Posts Tagged With: Family

~ Dapper Moose ~

March has hit The Little Cottage, full-tilt!  The children’s art wall now sports homemade St. Patty’s day clovers from years-gone-by.

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Every year, our family has gathered at the kitchen table to make our own artistic renderings of shamrocks.  No, we’re not Irish, but we do like to celebrate like we were!!!

Who wouldn’t?  No one, that’s who!

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This was Varmint’s, from last year……

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…and this was Critters from 2008….he had a hard time writing his name (Garrick), and so this particular shamrock is known as the “Gorrk Shamrock”.

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And this one was Grandma Jane’s from way back in….oh, wait…it was last year.  Let’s be honest…she pencil-whipped it.  Grandma Jane has a problem with whipping up motivation to make shamrocks.  I think that particular shamrock was her way of saying “Here’s my bleepity bleep bleep family shamrock…can we eat now?”  She’s like that….

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And after we do the shamrocks, which everyone except Grandma happily does, we dress up the Moose.   He has a nice top hat and bow tie.  He’s dapper, that guy.

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You’ll note the yummy muffins in the background.  I wish I could  brag that they were homemade, but this particular carbo-loaded pile is fresh from the store.

I’ll be honest, my muffins suck. No Blarney.  For real.  I’ve rarely been able to turn out a perfectly fluffy muffin.  Got a C in Home Economics on my muffins because I was too rough on my batter.  Some things never change.

Don’t tell anyone.  I live in shame, to this day.

Where was I?

Right, the Moose.  My Captain dressed him yesterday.  He did it super fast, too.  Faster than you could look up how to spell Shillelagh….which took me longer than you’d believe because I’m a bonehead, apparently.

He walked out there, all casual-like, threw the costume on lightning-quick, and hightailed it back to the house before more than a couple of cars passed the house.

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Our Dapper Leprechaun Moose.  Do you think My Captain was embarrassed to be seen doing that for me?  That’s love, I tell ya.

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Eleven more days until St. Patty’s day!   Not that we’re counting or anything!

Don’t judge.

 

Categories: Family, Food | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

~ Tough Love Competition ~

It is the eve of September 11th.  A sober night for our country, and particularly poignant for My Captain, since he was deployed with Maryland Task Force One to join the collapse rescue effort that morning at the Pentagon.

untitledCCHe would spend the next 7 gruesome days on the ground of the disaster as the Task Force Leader of Maryland Task Force One, leading their effort to find any viable survivors.

They found none.  Not a single one.  Plenty of burning jet fuel and rubble, but no survivors.

One “holy cow” story that came out of his experience that deployment actually happened on 9/12.  A man in a military uniform was brought to My Captain during the rescue efforts because he had a NEED to get to a desk on the exact spot the plane hit.  It turned out that there was a file on that desk about the very man they knew they had to find:  Osama Bin Laden.   The military man needed to get to that desk and find that file.  My Captain feared there was no way the file or probably even the desk had survived.  But they got that man up the treacherously unstable rubble pile, and UNBELIEVABLY the desk was sitting right next to where the building collapsed, and the file was still sitting on it…unscathed.  UN-FREAKING-SCATHED.

No one could believe it.

There are other 9/11 deployment stories My Captain shares.  We’ll save them for another time.  He does share some of them every year with our local middle school on 9/11.

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In fact, he’ll be there all day tomorrow, as he has for the past several years, telling the kids about a day they were not even born to experience.  It’s crazy that those kids never knew the Pre-terrorist America as we did, growing up.

These thoughts were rattling around in my head as I was methodically doing the dishes this evening.   I thought about all of the families that were forever changed in that brief morning, and how all of those people never knew it was coming.  They never got one final goodbye.  One final hug or kiss.  They weren’t ready.

My eyes drifted to this:

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and I smiled.  Several months ago, I came down one morning and saw a note from My Captain that merely read: “I love you dearly.”

I left that note up there because every time I saw it, well, I felt warm, and tingly, and loved.

And then sometime this summer, I noticed that Varmint had added to it: “I love you more!”

And then sometime later, My Captain wrote: “I love you both the most!”

And then my Varmint wrote: “I call loving you guys infinity!”

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It was absolutely juvenile, and disturbing that we can’t even love each other without some kind of competition.

But truly, it makes me smile even bigger than before because, unlike so many of the victims of 9/11, we treat every day in this house as if we will never get the chance to say we love each other again.  Partly because My Captain’s profession is one of risk and danger.  And partly because of the lesson that was that horrible day.

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One we will never forget in our household.

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That’s My Captain in the white officer’s shirt at the far right of this picture.  If you are wondering why they were smiling, it was because they’d been deployed for 7 straight days and they were being relieved to go home…they were about to see their loved ones.  And they knew they were given the great gift to live another day to see those dear ones.

And love them.

Even if it was in an oddly competitive manner.

Categories: Fire and Rescue, Urban Search and Rescue | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

~ Icing On The Cake ~

Yesterday, on My Captain’s 50th birthday, the entire Montgomery County Fire and Rescue Operations Staff were out pounding the pavement for their annual Muscular Dystrophy Association Fundraising Drive.

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In other words, they were trading in their good looks and charming dispositions for the loose change in the ashtray of every vehicle that stopped at the intersection they held up.

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It was a hot, humid day, as always.  Actually, it was a hot and humid 3 days, as all three shifts in the county get to participate.  They actually compete against each other to see who can raise the most donations.  In years past, My Captain’s shift has fared really well on that contest.  I don’t know what they were doing to win…maybe going shirtless and just wearing their running gear pants and suspenders or something.  (Obviously, the female firefighters could seriously pull in the moola with that maneuver).

One year, I offered to stand out there with them. It was hotter than this year, and I, in all of my soft and squishy mama-ness got overheated and nearly passed out.  It was rawwwwthar embarrassing, took time for the guys to get me out of the street and into the shade, and basically was a big pain in the butt for people trying to accomplish something other than dealing with me!

This year I was like, “Hey Hon, do you want me to come hold a boot for a while?” and he was like, “Er…don’t you have a birthday cake to make or something?”

But fortunately, they didn’t really need me and my begging talents.   All the fire stations’ shifts were already out.  This is Engine 732’s crew.  They are the next station over from My Captain’s station.  Their station is shiny and new and big and has professionals to clean the place unlike My Captain’s aging firehouse.  Those things don’t make 32 a better fire shift, but it is something I like to bring up over and over again, just to stir the pot.

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And here is Station 8’s Captain, none other than My Captain’s best friend, (since 3rd grade when his father forced him to play with My Captain,) Ty.

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Ty lets his wife hold the boot.

Well, he kind of has to, since she is a firefighter:

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paramedic/badass:

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at Fire Station 34, who probably doesn’t fall out in a little heat during the MDA drive.

But the point is, she gets to play.

And I don’t.  I mean, geez, you fall out one time and they never let you come play in the traffic again.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, Captain Ty was out in the traffic, too.

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I think we can all agree that Ty is hot.  No, I mean HOT, like, it was stinkin HOT, and humid out.

That, and he’s really good looking and virile.  If you like that sort of thing.

Which Maggie does.

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And she’s no slouch herself.

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I want to be her when I grow up.   I also want to be a Moose.   Like a real Montana Moose.  But that is for an entirely different counseling session, altogether.

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Back to My Captain’s shift.  So they were out playing in the traffic, raising quite a bit of  money for Jerry’s Kids.

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And nobody got hit this year.

Which is nice.

Last year, My Captain had a few near misses.  We won’t elaborate on why people with ADD shouldn’t play in traffic, I don’t care what their rank is.

At the end of the day, the guys counted up all the donations.  I think My Captain’s shift pulled in something like $8,000.  THAT is a LOT of pennies, folks.  Some of them, Canadian.

I think they also received a few Hershey’s Park play tokens, and a few ladies’ phone numbers, but MDA let them keep those.

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But NONE of this is the point to this post. The POINT is that last year, for My Captain’s birthday, I had the time to bake him his favorite Boston Cream Pie.

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It was a real Beaut!

THIS year, however, my kitchen is all torn up, I’m not sure where all of my baking pans are, and I didn’t have time.   It’s his 50th birthday, and I couldn’t even bake him a ding-dang cake, even though he was working all day in the heat for MDA during his shift, AND running emergency calls, AND trying to get administration stuff done.   And I couldn’t even give him a homemade cake.

I suck, is what I’m saying.

But I DID go buy a cake that the shift could share after they got off of the roads last night.  And since I suck, I didn’t order it decorated ahead of time, so I had to write the birthday wishes on it myself.

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I had a little trouble with the icing.

Ahem.

My Captain sent me a photo after they cut into it, to show me how well the icing fared, as it sat in the fire house, for hours, waiting for the guys to finish the MDA  street walking……2015-09-03 15.52.09

Eeeesh.

It’s a damn good thing that My Captain has low expectations in a mate.

Don’t judge.

Categories: Family, Fire and Rescue | Tags: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

~ What Kids Really Need ~

I took Varmint and Critter to see the movie Mr. Peabody and Sherman a couple of days ago, then afterwards stopped at My Captain’s fire station to visit.  We hadn’t been there long before the munchkins, who were fired up after eating precisely 5.356 pounds of gummy bears, each, during the movie, began to be raaawwwwthar annoying.  You know…..

“I’m not touching you!”

“Quit it!”

“I’m not touching you!”

“Quit it!”

“I’m still not touching you!”

“Mom! Tell him to stop!”

“Critter, stop it.”

“Mom! I never touched her!”

That kind of thing.  I was tired by that time of the day, and wasn’t in the mood to deal with it well.  I begged the guys on the shift to help corral the brats.

One of My Captain’s Shift’s Master Firefighters, Craig, has kids of his own, and knew exactly what to do.  He walked into the office, and said, “All right, kids, time to wash the truck.” And then he turned and strode confidently to the engine bay, without looking back, as if there were no question that his order would be followed.

Both kids looked at me, perplexed.

“Well, Go On!” I nodded.

They whined and griped, but reluctantly followed him.

I waited a couple of minutes…just enough to let Craig get them started, then snuck into the bay to catch this on film.

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They spotted me and glared at me.

I snickered.

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“This is so unfair!” one muttered.

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“We’re not even getting paid.” one whined.

Craig chuckled and pointed out spots they missed.

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And he kept them at it until it was done.

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And then, something wonderful happened.  Halfway through, the whining stopped.  You could see my brats start to take pride in how clean the truck was.

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Some of the other guys on the shift stopped and watched.  You could tell the kids knew they were being observed, and made a show of putting extra elbow grease in.

It was attention, for the right reasons:  They were helping.  Being productive.  Being selfless.  They felt like a part of the team, like their efforts mattered.

And they were proud of it.

THAT is what kids need.  They don’t need more toys or channels, or more Ipods and x-boxes.  They need to be put to work, so they can prove to themselves that they matter, and what they do matters.  You can tell them until you are blue in the face that it’s not what they say in life, but what they do that makes them, but until they actually do, DO, it can’t really register.

Master Firefighter Craig has several kids of his own….he knew what he was doing.  This wasn’t his first rodeo!  He turned their negative behavior around…morphed it into positive, self-image-building work, and, quite possibly saved their lives in the process.

Thanks, Craig!

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~ If You Can’t Beat ‘Em….~

Every year we decorate the Carved Wooden Moose outside the Little Cottage for various holidays.  On Christmas, he sports Ol’ Saint Nick’s red hat. He really is as festive as any 9-foot moose can be.

Last year, his red hat had a little bit of a mishap, and had to be thrown away.  (By mishap, I mean that I got so frustrated when I couldn’t remove the hat post-New Years, I ended ripping the ding-dang thing clean off of his head.   Apparently I have anger management issues….)

So this year I had the task of sewing the Moose a NEW Santa Claus hat.  My Captain promised he would help design it.  I loved this idea because whenever My (big, strong hunk of a) Captain does something as sweet and sensitive as pick up a sewing needle, I get all gushy and warm inside.  Last year, it happened when Critter’s backpack needed mending….Talk about CHICK magnet.  Good NIGHT!)

Where was I?  Right, My captain started to help designing The Moose’s new holiday hat. I was envisioning just making a ginormous cone hat out of red felt, and then cutting an “X” wherever an antler or ear might be.

This is NOT how My Captain’s Left-Brain personality works.

Before I knew it, he had blue-prints, schematics, and back-up logistic plans in effect.  He was prepared.  Newsprint for pattern making?  Check.  Tape Measure?  Check.  Sharpie?  Check.  Red Felt?  Check.

But My Captain did NOT plan on one eensie weensie, but ultimately IMPORTANT aspect of this process.

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Sir Monty of Stinky Butt.

Oh, sure, he LOOKS benign enough,

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He LOOKS like he is only being attentive….

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He LOOKS like he hasn’t an evil-mastermind within that wee fuzzikins head of his.

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And then…..The Butt Wiggle.

The Butt Wiggle means attack is imminent.

The Butt Wiggle means you’d better hurry up and finish what you’re trying to accomplish.

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Especially if you are working with Sharpie Pens.  On Cream Carpeting.  New Cream Carpeting that would be reason enough for your wife to beat you like a piñata if you got ink on it.

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My Captain tried in vain to ignore Sir Monty.  He endeavored to work around him.

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All that did was induce Monty to call in the reinforcements.  Silly Captain.  You thought this would be straight-forward.  It’s just a Santa Hat, after all.

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My Captain is a smart man.  Wise enough to know when he’s made a fatal miscalculation.  Humble enough to admit defeat.

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He picked up his tape measure, and joined the party.

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Of course, Sir Monty knew all along that this would be how it ended.

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Sir Monty: 1, My Captain: 0.

Categories: Family | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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