Buck and Eddie are navigating their quarter-life crisis as parents, juggling over 101 challenges at work and home, including the critical task of single-parenting their kids, Amelia and Christopher, while working as firefighters at Station 118.
Eve...
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Buck
I am trying to get a decent 7-ish hours of sleep, but my mind won't turn off. There's so much on my mind. My daughter Amelia Hope has to come to work with me for the first time ever today. Then after work, I am taking her to get ice cream or treats since it's her birthday today. I hope my shift doesn't run overtime though. She deserves a special birthday. We moved last year and it's been a rough transition for her since. Her nanny is out sick today, and Maddie is working a long shift like I am all day today.
I have hid her from the 118 team for as long as I can remember. I'm not embarrassed or ashamed to say I have a kid as a firefighter. I don't want the team or Howie making fun of or pitying me.
The only people who know about Amelia are Maddie, my parents, and Amelia's mom.
I tried my best to keep Amelia from the fires and emergency stuff. However, as a single parent, the secret has to come out. Maddie says I need a support system but I have hid Amelia from the station for quite a while since I moved here. I'm fine.
After glancing at my alarm on my phone that reads 3:30 am, I attempt to close my eyes again, nothing works though. Usually, I am out like a light after a 10 hour shift.
I don't know what's going on and why I can't sleep.
As I get up to go to the bathroom to splash some water on my face, I hear a child's scream.
My child.
"Mils, I'm coming." I wipe my hands on a towel that's hanging on a rack.
Once I get to my daughter's very pink bedroom, I gently open the door in attempt not to scare her even more. I see her screaming and crying on her bed.
Maddie says she has night terrors. I think they are nightmares. We haven't had a chance to get a diagnosis or sleep study done though.
This is not a good way to start her birthday.
I look over at her bed and see that her firefighter dog plush fell off her bed, the squishmallow penguin Maddie gave her is under her sheets which are on the floor, and her fluffy sparkly pink duvet is all over the matress as if I didn't make it the day before.
"Hey, was it a nightmare again, Millie? I'm here. You are okay." I reach down for her favorite penguin squishmallow which is the softest toy she owns and sit a few inches away from her while she recovers from her nightmare mental breakdown.
"It's okay. You are okay. Breath. In and out. Follow me." I rub her back and let her finish crying once her nightmare/night terror is over.
