I snapped this picture last night with my cell phone and uploaded it to my Instagram on my way to bed last night. Something about the way 374's helmet was thrown on the couch alongside everyone else's random belongings from the day caught my eye. At first I wasn't sure what made me stop and grab my phone to take the picture, but then I realized it was the perfect symbol of the volunteer fire lifestyle.
When you really look at this picture, you see the basket of clothes I washed and folded, the Tractor House magazine Bubby grabbed at the gas station on our way to visit friends yesterday. There's also the necklace Sassy wore yesterday and the case to the Game Boy that kept her occupied on the previously mentioned trip to visit friends. There's a water bottle the kids were drinking from while playing outside, and the shoes I wore while we ran errands.
In the middle of all those items from the various activities of the day is his fire helmet. Being the wife and kids of a volunteer firefighter means at any given time of day or night you know the tones could sound. It doesn't matter if we are at a party, having a family movie night, or we have just sat down to a much anticipated meal together - all those things could be, and routinely are, interrupted by a fire call. It amazes me how routine this life has become after three years. Most times neither the kids or I bat an eye as he runs out the door. Sure, some times are harder than others but no one complains anymore. We all know where he's going, what he's doing, and why. Through our firefighter we all have learned to be a little less selfish, and take a minute to remember that someone else is in a far worse situation and that's why our husband, our Daddy, our firefighter runs out the door.
This may not be the highest quality picture - after all it's a cell phone picture snapped in poor lighting at midnight, but to me it's a symbol of everything our life has become.