Still here.

I cannot believe how much I have missed posting but in my quest and journey towards being a fire captain I have had to make some tough choices on how to manage my time. In addition to life as a mom, and a full time firefighter, I have had to study 3 to 8 hours a day. Weekends I might catch an hour here or there when the kids are down for a nap. I study standing in line at the grocery store, run through the command functions in my head at the gym, and wake up muttering initial fire reports. I don't get to banter as much with the guys at work anymore because my head is buried in books, books, books. They make fun of me of course, but they understand. And they have been so supportive in helping me out anyway they can. I cannot believe how intense the past 6 months have been and how few meltdowns I have actually had considering the pace I have been running. Since mid- October, I have managed to cram over three thousand pages of information between my ears. In less than two weeks I write my exam and in three I do the fire simulator in front of a panel of district chiefs. I've decided that the way I am going to keep myself calm is to picture them in black socks and underwear. My District Chief laughs at me when I tell him how crazy it has gotten, how I can remember the most minute of details buried in a policy or bylaw. He relates. He feels my pain. He's been there. It is a right of passage. Out of the 90 candidates that originally chose to participate in the promotional process, 70 remain. Some have dropped out because of the pressure, some because of time constraints, and others because they realize that it's not a position they want. It's a position that I want though. But with only 10 positions open at this time, the competition is going to be fierce. Surprisingly I feel pretty calm about it all. I have studied all that I can study, and have given it all that I can. I am fortunate that my husband has been so supportive, along with my fire crew. My Captain lets me ride in his position and take all the calls as Incident Commander so that I can take what I've learned in theory and solidify it in my body as I do it for real. If I thought firefighting on the physical level was tough, firefighting as a Captain, is so much harder. There is more pressure, more work on the cerebral level, being the eyes and ears at a call, and completely responsible for the health and safety for each and every person at that incident who has put their trust in you to make the right call.

Promotion or no promotion, it's been a win win situation. The worst that happens is that I am exactly where I am... with a crew that I love and respect. But really, I am not exactly where I am, I am so much more enriched than before I started this process. I cannot tell you how happy I have been the past six months preparing for this exam. My confidence as a firefighter has grown as well as my respect and appreciation for those who surround me. I never understood until now how finely tuned and orchestrated an emergency scene is. It's not a bunch of guys running around with axes and hoses. There is a method and procedure that is like a dance. And to me, the power of a fire scene will always remain pure magic.

Wish me luck! xo I will keep you posted on how it goes.

life

Not sure how to even begin this post. It's one of those days where I struggle to find words that fit the feelings that I am experiencing or any emergency services worker might experience. You can run fifty calls that won't phase you and all of a sudden one type of call might haunt you for days and when you are alone and shut your eyes at night all you can see are the bad images that have been permanently etched into your brain. And this image remains sharp and as fresh as the first time until you find a way to bury it deep in the back of your head, hoping it won't resurface anytime soon. For me, the albatross I carry around my neck are the calls where people have chosen to take their own life. The other night we had such a call. And as tough as I'd like to think I am, this call was hard for me. I found myself carying the burden of the dead, getting too close emotionally trying to piece the puzzle of this person's life together and the circumstances which led to his choice and the way in which he was found was horrific. And it haunts me still. This is the type of call where in the middle of the night, when I have been tossing and turning and thinking too much, I tiptoe into my childrens' room and crawl into bed to sleep next to them. Because the only thing that can console me in those moments is having my children remind me of the most beautiful things in life. And I silently promise them that I will do everything within my power to give them a life full of joy, comfort and security so that they may never feel alone. And pray that no one ever has to feel the kind of pain that young man must have been experiencing the night we found him.

the last pound

I find it somewhat ironic that I cannot break the 150 mark. 150 pound mark that is.

You see, for some reason I have it in my head that 150 pounds is the perfect weight for me. The guys at work watch me eat with astonishment at how much I can throw back in my gullet. I have won the title as the official ice cream moocher because any leftover ice cream in the freezer from other shifts is fair game at snack time in my books. I gorged during the holiday season on blue cheese, and fruitcake and wine oh my, and could only tip the scales at 149. Not bad considering when I was nursing a ravenous Maiya I was a mere 136. That dear child sucked the life out of me. People think I am nuts for wanting to put on weight when at this time of year everyone is trying to shed it. Not me. I want to look like an amazon. I want that extra sinewy heft behind me.... the extra weight and muscle serves me well when it comes to hauling around equipment and I don't fly around like a rag doll at the end of a charged hose line. If only I could pick where the pounds went on my body. Like my boobs and bottom for instance would be nice. But alas, beggars can't be choosers. On that note.... I'm gonna find me a bedtime snack.

kajillionaire

Someone in my city just recently won 50 million dollars. As much as I think it would be neat to win the lottery, I find it hard to wrap my head around that enormous amount of cash. My husband thinks it would be amazing to win. But me, I'm not so sure. I think that amount would change who we are and the relationship we have with each other. Even though my husband loves his job, he would quit for sure. Me? I couldn't fathom quitting my job because it would be like cutting off an arm. The work I do as a firefighter is so fulfilling that I think I would feel lost without this purpose and drive. I love being a working person, making a life and living for my little family. It would certainly change the relationship with people around us. I can't imagine the people who would come out of the woodwork to get a piece of the pie. And at work, I think I would definitely be treated differently. And why would I want that when I've worked all these years to fit in?

I would worry that my children would turn into self-entitled Paris Hiltons. I shudder at the thought. But honestly, our lives are pretty happy and comfortable just as things are right now.

That being said, I do get in with the guys at work to buy tickets. 50 million divided by 10 crew mates would be fun, and still keep us all honest. The guys close enough to retirement could do so early, and people like me, well, sure a bigger home would be nice or a no-holds barred vacation once a year. And a bit of money to put aside for the kids' college fund. Oh, and a pair of Prada shoes might be nice as well. ;)

ciao 2010

It's hard to believe another year has flown by. I still can't wrap my head around how quickly time goes. It's been exactly one year since I have been back after my second maternity leave and I have to say, I am more enthusiastic about my job than I have ever been. I find it quite amusing that my very first shift as a firefighter was on Christmas day (first call ever was an elevator rescue) and my very first shift back from mat leave was New Year's Eve (peeling drunks off the floor). As most of you know, I LOVE working during the holidays because there is that vibe of anticipation of emergencies that seem to mark these days. As I sit and type, I can hear the fire engines from the station near our home race by and there is a part of me that wishes I was on the trucks tonight. But alas, I just finished shift this morning and they don't let you work 48 hours straight. ;)

The best thing about work is going to work. And the best thing about work is coming back home. I love walking in seeing my children still in their pj's and tousled hair. I love seeing their faces light up while saying 'mama!' as they run towards my outstretched arms. I don't know if it is them or me who runs into each other the fastest. Maiya is at the age now where she 'gets it'. She doesn't always want to listen to what I have to say but at least she can understand my point of view. She continues to be fearless and independent, strong willed and silly at the same time. Jacob is the peacekeeper, the thinker, the gentle, sensitive being. Jacob captured my heart, Maiya healed my soul. They have made me look at myself and the world in a whole new way.

This decade has been incredible. And a somewhat modern fairytale... I met my husband, became a firefighter, had two babies, and finally started seeing the forest for the trees. Being a firefighting mother has sped my life up to warp speed yet at the same time has helped me to slow down in the best of ways. I no longer feel like I have to push my body to the limit, but rather believe in its strength. I no longer worry about what is around the corner but enjoy what I have now. And I have stopped giving a rat's ass what people think of me because it's only how I feel about myself that really matters along with honouring my family and children. It's been a journey of self-discovery, and certainly not an easy path, but it's been deep and fulfilling nonetheless.

I won't be ringing in the new year only because my eyelids feel like they weigh a ton and I don't imagine I will be able to stay awake till then. But I wanted to wish everyone the best of all good things that are to come.

From my family to yours, may 2011 be full of happiness and growth, peace, health and love. It is my wish that life keeps on getting better and better xo

love

For someone who has always had an uneasy feeling around Christmastime (and who has been dubbed this year as the official Scrooge at work), I was pleasantly surprised to have one of the best Christmases I recall. It was lovely watching Jacob and Maiya open their presents, believing as children do that Santa and his reindeer came to make their special delivery and eat the milk and cookies and carrots for them. And amazing watching my normally sibling rivaled children play quietly together for hours and then visiting extended family later in the afternoon. It was fun playing out in the snow. But my favourite gift, apart from my children's smiles, was opening my inbox and finding a beautifully written email from a friend who moved to Hong Kong about a year ago. I miss her dearly and thinking of her made me remember what this holiday is all about.... it's about connecting with people you love....even if it is only via a few cyberspace paragraphs. So this Christmas is for you Jo, and for all the people I love that I can't be with, either because of proximity or because they are no longer part of this realm.... Happiest of holidays. xoxoxo

Grinchy

There's always something about this time of year that makes me a bit Grinchy. Perhaps it's the incessant Muzak Christmas carols that play at every store you walk into. Perhaps it's because people look stressed out all the time from the shopping. Perhaps it's because everyone seems to be driving like maniacs... and I don't even want to think about the drunk drivers that may be out there after imbibing too much spiked eggnog. Perhaps because there are moments when I feel utterly hopeless about the fact that in a country as great as ours there are children who go hungry everyday and a little piece of my heart breaks if I think about this too much. I detest the overconsumption, the consumerism, the craziness of Chistmas. Up to the moment I had children, I always took the Chistmas shift because the firehouse is my haven, a place without the pressure of the holidays, where you can break bread without having to wear that horrible sweater aunt so-and-so gave you. And where maybe you can help someone in their time of need. Half the time the calls we get at Chistmas are from people who are alone or just lonely. These are the people I want to be with because I feel like they need me the most.

Despite my bah-humbugness, I do believe that there is something magical about this time of year... I get to reflect on the amazing things that have come into my life which I am so grateful for and sometimes I wonder what a girl like me ever did to deserve two beautiful children and an incredibly supportive husband. I am grateful for my firefighting family who always has my back and are like blood brothers to me. I am grateful for the sense of community they give me, the feeling of safety and security and the bond of friendship that comes through doing what we do for a living.

Perhaps this is why I personally don't need Christmas. It's here everyday when I see my little family and everyday I step into work.

Peace and love. xo

I know, I know.....

.... it's been EONS since I've posted. No excuse really apart from the fact I have my nose buried in the books studying for this Acting Captain's exam. Only four more months of this and I will have a semblance of normalcy back in my life. Every spare minute I have I dive into my textbooks and my notes. I can honestly say I have read over 3500 pages of material. Reading it I find easy. Assimilating it into my brain is a different thing. I think one of the reasons I haven't been blogging is that I am afraid that if I let my creative juices flow, I will lose all the fire facts, functions of command and all the policies and procedures I currently have crammed in my head and trying trying to desperately keep from falling out of my ears. So please forgive me in advance if I don't get on here much between now and E day. This mommy brain is definitely overloaded. All I can say is thank goodness I love, love, love the material I am learning. No way would I engage months of my life into this otherwise.

very late

Nope, not pregnant. (thank goodness!)


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Finally getting around to posting a Hallowe'en picture.


It was a ton of fun apart from Maiya's initial meltdown when she didn't want to wear her wings.


Jacob was thrilled to be Bob the Builder again and Maiya, once she got her wings off was happy to just romp through the neighbourhood. Nothing much more to say except that I am grateful for the neighbours that gave out stickers, crayons, playdough and little toys instead of candy. Thankfully Jacob was happy to give most of his candy away to the share with the 'firemen' at work and Maiya forgot about her stash altogether.

birthday

It was my daughter's birthday this weekend and while I expected to be a bit sad at the fact that she is growing up so quickly, I am actually quite excited by the fact that she is two! Except for the fact she has started her wicked tantrums. Jacob's only lasted a few months when he was that age so I am hoping her terrible two's won't last too long. It's all par for the course I suppose.... being part of children's developmental stage. But still, when she starts freaking out over something seemingly mundane I just want it to head for the hills. I have found out the best thing with Maiya is to just walk away to another room. And she sorts herself out within a few minutes. I find it interesting that when Jacob was that age I had to coddle and cajole to calm him down but Maiya just wants her space to be left alone. Kind of like me when I get upset.

I find it interesting how my children, apart from one being a boy and the other being a girl, are so inherently different in personalities. Jacob is the gentle, sensitive old soul, who sees things well beyond his years. Maiya is the willful, independent child and she keeps me on my toes. Where Jacob is the hope for the future, Maiya is the one who heals my past. I understand my mother a bit better now, in the decisions she made in raising me.... sometimes only being able to make a decision out of necessity instead of choice. I finally understand a mother's pain, sadness, and let's not forget fatigue. It scares me sometimes that I will never be able to completely protect them from broken hearts and life's disappointments. But as a mother, there is also that oh so pure, unadulterated joy....like when my son first looked into my eyes when he was born, and when I giggle when my daughter is up to her impish antics because she reminds me of me.

I won't lie. It hasn't been easy balancing life with a career and children. And there are days when I pine for my single days. But every mother out there can attest to the fact that life would certainly not be as rich and colourful without our children. Because like I said, they are the hope for the future, and they heal our past.

xo

just gross

I'm not a person who gets grossed out easily. I can deal with death in every shape (or mishape) and form, blood, guts, vomit, poop, you name it. I might flinch a little on the inside but generally I can hold my own and very little will phase me. The other day at work however, I nearly ran away screaming when I saw this:
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It was my crew mate's breakfast. Oatmeal with peanut m&m's mixed in. G-R-OSS.

in charge

Well, ran my first call and Incident Commander..... lol. Now it's not as 'official' as it sounds. What happened was that we had a rush of calls that weren't too serious in nature so my Captain, on the way to a grassfire said 'Here's the radio, you're in charge and get to it'. So I did. :)

I took command and hit the appropriate benchmarks and when all was said and done, terminated command. Only stuttered maybe once or twice. I think the most nerve wracking thing was talking into that blasted radio. I've done it a million times as a driver but it's different when you're at the helm and dispatch is hanging onto every word. Also knowing that my colleagues and any member of the public with a scanner can listen in on the call gave me a bit of stage fright. But my crewmates were really supportive and I'm just happy that my Captain gave me the opportunity to practice taking command. Just like becoming a firefighter, becoming an officer doesn't happen overnight. It takes time, experience and a support network of great mentors. I realized one thing at this call as an 'officer' that it's really hard to step back and just take charge of the call without doing the grunt work. I kept wanting to jump in to hit the hydrant, pull the hose, grab a shovel. But I didn't because it's impossible to oversee the entire situation that way. It made me realize how different that position is and that if I ever do get to that point of sitting in the front seat, how much I will miss being a 'boot'. But in the meantime, it's nice to have a taste of 'the other side'..... gives me whole lot of respect for the Captains who keep us safe at calls. Especially at those calls where everything seems to be blowing up simultaneously.

poor, poor trees

Well, there you have it:

...the stuff that beckons me from my kitchen counter. And what my head has been wrapped around for the past few weeks and will continue to do so for the next five months. Apart from knowing the material cold and practically verbatim, I think the toughest part of the process has been trying to gather all the material. You see, they only provide you initially with a reading list. They'll give us a disc in a month with a lot of the info we need to learn but I need the head start... besides, I'm not one of those people who learns well off a computer screen. I like my highlighters! So I bought textbooks and photocopied a kajillion policies on a whole lotta paper. Poor poor trees. Now that I have gathered my little library of study material I feel a lot better... kind of like having a security blanket. So now when I wake up in the middle of the night with a nagging question about flammable liquids and containment, I can look it up right away in the Fire Code and go back to bed in sweet slumber. Yup... I'm sounding lime a total nerd but believe it or not, I am actually really enjoying the material and learning. My biggest challenge is finding the time. I'm doing as much as I can on shift between calls because when the kids are home of course they want my undivided attention. Speaking of which, here are my tired babes last night:

It was pretty cute how Jacob was stroking his sister's hair. I was actually surprised how patient he is with her.... she tends to really push his buttons always trying to get her way and grabbing his toys from him. I'd love to claim that he got his patience from me but nope.... I think he was just born an old, old, soul. xo

animals

In general, I like pets... I've had 3 labrador retrievers of my own. But at work, the only 'animal' I like is my colleague who can rip a door off its hinges when he's making light work of forcible entry into a building. Tough, strong guys like that are worth their weight in gold as a crewmate. Other than that, animal, and work, and me, don't mix.

Yesterday's shift we had an alarm. There was smoke coming out of the townhouse when we pulled up. So we took a hydrant, charged the line and made a forcible entry since the owners weren't home. Because I was the first one to cross the threshold, you can imagine my surprise when there was a dog baring its teeth at me. Now I don't blame the dog really, because I was entering his home looking like the Michelin man and sounding like Darth Vader with my breathing apparatus on. But his growling did freak me out and I just prayed he wasn't going to bite me. I was convinced that even with my bunker gear on, the dog's fangs were going to pierce through to my skin.... or worse, go straight for my jugular. All I knew was that I had to get past this darn dog to get to the real safety issue at hand... the fire of course. So with bated breath, I dove in, grabbed the dog and handed him to the firefighter behind me who brought the dog out to safety. Now before you sign me up for firefighter of the year, said dog looked like this:
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I guess I'm not as tough as I thought. But at least I was braver this time than when I once came across an aquarium full of snakes! In that moment there was no shame in screaming like a girl. ;)

busy!

After my kids and my job, studying for this exam has taken up every spare moment of my time. So blogging unfortunately has been suffering a bit. So when I can't think of anything interesting to post about, a picture always comes in handy:


Jacob is ready to take the training wheels off but because we live downtown it's a bit too much of a hazard right now with all those crazy drivers. Maiya is starting to get the hang of riding her tricycle. Bear in mind she's not two yet and doesn't quite understand the rules of the road. It's always a bit of an adventure navigating with her.

On the work front, we're welcoming a new crew member tomorrow. He's not new, new but he's been off with a back injury for awhile so I am sure he is excited to be back. It'll be neat to see how the dynamic changes going from 9 people in the station to 10!

ok..... breakfast then gotta hit the books for an hour or two.

xo

el stinko

It was biological warfare at the firehouse yesterday.

I don't know what the rookie put in our lunch. Although tasty and delicious... it left all of us with some seriously dangerous gas emissions to the point where we couldn't be in the same room with each other. Heaven forbid if anyone was stupid enough to light a match because the place would have rocked off its foundation. I wanted to don our Level A fully encapsulated hazmat suit because I literally couldn't breathe. One guy dutch ovened himself. That was pretty funny.

I never realized how loud people can toot. And in so many different octaves. Yep.... we're so mature.

Life at the firehouse at its best.

humbled

I woke up this morning and I was humbled by my body. I'd love to say I was in awe of what looked back at me in the mirror and that I had my 20 year old body attached to my 40 year old head but nope... no such luck.

You see, there isn't a day that I wake up where I don't feel any pain:

There's the pain of having to pry my eyelids open to wake up when I just want an extra hour of sleep. Being a mother doesn't help and being a firefighter compounds the problem of sleep deprivation. Is it worse to say I'd rather be woken up by a fire call than my kids jumping on me in the morning begging to eat sugary cereal in front of the tv?

There's also the physical pain. This is the first year where I really feel the weight of my gear. I think part of the problem is that we have new airpacks and they don't fit me properly. I'm going to have to investigate further into this when I'm back on shift to see if it can be adjusted to fit my torso. There's not a day where my back, neck, hips, or knee doesn't hurt... I even have a bunion that is beginning to throb.. and on bad days everything hurts at the same time. Ibuprofen has become my good friend. I see the older guys on the job and I understand and feel for them because I am becoming one of them. I also see the look of the smug rookies as they bound up the stairs. Ha ha I say to myself... just give it ten years and you'll be feeling the same way I do. But I can return the smug look when I beat them to the top of the stairs carrying twice the amount of gear . :) And in that glorious moment.... every moment of pain shooting through my body and lungs is worth it.

fire

Like a Phoenix rising, there is a part of me that is reborn every time I fight a fire. I am not sure why, but the smell of fire gives me energy, as does the roar of the flames and the sound of my blood as it pounds with that heartbeat staccato in my ears. And the look of a fire... to stand up close to something so powerful is what all firefighters dream of. When facing fire, I feel exhilarated. Rejuvenated. Alive. Yet with each fire I fight, I also know a part of me dies. Whatever toxic smoke I've inhaled is sure to have destroyed cells in my lungs perhaps taking minutes or years off my life, muscle fibres have deteriorated from the strain of exertion, and those really bad calls involving violence chips away at my belief in humanity. But this force of nature called fire is the siren song that keeps me coming back for more.

on being a woman

On the job, I've had my share of ups and downs. Because as a woman, even though I passed each and every test same as the next guy, I still had to prove myself... ten times over. I remember as a rookie feeling humiliated because my Captain made me don full bunker gear and breathing apparatus and then made me drag his 250 pound arse around the station to prove that I could get him out of a fire if necessary. Instead of protesting, I did it while the rest of the crew watched. He didn't make anyone else do it... but whatever... I did it even though I had already just passed my physical to get on the job. I am pretty sure he broke some labour laws in asking me to do that but unfortunately stuff like this happens. And you don't want to be the one to lodge a complaint because then you get labeled the trouble maker. Same Captain used to ask me to make him tea and bring it to him wherever he happened to be in station. It can be tough being female in the fire service because you're an anomaly, a curiosity, because you have breasts. And many will test you simply because you're not a dude until you've proved yourself and then just become one of the guys. It may happen at a big call where you've done something superhuman or heroic.... or it may happen over the course of time. For me, it happened when I stopped giving a crap what the guys thought of me. And if someone pushed, I shoved back. Now that the years have gone by, I have to say I really like being different and I don't mind standing out in the sea of blue. It's a privilege and not a curse being a woman in the fire service. Looking back, if I had to prove myself again, I would do it in a heart beat, because those guys who treated me unfairly just made me an emotionally stronger, and more determined person and a better firefighter. The irony is that in them trying to break me down, they actually built me up. They gave me a big gift in disguise and I think without them I wouldn't have the appreciation of where I came from and who I've become...

week deux

I'm on week two of my vacay. It is so hard not being on shift today. I know I'm an addict because soon as I am away from the firehall I start to get the jitters and start jonesing for the smell of cinders and ashes and the wail of the sirens. I miss my brotherhood. And I'll be darned if they go and have a three alarm without me today!