The second most important thing to a Fire Station

Biceps has begun his “real life” as a firefighter, right here in our hometown. Before the Academy, he was employed as a firefighter by another city, driving back and forth for almost two hours. But, now he’s here and just a few miles down the road. Boo yeah.

It may be a bit of a boys’ club, but they don’t ever turn away cookies, cakes or ice cream.

Trust me.

I’ve learned something by visiting these men a few times. Sure, they have to fight fires, kick in doors, and chainsaw through roofs in order to save homes and lives. Yes, they arrive on scene to DOA’s, horrible car accidents, child abuse situations and people stuck in cherry pickers.

Because of this, they look like superheroes to me-taking care of business when I would be crumpled to the ground in an emotional heap-wreck. (Yes, that’s a word.)

But underneath all the bunker gear, the breathing apparatus and the helmet, they’re still just men.

Men who love their families, their hobbies and their food.

The first time I was invited to the station, I was full-blown nervous. I wore a tank top so that my sweaty pits could breathe. I wore heels so that I would look like I took this invitation seriously. And, I made a mustache cake. I knew if I totally bombed, at least I would have a dessert to make up for it.

I arrived on scene to six firefighting men hovering over a commercial grade stove, taking their jobs of cooking very seriously. A ham was being carved, a skillet full of green beans was being stirred, stuffing was warming in the oven and the mashed potatoes were still steaming.

Whatever I was worried about was for nought. Dinner with five strangers and Biceps couldn’t haven’t been more perfect-the food was amazing and the conversation happened easily. And bonus-I didn’t say one stupid thing. However, my pits did sweat-it was stinkin’ hot in that kitchen. It’s like these guys are around fire all day long, or something.

During the meal, I soon realized how seriously these men took their cooking. “There would be no taco salad or sloppy joe’s made here,” they said. Besides saving lives, cooking was the most important thing they did on shift.

And then, Biceps was asked to make dinner. You must understand that although helpful in the kitchen, Biceps doesn’t really cook.

He was full-blown nervous. We went over a proposed menu numerous times, what times to start each item, how to tell when it’s done and all the little things us cooks forget we do.

“Oh yeah, of course you add olive oil. That kind of goes without saying.” Mr. Details (Biceps) disagreed.

He settled on mesquite chicken, broccoli and mashed potatoes. Total success, of course. And then, he was asked to make dinner again-this time sushi. Another total success.

He’s becoming a regular Julia Child-who happens to wear a helmet from time to time and run into burning buildings to pull out kitty cats and babies. How hot is that?

I guess a girl can have it all.

The Aftermath, The Mustaches & The Firefighter

Ah…the dust has settled. Everyone has gone home and the house is empty (save for two little naughty cats). But all the signs of a good party are visible.

Blueberries are smashed into my rug, mustaches are attached to every surface in our house, and our backyard still looks like a daycare center.

And, I arm wrestled a man and won.

True to Bicep’s style, he didn’t want to make his graduation into a “big deal”.

But, if you’re going to at least make it “a deal“, why not a “big deal”?

After all, Biceps has worked his bunz off for the last five months to not only graduate, but graduate number 1 in his class-both in academics and physical fitness. And-he was the “old guy” in the group. What a stud.

(Sorry, but a lady’s got to brag on her man every once in awhile.)

With the help of friends and family, we made it a “big deal”. There was a lot of food…

…and a lot of mustaches involved.

I mean a lot of mustaches.

Mustaches have been found on my mirrors, milk cartons and inside kitchen cabinets.

Our friends have a bizarre sense of humor.

And what’s a party without a few games to entertain the young (and the young at heart)? For several days, I sawed, sanded, sewed and painted three outdoor games-with firefighting themes, of course.

I think I might have had more fun creating the games than anyone had playing them. I giggled as I sewed up the dummy for the “Dummy Drag” and laughed outright as I hung a plywood cat up in a tree for the “Ladder Climb”.

I’m sure my neighbors think I’m bizarre, too.

Bicep’s parents hand-made dozens of mustaches to hang from the ceiling, along with this city scene-complete with tiny mustaches climbing a ladder.

I’m pretty sure making it a “big deal” was the way to go.

Congratulations, Biceps. I’m so proud of you.

This Cadet is on Fire

I’ve been pretty quiet about what Bicep’s been up to as of late. Mainly because I don’t know what I can or cannot talk about.

Not that it’s top secret, there are just some rulz I have to follow.

But-the light can now be seen at the end of the tunnel. And if all goes well, Biceps will be graduating from the fire academy in less than a month.

Once again, I will have someone to carry heavy things for me, tell me I’m pretty and generally just be around the house a little more. Thank goodness. This single wife thing stinks.

*Photos from this point on by TFD
So, while I’ve been at home studying for my real estate exam, doing Crossfit at the gym, or running errands…this is what Bicep’s has been training for:

Big white man fire.

There has been a lot of classroom work for Biceps. ALOT. It hasn’t been all fun and water games.

Bicep’s nose has been buried in a book for almost five months now. However, this is the culmination of all the preparation, the studying and the testing.

I’ve come to the realization that most men like to burn things, watch them burn and then put them out. I believe it’s some kind of control issue. Or some weird cavemanish remembrance.

At any rate, fighting fires together brings about a sense of camaraderie, accomplishment and victory for these men. Along with a lot of stinky clothes that find their way into my washing machine.

“But to have a wonderful man with stinky clothes is better than to have no man at all.” Or at least, I think that’s the saying….

So, now that you are privy to a little of what Bicep’s been up to. And, now you know how to pray. And I thank you. Seriously. Pray.

Oklahoma and Biceps are Fighting Fire

Oklahoma, like many parts of the United States, is on fire. Both June and July have had high temperatures over 90 degrees. And little rain.

It’s the perfect storm for unintentional grass and structure fires, along with the intentional arsonists dreams coming true. One little spark and poof-down goes a whole neighborhood.

(Photo Source)
Biceps came home yesterday morning with bloodshot eyes, less than two hours sleep and the hope of a nap.

After helping him unpack his smelly clothes, throwing him in the shower and feeding him, his head fell hard on the pillow. Twitching ensued for several minutes until it was “light’s out” for Biceps.

(Photo Source)
A mere 21 hours later, after dressing in his fresh clothes, packing him a lunch, Biceps left at 5 am to start it all over again.

Please pray for the safety of all firefighters-paid and volunteer. And if you have a local fire station close to you, I know from experience that a quick “thank you” from time to time makes the firefighter’s day. Along with cake. They really like cake.