Gift Guides

Gift Ideas for Firefighters: RecycledFirefighter Gear

Last week I gave you a gift idea for a runner. This week, it’s for the firefighters among us. Or the people that live with them/put up with them/clean up after them. You know.

I’m married to a firefighter, so it’s not a surprise that I keep an eye on cool firefighter related stuff throughout the year. While I always add some ornaments to my husband’s Christmas gift pile to continue to grow our fire themed tree, I know that ornaments don’t strike a lot of excitement and joy in his heart. That’s why I was thrilled that a friend’s brother formed RecycledFirefighter earlier this year.

RecycledFirefighrer is run by my friend’s brother, Jake Starr. He’s a full time firefighter who loves being creative. I can get behind that, especially because his products are so stinkin’ awesome. In short, the products he makes and sells are made from — you guessed it — recycled fire hose. Awesome.

We have a set of coasters. Ours are a neutral, like these, but he also has a set of red coasters and a set of yellow listed.

Coasters Made from Recycled Fire Hose

I am trying to fight off the temptation to buy FireDad one of these belts. Red or yellow? (Can we get some suspenders up in here, Jake?)

Belts Made from Recycled Fire Hose

And lastly, if the firefighter in your life doesn’t need a belt and your end tables don’t need some coasters, maybe someone in your life needs a toiletry bag. They’re available in various colors and they would be great for travel, or you know, spending 24 hours at the fire department.

Toiletry Bags Made from Recycled Fire Hose

I really like these products because they not only reuse products instead of just sending them off to landfills, but because they’re useful. And unique. And awesome. I love our coasters. I think you will too!


Disclaimer: Jake’s sister Bethany, a great friend of ours, sent us a set earlier this year. I’m sharing the store with you because I think this is a hot idea. Hot. Get it? Firefighters?


fire life Parenting Photography

52 Weeks of Brotherhood, Week 32

Hooray for fire trucks!

52 Weeks of Brotherhood, Week 32

52 Weeks of Brotherhood, Week 32

“Boys, climb up on the front of the fire truck so I can take a picture.”

If they’ve heard that sentence once, they’ve heard it a billion and twelve times in their relatively short lives. The front of the truck, the back of the truck, sit in the seat, lean out the window, smile, look serious, sit still, move around, do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the signs — all fire trucks, all the time.

Photos of every age and stage, every haircut, favorite shirts, Sunday best dressed, costumes, t-ball uniforms, field trips and on and on have been captured in front of, behind and beside these fire trucks. We’ve brought friends and family with us from time to time, taking their pictures too.

I look through the massive amounts of photos and remember the time that Munchkin and JD came to visit, and two boys and a little girl with massive amounts of curls sat together, sibling on the front of a fire engine. I remember posing LittleBrother with his daddy’s fire helmet on the front of the truck, clad in nothing but a Goodmama diaper. I remember when they learned they could make the bell ring — loudly. I remember yelling, “STOP RINGING THE BELL.” I remember when they realized that the firefighter wash the trucks at 6:00 every evening. “Can we go help wash trucks tonight?” I remember when I used to have to help them climb up on the back (lower) and in the doors (a bit higher) and on the front of the fire truck (the highest).

“I think I can climb up here by myself now!” I watched as LittleBrother hoisted a leg up on the shiny silver front, pulling his body weight up and over and sat, staring at me with that smile on his face. I snapped the picture, and marked it as one to remember, like I’ve done before. The one where I realized he needs me even less.

I will never tire of taking photos of brothers at the fire station, but oh, my heart as I look back on how they’ve grown. So fast. Too fast.