the woods and really ignore the G20 unless I choose to read the paper or turn on the news. Where we live, we've been practically unaffected by it all.

Until I heard the whirl of chopper blades over my head. Apparently it was the Presidential helicopter in all its glory.


I would have flagged him down and invited him in for tea and introduced him to my kids but I've got laundry to fold and need to wash my hair so maybe next time. It would be cool though if a common person like me could actually sit and talk one on one with the Prez. Oh the things I'd like to ask with my outside voice! ;)

girl power

I normally despise 'forwarded' email messages and delete them without opening but this one I received from one of the most amazing women I know, who has been like a sister/mother/best friend to me. She is not a firefighter but has worked for the fire service for 30 years and is the glue that holds our fleet together. I dedicate today's post to my friend, the Goddess. xo

This is for some of the strongest women I know

You are the kind of woman that when your feet hit the ground each morning, the devil says, "OH SHIT, SHE'S UP"!


LOVE YOU, GIRLFRIEND!!!!!


NOW YOU RE ON THE CLOCK!!!!

Make every day count girls. We know who really rules the world and keeps the peace.

note to self...

...no matter how much in a rush one might be, always, always take the time to make sure you've packed the proper gym attire. I did not and realized all I had were my fave cargo pants that my husband bought for me so I rolled them up and decided to do my workout plan of heavy lift day of front squats.

Bad idea.

Halfway through my workout I literally lost the seat of my pants. A half dozen heads jerked in my direction upon hearing the loud rip. Nonchalantly, I finished my sets even though I was mortified. Thank goodness no one was directly behind me or they would have injured themselves busting a gut laughing. Oh well... it's all in the name of a killer squat. Thank goodness I was wearing my oh-so-modest granny underpants and not a thong.

puh-lease... enough already

Sigh, I'm not sure if it's because the guys at work regard me as just 'one of the boys' but the locker room banter is starting to get on my nerves. There is only so much I can take when it comes to hearing about their female conquests and what they woulda/coulda/shoulda done with her. And they refer to the 'hers' as if they were a piece of meatloaf. Oddly enough, it's not the young guys who talk like this... it's the guys who are the seniors nearing retirement and it creeps me out. One guy who I actually really respect as a firefighter has gone as far as calling me a 'groundsheet', 'babe' and 'hot' thinking it was funny. Totally pissed me off and I told him so. I guess this is one of the downfalls of being a female firefighter... no matter how much the guys treat me as one, I'm really not one of the guys, nor will I ever completely be. I'm not a prude but there are days I just want to plug my ears and scream 'la la la la la.... I can't hear you!'. A few years ago at one particular fire station the guys were a bit piggish and started putting up scantily clad photos of pin-up girls all over the common areas of the fire station. So while they were down for some shut-eye in the middle of the night I swapped them for poster sized photos of some serious hunky chiseled dudes... ha ha... when they woke and saw the posters they seemed to walk a few inches shorter. Immature I know but made me feel better anyway. Besides... I'm entitled to some eye candy too. ;)

trouble in paradise

Well, last shift there wasn't a lot of love going around. We were all bickering like an old married couple and I was praying for a huge fire to get us out of the station.

You see, our resident chef decided to go on strike. Seems like he was feeling under appreciated for all the meals he's been cooking.

I don't blame him really even if he can be a kitchen nazi at times (do not ever ever add or alter something to his creations... you will lose your knuckles!). He plans all the meals, makes sure they're healthy and keeps it at a five dollar price point. Some of the guys have been bailing at the last minute and getting Subway Subs or Harvey's. Which means he gets stuck with all the leftover food and then we have to absorb the rest of the cost. Even though I don't blame the chef, I was irked last shift because I was STARVING and looking forward to a great meal and felt like I was being punished even though I have eaten and partaken in every meal without fail. But he said that he couldn't play favourites and had to prove his point this way. We all ended up managing our own meals but it was touch and go for awhile. Hungry troops are not happy people.

I bet you he was feeling like an under appreciated wife. Maybe for tomorrow's shift I will bring him a bouquet of flowers or something to smooth things over. Or at least get him an apron that says "Kiss the Cook".

I know squat

And again the Coach has a quote that totally cracks me up and totally rings true at the same time:

The full squat is a perfectly natural position for the leg to occupy. That’s why there’s a joint in the middle of it, and why humans have been occupying this position, both unloaded and loaded, for millions of years. Much longer, in fact, than quasi-intellectual morons have been telling us that it’s “bad” for the knees.
— Coach Mark Rippetoe


The squat (and all its variations), is my all time favourite workout excercise. In fact, my babies were home-born whilst I was in the squat position. OK... waaaaay too much information. I'll stop right here. ;)

it's all in the head

I stumbled across this quote by Rosa Parks that I love, love, love:

I have learned over the years that when one's mind is made up, this diminishes fear; knowing what must be done does away with fear.

Although I have certainly been afraid, I don't think I have felt true fear at work where my blood stops cold and I'm unable to move. I have, however, been in situations where the 'holy sh*t' pucker factor came into play. I have experienced that fight or flight response where my body just kicks into high gear and does what it has to do to get me through a call and time moves at warp speed but also stands still. Coming off the high of adrenaline rushes, I have had the shakes so bad in my arms and legs that I could barely drive the truck back to the station. The jolt of the alarm bells waking me in the middle of the night would leave me slightly nauseated because my body would be in shock from sleep state to warp speed emergency mode. And I didn't sleep for three nights straight after a particularly sad and devastating call. I think I was more affected by my work in my rookie years simply because my body and my brain were figuring out how to adapt to these new situations. As I gained more experience over the years, what used to shake me up doesn't make me blink twice these days. The human mind and body are amazing... put them into states of duress and they will find a way to get stronger. Where my initial years were about proving myself outwardly (as in trying to prove to everyone that I was good enough, strong enough... that I belonged), these days it's about improving myself inwardly (through self-reflection and self-actualization). It's nice getting to that place of knowing.... knowing who I am and just allowing me to be exactly what I am in this moment and not being so hard on myself when I think I'm coming up short. It's so simple and true... the biggest fears and challenges are in fact all in our heads... once we realize that there is no monster under the bed, we can set the bar a little higher each day.

feminist?

I was at a call this morning and a bystander in the crowd congratulated me for being a feminist. Perhaps this gentleman was paying me a compliment but to be honest I was taken aback.

I've never thought of myself as a feminist. I've never thought that by being a female firefighter I was different or making a social commentary. I became a firefighter because it's what I love and everything that I've ever wanted in a career. I didn't take this job to prove a point.... I simply wanted this job because that little whisper of a voice inside me started to shout and tell me that I can do this because it's what I was made to do. And there wasn't any doubt that I could do it well, female or not. There are days at work that I forget that I am a woman, because the lines have blurred with familiarity and I'm just another one of the hundreds of firefighters on the department.

I've always associated feminists as the long-haired-placard-waving-hippy Gloria Steinam types of the '70's who fought for equality and causes they believed in. Me, I've always just flown by the seat of my pants doing what my heart told me to do along the way without thinking things through too much and as a result forged my own path.

So I'm not sure if I would define myself as a feminist in the traditional sense. But as a child growing up in the seventies, maybe I did pick up on the 'movement' subconsciously because I never thought that there wasn't anything I couldn't do based on my race or gender. And because of these women I have reason to give thanks for being able to hold down the job that I have and raise a family at the same time. And for not having to make a choice between the two. Or being criticized for making the choice. And getting paid exactly the same as the guy sitting next to me on the truck. And I should also give thanks that my beautiful, wide-eyed daughter will have the opportunity to make the same choices and be anything that she wants to be without anyone or anything holding her back and grow to be that fearless warrior that each and every woman has inside of her. xo

ice cream remedy

I have yet to figure out if my relationship with my crew is more akin to roommates or old married couples minus the sex. Just by constantly working and being together, we get to know each other quite well, in a bickery, intimate way. I don't know if it's the humidity but we've all been a bit grumpy with one another. Every call we had seemed to be the farthest from where we happened to be and traffic for some reason had no clue that when a fire engine is coming down the street lights and sirens you must PULL OVER AND STOP. PLEASE!!! That and the fact that we ran 5 calls after 11 pm didn't help.... especially since they were to the same place and all false alarms. I dragged my poor arse home trying not to fall asleep at the wheel.... and I slept my day off away..... from 9 am to 2:30 pm!

We all have our quirks and our moods and our idiosyncracies. Some days what one might find utterly charming, the next day it might be completely annoying. I can be abnormally sensitive to my crewmates moods. The guys know this and if I can't remedy the situation with a smile or a hug, then after the next call, while the truck is out, I'll make a stop for a huge tub of cherries jubilee ice cream. That and a big pot of coffee and us enjoying a break and some conversation gets us back to our cheerful selves in no time.

We had a big rain last night so things have cooled off, and hopefully some of the tempers..... We're back on shift tomorrow. Maybe I'll bring in a tub or two of ice cream for extra insurance. xo

so fun I can hardly sleep!

Holy smoke. Took a couple of days to come down off the high. Last shift was insane. We had not one but two fires. :) The first fire was a pot on the stove so one crewmate might win firefigter of the year for grabbing the pot and running outdoors with it. ;) After ventilating, and placing a smoke alarm in their home (folks..... PLEASE make sure you have working smoke alarms and CO detectors), the call was done. In the evening we had a 2 alarm fire and I felt like I was in a movie. I was driving the ladder truck and had the pedal to the floor. On the radio I could hear that there was one severely burned person at the front of the house and someone else in distress from a knife wound. Then I heard a firefighter yell 'everybody out!'. I thought maybe the floors had collapsed. Turns out it was a home invasion. Upon arrival, Command asked us to suit up and stand on deck to make entry. When I jumped out of the truck I saw the SWAT team running down the street a la Flashpoint. We were at a working crime scene and there were coppers everywhere. We were at the call for a few hours and when it was time to go we were jammed in because of all the vehicles and bystanders. It was impossible to turn a 40 foot ladder truck around so I had to back up the beast something like 5 blocks in the dark. Took forever but didn't hit anything and my Captain was all smiles. There was money on whether I could do it or not.... it was pretty tight. The toughest part was not being able to set up for the next turn because there's no rearview mirror in the truck and so I had to rely on my crewmate to be my 'eyes'. It was total teamwork and trust. The irony is that by the time we got back to the hall, it took me two tries to back the truck into the bay and I told my crew with a laugh that I had used all my magic backing up powers and there was none left. I was soaked with sweat down to my skivvies but still gave my crewmate a huge hug. I LOVE MY STINKING JOB!!! Can't remember the last time I had this much fun!

Can't wait to see what tomorrow's shift will bring!

rare

It's rare that I end up in a photo with my children, only because I am the one usually taking the pictures. So for posterity's sake, here's one of me and the kids at our favourite outdoor Indian restaurant. Food is delicously spicy and hot. The kids aren't able to eat much but love the mango kulfis and it keeps them busy long enough to sit still so that we can finish our meal.

truck maintenance

We're in the middle of truck maintenance this week. This is where we inventory each and every piece of equipment on board (one day I'll list every item but it is literally dozens of pages long and would take me and hour to type), and wash and lube, wax or whatever needs to be done. No one really likes to do this chore because it's so labour intensive but many hands make light work so once we all get into the groove it's not so bad and we end up with a clean equipment and truck that looks shiny new. And then we sit and wait for a good call to get it all nice and dirty again. ;)

J and M

Weekends are crazy town in our household.....
Maiya has turned into a bit of a holy terror (not unlike her mum... lol) and is quick to tell you what she wants or doesn't want. She holds her own against the older kids and of course her big brother. I have had to break up many a fight. She climbs, she jumps, she flies. And does she ever have a set of lungs. We've been going non stop all day but my husband did capture 30 seconds of peace..... right before they both conked out for a long nap.

Thank God.

my little dude

need I say more? xo

nature of fire

Feeling slightly ill today. Took in a bit of smoke at a call last night. The fire was teeny tiny (electrical fire) but produced a ton of thick acrid smoke. We were all coughing and gagging a bit. The plastic coating on the wires was the culprit. Unfortunately, these days housefires no longer smell like campfires because the combustibles are all plastic now. Which makes it far more dangerous for everyone because the smoke and fumes are so toxic. Fires are now burning hotter than ever with the petroleum by-product, and flashovers and backdrafts are an even greater threat than ever before. I have been in a house fire where there was a rollover that thankfully did not develop into a flashover. Although I've been to post-explosion fires, I have not witnessed a backdraft and hope to never come across one apart from what I've seen in training videos. And in the videos the house looks like it is an alive being, huffing and puffing and breathing angrily which is one of the first warning signs of backdraft (along with greyish, yellowish smoke). So I guess in the scheme of things a bit of smoke in the lungs is nothing.

Again, another one of those posts where there is no real beginning or end. The warm summer-like weather has me frolicking outside with the kids rather than wanting to be tied to the computer. But I'll try to make a point of blogging to at least capture this amazing time I've been having with both my real life and fire families.... xo

boy bits

This morning as Jacob was getting dressed, Maiya spotted Jacob's boy bits and pointed to them.... and asked "what is that?' I told her using the correct anatomical terms and then she said 'whoa!' very matter of factly. And then she toddled off to play and do whatever 18 month olds do.

The things that come out of the mouths of babes. ;)

firefighters have curves

I often get asked why I chose to become a firefighter when there are a plethora of jobs that are deemed more 'suitable' for a woman. The simple answer would be that I'm made for this job. I have the genetics that make me strong giving me the advantage of height and heft, I understand the physics of fire and have a knack for hydraulics and the mechanics of operating different types of fire trucks. I love working with the public and crews. You don't need to be a man to do these things well. But having said all this, there are some inherent challenges to being a female firefighter and living life in the firefighting culture:

No matter how new or how much seniority you have, as a female firefighter, you are always being watched and judged. You will often be questioned about your ability, either by your colleagues or by the public. Because females make up 2% of the firefighting population, we stick out like a sore thumb and as such, we are not able to fade in the crowd. Everyone knows your name and this isn't always a good thing. If there isn't a rumour about you already, one will be made up. Any mistake made is magnified ten times over. All the female firefighters I know have very thick skins. I wear mine like a badge of honour. Thank God I have a sense of humour and never really give a rats ass what people think of me on or off the job.

A guy can go with his crew off shift and party and act like a dumbass and no one will blink an eye. Should a female firefighter do the same, her actions may haunt her for the rest of her career. There is that fine line between friendliness and flirtation. And while you want to be friendly and easy-going with the guys you work with, taking things a step further isn't the wisest choice. Things are usually fine until the big breakup then camps get divided. And the guys will remember you for who you dated rather than the great work you do on the job. The saying never sh*t where you eat applies here. As much as I would love to socialize with the guys off the job, if it's at an event where there is tons of booze being consumed, I tend to pass. Once I saw a captain who was so wasted he stripped down to his tighty whities. To this day I have a hard time taking him seriously, let alone am I able to look him straight in the eye. The image of him dancing on a table in skivvieis enough to send me to therapy.

The physical demands of the job are demanding. On everyone. Male or female. Firefighting is tough and not gentle on the body. For the women, add a pregnancy or two, the body doesn't get much of a chance to rest. After some days on the job, I crawl back home bone tired only to continue with my work running a household. This I suspect will not get any easier as I age. I do not look forward to menopause. The day I fear breaking a hip dismounting from the firetruck is the day I hang up my helmet. But as bad menopause might be for the gals, it might be far worse for the guys while we unleash on them as we go through it. Or fight to lower the station thermostat. Dudes, payback is a bitch. lol

Even if I won the lottery, I would still go into work because I love the chaos, the dirt, and the unknown that comes with the territory. And there is no other place apart from my own little family, that I feel as needed, loved and respected in spite of the ups and downs. Female or not, firefighting is my dream job. And while I may never be the greatest, the strongest nor the best, I am darn good at what I do. And that's all that really matters at the end of the day... and to be able to include myself in this band of brothers. xo

just plain crazy

My husband and I have been house hunting. Although we adore our loft, we figure we might as well get serious about finding a house since at some point we will need to move to get within walking distance of Jacob's school. And it would be nice to have a backyard so I can let the kids loose. And a BBQ would be stupendous since that is the only way my husband knows how to cook.
I think moving in general is a pain in the arse but not looking for a house would be just delaying the inevitable.

But I've been completely out of touch.

Back when the loft was purchased eleven years ago, housing prices were normal and reasonable. The seller listed a price, and you bought it. Perhaps for a little less than asking, or perhaps you paid the asking price. In any event, the deal seemed pretty fair. Nowadays there is this thing called the bidding war and frankly, I think it's a bit of a scam and I have absolutely no time for it. I wish buyers would start thinking a bit more logically. A lane house (as in, a house built on a laneway and it has no parking and no backyard!) just sold for $950, 000 in our neighbourhood. Even with the low interest rates it's a bit nuts.

We've been looking for a gut job so we can design the house of our dreams. We figured if we found an old dump we could invest funds into rebuilding. The perfect house came up right in the neighbourhood we wanted. The house hasn't been lived in for years and was basically condemned and raccoons had taken over. But at $329, 000 we loved the price and would bring us well within budget with reno costs. Except that of course this house went into a bidding war and sold for $460,500 and it needs at least $250,000 worth or reno work. We weren't too disappointed but holy crap.... does money grow on trees for some people? Have people lost their brains? We're gonna stay put in our loft for now... because who needs debt? And we realize that you don't need a house to have a home. And we can be happy living anywhere, especially when our necks don't belong to the bank.

aye aye mon capitaine

During the course of my career, I have had a total of nine different fire captains. Sounds like a lot but it's not really. In the first six months each rookie is assessed by two different captains. If it's a one truck hall, you report to one captain, and if there are two or more trucks, you report to your assigned captain but really, you report to the other captains as well since you can interchange trucks and crews on any given day. You might get a new captain if they retire or get promoted, or if you get assigned to a new station, or get moved to another shift. There are some great captains. And there are also some good and not so good ones. The great ones are the ones who not only have the fire ground experience, but more importantly have the people skills and lead by example. The good ones are the ones with less experience and are wise enough to rely on the talent of their crew when they are unsure in their decision making. The bad ones are the ones who, because they have a few extra stripes on their shoulders, are quick to boss around those who don't, and micro manage or belittle to get their point across. Fortunately, they rarely get away with that kind of behaviour for long. Because for every one captain, there are four firefighters and four firefighters sticking together can pull a mutiny when necessary. And sometimes, no matter how amazing a captain is, try as you might, things may not click simply because of lack of chemistry.

I have had all three types of captains.... the great, the good, and the not so good. Of course I would always prefer to have a great captain, but the thing is, no matter what type of captain, you can still learn a lot: you learn how to be or not to be, how to rely on yourself and your crew if you can't rely on your captain and you learn to pick your fights or when to let things slide. And most of all, you learn that no matter who your leadership is, you are still who you are and nobody can take that away from you.

I am eligible to write my acting captain's exam next year. And I am still deciding whether or not I am captain material or if I even want to be in that position of being somewhat apart from the crew simply by being their superior. I've never like playing the boss. (Well, except when it comes to the household.. ha ha). Part of me is excited by the prospect of challenging myself and facing my own fears and stepping everything up a notch but the other part of me is not sure if I can dedicate 6 months to study for the exam while I am raising two young children. And if promoted, I will have to switch to another crew and perhaps even another shift. And this would be a bit devastating because I have never been happier with the the crew that I have. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. I will probably give it a shot. The worst thing that happens is that I learn a thing or two along the way by studying. And the best thing is that no matter what, promoted or not, I will still remain a firefighter which is, and for me will always be, the best gig in the world. :)