I love Johnny. We’ve been together since 1996, married since 1998 and two kids. A new home, several remodeling project later we’ve slipped in to a comfortable pseudo-routine. I say pseudo, because life in the fire service is anything but predictable. He has to request vacation time nearly a year in advance, so it’s not like we can do anything at the drop of a hat. And yet vacations have been cancelled, childbirth scheduled, and holidays rescheduled.
When he’s at work I enjoy my quiet evenings with 1 1/3 glasses of wine and complete control of the TV after the kids go to bed. With his current schedule the only day he really gets to himself is Fridays. We’ve have been known to make dates for lunch on those days and get out our respective planners to review schedules and childcare arrangements for the following pay period. Spontaneity is just not possible.
Being married to a firefighter is really a study in opposites. You have to plan really far ahead, but at the same time you have to be prepared to cancel or modify your plans, too. I have bundled up the two youngest and hopped a plane to Colorado to surprise my Grandma for Thanksgiving since Johnny had to work, and I’ve gone off on weekend trips to San Diego when he got forced on and couldn’t go with us.
If nothing else, being married to a firefighter has made me a much stronger woman. I’m much more inclined to do things on my own now than I ever was before I met Johnny.