Military Monday: The Proof is in the Clematis.

My baby clematis peeking
over the fence

In our family we have a saying--well, several sayings actually--that revolve around postings/PCSs.

"I see someone I know every time I go to the grocery store...it must be time to move."

"I can't go anywhere without running into someone I know...it must be time to move."

"We've almost finished unpacking...it must be time to move."

"The bookcase is just the way I like it...it must be time to move."

"I actually feel comfortable at school...it must be time to move."

"The teachers know who I am...it must be time to move."

You get the idea.

We say these things to torture ourselves, I think. Or to make it easier when the posting message actually comes. A coping mechanism. When you move every 1-3 years, there are some things that you really come to appreciate. The simple fact that your kid's gifts in Math precede them to the next grade. The knowledge that if you needed someone, you'd have more than one person to call. The location of the very best coffeehouse in town. These are things taken for granted in other communities, but in the military community they can be a sign that you've truly settled in a place.

Spring has sprung on Vancouver Island

I love to garden, and one of my dreams is to live in a place long enough to have both an established saucer magnolia, and a full, thriving purple clematis. To date it's never happened.  Even one of the two would be nice, but as always, the magnolia just takes root...and it's time to move.

One of the first things I did last summer was plant a clematis, in hopes it would take root and grow to something fantastic while we were still here. It did well all summer, and I even saw a few blooms before the fall. Throughout our short winter, I watched it, wondering how it would fare.

And now, after a wet and dark winter, spring is here on the pacific coast. Flowers are blooming and birds are singing and last week I noticed that my Clematis plant is not only up, but it's thriving. New shoots are poking out everywhere, and it's grown tall enough to peek over our almost six foot fence.

The clematis is thriving...it must be time to move, right?

Yup. Our posting message came the next day.

And so, the clematis has spoken.  The Dunne family are on the move this summer, this time to the Eastern US.

As much as the upcoming post is exciting, I'll be sad to leave my little clematis plant to fend for itself. Who knows, maybe our next house will have one to take it's place.

And a magnolia too.

Brenda

Like this post? Check out my other posts on 'Posting Phases:Orders, or Season of See-You-Later.

April: The Month of the Military Child

FIVE REASONS MILITARY CHILDREN ARE AWESOME:

About two weeks ago I had the privilege of sitting in a local elementary school, listening to children from 6th to 10th grade give speeches--in French--as part of a nationwide competition, the Concours d'Arts Oratoire, (Oratory Arts Competition). It was the district finals, and my youngest daughter, who started French Immersion in 4th grade, was one of three finalists speaking in the 8th grade group of 'early immersion' kids, kids who started French in kindergarten.

Her speech was on Les Enfants de la Militaire, basically Military Children. She spoke fluently in a language she's only known for four years, with a passion born from life in seven homes in three countries, seven schools, numerous deployments and goodbyes.

Although my French is spotty, I have to say I was so proud to listen to her speak. She answered questions--in fluent French--about what she loved about being a military child, about the Month of the Military Child, and about her reasoning behind her speech.

She won the division. (so proud!!)

And then a week later my husband received a posting message for another cross-continental, cross-border move.

There's no life like it, right?

The fact is, military kids put up with a lot. How many first and second world war children never got to meet their fathers? How many times do military kids have to say goodbye to their bestest of BFF's, because their parent has to go to a new location? Stressors abound in the military lifestyle, and often military kids endure them in silence, because that's just the way life is.

But it's not all bad. In fact, the military life is a pretty fabulous way to grow up. The flower of the military child is a dandelion, and for good reasons. They move, they set up roots, and they flourish wherever they're put. In our family we've

embraced the lifestyle, and it's made all the difference. Being a military child sets kids up for real life.

They're amazing individuals, and here's five reasons why:

1. Military children are resilient.

All of that movement, all of that change, sets kids up well for real life. Your high school friends most likely won't be there to support you through college. And jobs don't necessarily happen where you want them too. Like many things in life, the only way to learn how to adapt to new situations is to experience them--and these children experience many, many new things in their early years.

2. Military children know respect.

In a culture which demands respect, military kids learn the meaning first hand. Yes, there are exceptions to the rule (we've all met that kid), but generally military kids understand that rules are there for a reason.

3. Military children are good workers.

When my husband went away on deployment in 2010, I knew I'd need help with the day to day things or the house would slowly deteriorate around me. I set up a chore chart, with three sets of chores, rotating between the 3 kids each week. Some weeks were a little harder, some easier, but, surprisingly enough, it worked. My kids learned that if they didn't do the dishes one day, the pile would be even bigger the next. Six years later, that chore chart still exists, and although I sometimes have to prompt, they generally sort it out. It's a huge help. And skills they will need for later in life.

4. Military children are independent.

You don't have to be a teenager to know that high schools are social jungles. Walking into a new high school alone, without knowing a soul, is a seriously stressful event. But they do it. Time and again. And next year, it will be a new school, a new job, and a new team in a different place.

5. Military children have global experiences.

One of our favourite parts of being a military family is the opportunities we've had to see new places and experience new cultures. Even within Canada, things are done differently in different parts of the country. Our kids are experienced travellers, and they understand that life does not stop at the high school doors. There is so much more out there and they recognize that they've had many opportunities others don't get to experience... like learning to speak French. Or hanging out with dad at an air show. Or even going to school in a different country.

Do you know a military child? Let them know how much you appreciate their silent support.

Are you a military child? Thank you. Your service behind the scenes makes our world a better place.



Brenda

Military Monday: You Know You Are a Military Spouse WHEN... (for June)

After this morning's Facebook post (which, by the way was entirely serious) I thought I'd sit down and write out a Dunne list of military spouse-isms for the end of June. Feel free to add yours in the comments!

You know you are a military spouse when...

1. You see a moving truck pull into your subdivision and you have a minor panic attack.

Are we posted? Did I forget to put it on the calendar? But I just finished unpacking! Is someone I know moving? NO! They can't leave! I like them!

You get the picture.

2. You start packing for your next move and realize you have ten boxes you still haven't unpacked from the last move.

OH! That's where that pair of shoes went! I've been looking for them for three years! And...oops. I don't think that ham sandwich was intended to be packed in the foyer closet box...eeeewww.

3. You're filling out the criminal record check forms so you can coach your 4 y.o. son's soccer team, and you have to look up postal codes for three places to put in the 'List addresses for the past 5 years' section.

Not lying. I had to do that two weeks ago for a different summer activity.

4. You decide to file your kid's report cards properly (for a change) and realize last year's report card is still in a box. Somewhere.

Remember those ten boxes? My advice is to start looking in the bottom one.

5. You give up trying to find last year's (insert summer item here) and just buy a new one. 

It probably was broken/wouldn't fit, anyway.

6. You start looking at real estate websites in random locations, because you know you're likely posted next year. 

I am addicted to the multi-listing service (MLS). Just the whisper of potential postings sends me in a frenzy of home shopping. This year is no exception. And no, we aren't moving...yet.

7. You could wallpaper your house with rainbows of those little moving company stickers. 

Yep. Been there.

8. You know what FIGMO* stands for.

I--not lying--explained this acronym to one of my civilian co-workers this past week. She'd never heard of it. I enlightened her and she totally agreed she was FIGMO. :)

9. You are FIGMO.

Even if you didn't work during this post. You get that June feeling. You know, the THANK GOD SCHOOL IS FINISHED FOR A FEW MONTHS, feeling. Or maybe you're glad to be leaving your job too...and going along with your spouse. There's something so freeing about moving to a totally new place with a new job and new potential friends.


10. June is a happy-sad-stressful month.

See number 1. Who is leaving? Who is moving in? Where are you going? Where is your spouse heading on exercise? How are you going to deal with kids leaving their friends?

Looking ahead to moving and having friends move is emotionally draining. Actually June is draining.

Take heart. August is only a few months away.


Brenda


*FIGMO= F*@# It, Got My Orders.

Dear Teacher Who Just Gave My Kid A Chance

Dear Teacher, Coach, Instructor, Leader, Responsible Adult,

You don't know me--not yet, anyway--but you just met my daughter. You know, the one with the freckles? The new kid that just moved in from God-knows-where, and came into your wonderful, well established class/team/group/lesson,  the class you've been teaching since these kids were teeny-weeny and didn't want to leave their moms. You've spent forever getting these no-longer-little humans to work together as a group. You've watched them find their passions. You rejoiced when they became friends. You've encouraged them as they fought and found their way. And last year, you jumped for joy when they triumphed and came FIRST PLACE at that big, big BIG competition. Their success was the result of years and years of your hard work.

But today, my kid came into the room, and you didn't have a clue what to do with her.

She walked in...a stranger, an unknown, an alien. The other kids stared. Who in the heck was this girl? Waltzing in, to disturb their perfectly-balanced microcosm of society?

You knew nothing about my kid's abilities, and you were worried that this unknown would turn your award-winning team into a disaster. You wondered if I was being truthful about my kid's background and training. You've had kids like her before...and they didn't last.

You, dear teacher, could have chosen one of two roads.

You could have taken the easy road--treated my teen like a stranger, doubted her abilities, erred on the side of safety. Your gut was probably telling you this. Parents tend to exaggerate, don't they? Unknowns rarely prove worthy of recognition. And God-knows-where likely had horrible teachers-- fakes masquerading as professionals. You could have completely discounted my kid, and you would have been justified in your own mind.

You knew nothing about my amazing daughter...and you could have made a difficult situation much, much worse.

But you did not take this road.

You wonderful, wonderful person. You dear, sweet, patient human being.

You didn't walk down that path at all. There were so many ways you could have hurt my girl, so many simple, minuscule things you could have done to make her already difficult life a nightmare...but you didn't.

Instead, you watched. Not too closely--not so intensely that she felt singled out. You watched just enough to see and understand what she was made of.

You understood that she would be behind in some things, but you also realized that she would be far ahead in others. You were patient when she didn't follow your way of teaching. And when she caught on, you praised her, but didn't dwell. You gave her time to assimilate new methods, and you challenged her on the things she knew. You placed her with others, and encouraged the tiny spark of friendship.

You asked questions...and you believed the answers.

The next class you challenged her a bit more. You put her closer to the spotlight, but you didn't push.

You watched and waited.

You believed in her. You wanted her to succeed. You knew that her many experiences had given her a wide, full background to pull from. You celebrated her differences.

And before you knew it...she became part of the team. Sure, it was a tentative link, a delicate and tender and thin tendril that tied her to this tight-knit group with a BIG history, but you supported that thread. You helped her to weave herself in, and then you let her go.

Dear teacher who just gave my kid a chance, you couldn't have known that she's done this not once, not twice, but six times in her short life. You couldn't have known that being the new kid every other year is beyond hard. It's scary and demeaning and physically and emotionally painful. Your watching and waiting and supporting were vital in not just your class, but in her very existence.

It may have seemed second nature to you, but believe me, it's not like that for some teachers. There are those that are quick to discount, quick to shut out, quick to discriminate. Those that would stomp all over her confidence to make a point.

You did none of these things. Nope. Not you. You gave my kid a chance. And in giving my kid a chance you proved to her that she is worth the effort. You showed her that God-knows-where is a good place to be from. And you strengthened the foundation she'll build on in the next place.

Dear teacher who just gave my kid a chance, you are a true hero.

Thank you, from the bottom of this proud mom's heart.

Throwback Thursday: Chin High and Pushing Through.

The following is cut and pasted from my older blog (This Mom is Overdunne), originally posted five years ago in July of 2010. At the time my hubby was deployed, and I was feeling...well...hard done by. A lot has happened since then,(two moves, many more challenges and successes...) and we've weathered the storms to get to where we are now. 

I have many friends who are in the various stages of deployment, and I wish them all the best as they hold their chins high and push through the difficult days. 

I hope they know that they are loved. 

I hope they know that it will pass. 

And I hope they know how very, very important they are.


Originally posted HERE on July 18, 2010:

Quarrels, Quinte Cups, Conversation Killers (and Queries)

It's been a month and a half that I've been parenting on my own, thanks to the Canadian Armed Forces. The kids and I have gotten into a routine. We've pulled one of the chairs away from the table, so it doesn't seem so empty without dad (pictured, left) there. I work my shortened work week, I taxi the kids to their activities, and I try (unsuccessfully) to keep the house from looking like a complete pig stye. I feed them at least one vegetable a day. We eat out more than once a week. Pretty normal, actually.

According to my handy-dandy Family Deployment Handbook (FDH), I'm right on schedule. I'm in the 'Recovery and Stabilization Phase'. Meaning...I'm not sick? And I'm not so unstable? That the old boat ain't so tipsy? True, the almost-in-labour anxiety has calmed down, and I spend less time sitting in the middle of the bathroom floor sobbing. But I still hate it. Just because I'm not running down our country road screaming obscenities and pulling my hair out doesn't mean I don't think about it. 

The FDH states that by week 6 I should be experiencing "Feelings of increased confidence, independence, competence, freedom, pride, isolation, anxiety and depression". How can you be confident and still be depressed? How can you feel competent and independent, yet have anxiety? Living in deployment-land is full of nasty contradictions. I'm moodier than a PMSing teen deprived of sleep and coffee. One thing's for sure...if Momma's grumpy, everyone's grumpy. I try to be patient. But patience has never been my forte. So the kids are less patient with each other...and then the fights start. I have adopted the 'Mom's having a time out' technique. Rather than blow up at them for blowing up at each other, I lock myself in my bedroom and count to 1000 (10 just doesn't cut it). It works...more or less. The kids go 'Huh?' and stop quarrelling. And I get a precious moment or two by myself.

It bugs me that the little FDH book is so accurate, though. I hate to be pegged. But it's right. Independent? My husband (and parents, and siblings...)will tell you that he didn't have to go away for me to be independent. And now that he's gone, independence has hit full force. Whatever you do, DON'T suggest I can't do something. I'm like a kid with a dare. Two weekends ago the girls were at their first away horse show (One of the Quinte Cup Series)of the season. Two ponies, two girls, my son, saddles, bridles, helmets, show outfits, water, a sun shelter, chairs, food, diabetic supplies (for my youngest) and coffee, all had to be packed into boxes, trucks and trailers for a day long show in the heat. We got up at 4 a.m. to leave. And it went...okay. We got there, the girls showed, and we came home. I did it, with help from others, of course, but I did it. So there, ha ha. Independent me. 

And as to coversation killers... I read a post on Facebook this week that just about hit the nose on the head. I can't find it now (of course) and can't find the author, so forgive me if you wrote it. (And let me know if you did so I can give you credit) but it was along the lines of "14 things to NOT say to a spouse of a deployed soldier". I have great friends, and they generally know how it is with me. But I'd like to paraphrase a few of the points:

1. "I know how you feel." You don't. Heck, I don't even know how I feel most of the time. If your husband has NOT gone away for 6 months and flown in and out of Afghanistan at least once during that time, you don't know how I feel. If you haven't sat beside your diabetic daughter at 3 in the morning praying her sugars come down, you don't know how I feel. Just like I don't know how you're getting through whatever challenge you have in your life right now. My FDH tells me I feel isolated. Darn right. I'm alone in my experiences. I don't generally want to talk about it with anyone, because it kills the conversation dead. 

2. "It could be worse, he could be in..." Gee, thanks. Make me feel even worse than I already feel. Sure, he could be somewhere worse. I'm sure there are a million things that could make my current situation even more stressful. Do I want to think about them right now? NO.

3. "Well at least the kids are older (not babies)" Have you ever had a pre-pubescent daughter? Not fun. Tears at least twice a day. And my kids are old enough to understand where their dad is. They get it. It's on the news every day. Someone killed, someone bombed, funding cuts...I try to turn off the news, and thankfully hubby is not in Afghanistan all of the time, but they hear it. And they think about it. Babies don't. 

I could go on and on, but the negative vibes are making me grumpy, so I'd like to add a change of tone. I want to give you a few things I'd LIKE to hear. Music to the deployed spouse's ear, a balm for my tired soul. 

1. "Here's a gift certificate to the spa. I'll stay at your house and watch your kids." I don't have time to look after myself these days, what with summer (ie kids are home), work and taxiing. I'd love to have a moment alone. And if my kids are home, I have less to worry about than if you took them to...Wonderland or anywhere else far away and less safe. I can't relax if I think there's some danger. And with a diabetic daughter, keeping my diabetes-educated kids together, and keeping them at home means easy access to whatever food, medicine, or equipment she needs. If you offer something like this to a military spouse, though...make sure you follow through. There is nothing worse than looking at a gift certificate on the fridge for six months straight. And I can guarantee they won't ask you about it.

2. "Let me pick up the milk, pizza...(insert food item here)" I could really use help with lunch/supper now and then. I love to cook, but hate to decide WHAT to cook. We live 10 minutes away from even a corner store, so dinner = preplanning. The less I have to do, the better.

3. "You look great." "You're doing great." "You're a super mom." "You're husband is so lucky to have you." "Insert compliment here." What I'm doing is hard. My main cheerleader is gone. My kids complain. A little bit of heartfelt flattery goes a long way. 

And here's one for just me...

4. "I loved your query...please send me your full manuscript!" Sorry, had to say it. My biggest project for the week ahead is to FINALLY send off a couple of queries to agents in hope that one of them will support my book. A wholelotta anxiety over that one, I can tell you! I've spent over a year editing and coddling it since my last misguided attempts(yup, I did EVERYTHING wrong with those first queries). It's time to let go again, and see what happens. Query number one went out today. Wish me luck.

Brenda

Five Reasons Women SHOULD Consider a Career in the Military

There's been a lot of discussion in the Canadian media this past week about sexual misconduct in the military environment. Our Chief of Defence Staff, Gen Tom Lawson commissioned a review of our armed forces in 2014, and the findings were reported in a document released this week here.

It's a pretty harsh report, denoting the military environment as 'hostile' and 'sexualized'.

Funny, I never felt that way in my years of uniformed service. The possibility existed, yes, and there were moments where I felt uncomfortable. But never hostile, and no more so than I'd feel in many other male-dominated environments. Or that I'd felt working at my previous job at Tim Horton's Coffee Shop. Let's just say I had my butt pinched more than once as a waitress. And NEVER as a uniform wearing military woman.

Ask any woman who's walked into a previously men-only board room, or a football pitch, and they'd likely say they felt the same way. And as women continue to work their way up into a 'mans world' this will continue to happen.

Society needs to change, and the military is just one aspect of it.

But.

In spite of all of the issues, the armed forces are a GREAT place for women to work. Especially now. Why?

1. Equal pay for equal rank. Nowhere else are you so clearly eligible for the exact same pay for the same work, no matter what gender. If you are a three year corporal or a two year captain, you make the same pay for the same job. Pay is tightly controlled by a series of rules.

2. You get paid to keep fit. That's right. It's expected that you will exercise. It's part of your job. What other careers allow you time off of work to go to that kettle-bell class?

3. Maternity benefits. In Canada our military women get paid time off of up to a year for maternity benefits. Bonding time with baby is so important. And our armed forces allow women that time.

4. You get to learn to shoot. Or fix trucks. Or drive big machines. Or fly fast airplanes, or run hospitals or save lives. There are so many options. And you can finish your university education with no debt, a job waiting and a decent starting salary. One of my favourite things about completing my degree with the ROTP program was the fact that my books and equipment were also covered. No huge textbook bills to worry about. And I still use my degree that the military paid for. Win-win.

5. Opportunities for advancement. Yes, there are women generals, and colonels, and warrant officers. These opportunities are improving (especially now) and career progression is more and more regulated.


And the best part? This new report will only make things even better, as leadership continues to push for gender equality. For no-tolerance on sexual harassment in the workplace, and for safe, victim-centred reporting processes. Where else in the workforce can you find that?

Not at the coffee shop.


Brenda

Military Monday: That Time of Year

Make new friends,

But keep the old,

One is silver- 

and the other gold. 

~Anonymous

Yes, it's that time of year again. The posting messages are out, the houses are on the market, and the house hunting trips are booked.

April in the military is not just about new beginnings--not just spring and newness and fresh air. April is the time when the realization starts to hit that this too must come to an end. And when the emotional roller-coaster starts it's trek uphill for both the leavers and the left.

There are two sides of each move and, depending on the year, military families experience both. Every year we know it's coming. Some years we leave, some years we don't. Sometimes the goodbyes are more permanent, and sometimes they are more like see you next year. Sometimes blossoming connections get cut short and come to a quick and final end, and sometimes they are just the beginnings of deep-rooted, life-long friendships.

This year our family gets to stay put. It's a relief in some ways...no boxes, no stressful search for a new home, no schools to pick and trips to plan. Even writing about it elevates my heart rate and makes me sweat. Heck, we still have boxes from our 2014 move, waiting for me to dive in and organize (and they'll likely continue to wait until the next move...).

But, like every year before this one, staying put is bittersweet...because already the process of goodbye has begun.  I have several new friends who are preparing to move, and although I'm happy for them, it makes me sad to think that we may never see each other again when they do. I know from experience that it is much, much easier to leave than to be left. The leaver has the excitement of new adventures ahead, and the left has a hole where a friend once was.

What's amazing about military families is that they keep doing it. They keep searching out friends, even knowing there's no permanence to the situation they are in. They push themselves to say hello, even when they are emotionally fragile from last year's loss. Some posts they may spend in a rut of loneliness, but they know that maybe the next time, the next place has a BFF just waiting to be discovered.

And the result? Maybe not in all cases, but in my case a wealth of wonderful, life-long connections. Kindred spirits from afar. Friendships across the globe. People I love dearly and would do anything for. Unique, amazing individuals who I may never see again, but who have touched my life.

And I'd like to think, in some small way, I've touched theirs.

Sure I'm sad it's that time of year. I'm sad to know that my friends are leaving. But this world has a way of keeping the connections we make. I know there's a new friend waiting, just around the corner. And I know my old friends are always there.

Brenda

7 Reasons Why Military Wives are Stressed Out All of the Time (But you may not know it)

I've haven't posted much on my Military Monday blogs over the past few weeks, not for lack of things to post about, but because I had SO MANY things I wanted to post about, and didn't know where to start. I'll admit, I hadn't planned a post for today. Today is 'Family Day' in British Columbia. A provincial holiday designed to encourage family together time. A great initiative, even when together time means posting on your blog while your teens snore happily from their beds at 9 a.m..

This weekend I read two blog posts. The first one, posted by a friend of mine who is currently on a duty station in the United Kingdom, entitled The Military Family Vaccination Problem. You can read it here on Canadian Army Wife's blog. It struck a cord with me, having dealt with this very problem a few weeks ago, so much so that I wrote a long, drawn out comment. Incidentally, the same blog was reposted this morning on the Canadian Medical Association's Blog which you can find here.

The second blog was by Dr. Psych Mom on Huffington Post's blog, entitled: 7 Reasons Your Wife is Stressed Out All The Time. It can be found here.

Both blogs highlighted real problems. One was more military-centric, the other more general. But they got me thinking. I have many, many friends who are military wives who somehow manage to hold down a job, raise healthy, happy children, and meet the 'expectations' of being a military wife with panache. I'd even like to include myself in this group. These ladies take the term Supermom to a new level.

What you don't see, though, is the exhaustion beneath the facade. Why? Because even though they might be stressed out, they have learned to put on a brave face. Their problems are minimal, because hey, their husbands job is so much more stressful than anything they could ever do.

1. Military Wives are Judged Differently Than Other Wives.

This may sound picky, but it's the truth. How many times have I heard, 'But you must be used to it by now'. Or: 'You should have known what you were getting yourself into when you married him'. The thing is, there is nothing you could do to prepare yourself for three days of barfing kids in a snowstorm a thousand miles from your family while your husband is under fire in Afghanistan. Nothing. But it happens.

2. Women Need More Sleep Than Men.

I love that Dr. Rodman included this in her blog, and I'm reposting it here, because in the military lifestyle, the sleep thing is even more complicated. There is no way a military wife would suggest her hubby gets up to deal with the crying baby when she knows he's going to be training with live ammunition the next day. Or flying a multi-million dollar aircraft. Or searching in broiling ocean waters for a lost fisherman. And when hubby is deployed, she's on her own...often for months at a time. If she doesn't get up to soothe the crying baby, no one will. And the toddler gets up at 5 a.m....

3. Help Is Often Far Away.

The closest I have lived to my mother (i.e. the go-to person for mothering matters) is 600 km away. Right now she is an entire country away. More than 3000 km away. And my bestest friend (other than my husband) is almost the same distance. Add time zone differences and busy lifestyles, and I'm lucky if I speak with either of them once a week. That's pretty typical for military wives. And if their most trusted friends are not nearby, they won't ask for help.

4. The Help That's Close is Inaccessible.

This one is tricky. The military is wonderful for providing help for military spouses. We have many, many resources available to us. Social workers, support groups, discussion panels, gym facilities, casual childcare... the list goes on. Especially in Canada, the Military Family Resource Centres (MFRCs) are a huge help in navigating the lifestyle we have chosen to lead. The problem is not lack of resources. The problem is accessing them.

Occasionally getting to the resource, i.e. basic geography, is the issue. Take Ottawa for example. The city is vast. The MFRC is wonderful. But for most wives, the actual programmes are at least a 45 min drive to access.

The biggest problem with accessing help, though, is the stigma associated with it. Military wives, like their husbands, do not want to be seen as weak. They want to be supermom. They want to look like they've got it together. So walking into an MFRC to access a support group for deployed spouses is the last thing they want to do. Nor do they want to tell hubby (who is getting shot at on a regular basis) that they need help.

It's a problem with no ready solution. The MFRCs continue to search for one, though, and for that they should be applauded.

5. Military Wives Deal With Many Life Stressors At Once.

Moving itself is a stressor. Move to a new country, new job, new doctors and new schools with a new rental agreement, an unsold previous home, two toddlers and a newborn? That's a lot of stressors. Add a husband that leaves three days later for a 1.5 month 'indoctrination course'? Yeah. And don't say that would never happen, because I've done it.

Military wives deal with this stuff every one to four years, Sometimes less. Moving is hugely stressful, and there are always issues. Always problems. And mom often takes the brunt of it. The vaccination issues that Canadian Army Wife illustrated are just the tip of the iceberg. Finding a new family doctor (read about it here) is one of my biggest headaches. Same with dealing with new schools and trying to explain an educational issue for the umpteenth time to a new teacher. It's hard to explain how stressful that is to hubby, because as Dr. Rodman says, women are judged differently than men. A dad who walks into the school with a child with learning difficulties is much more likely to be listened to. Especially if he's still wearing his uniform.

Add PTSD into the equation, and life gets even more complicated. Great articles on the PTSD struggle can be found here and here.

6. Tradition Is A Harsh Taskmaster.

Oh boy. Tradition. The unwritten code of etiquette that dictates the everyday life a military family. Rank, duty, honour, expectation. All difficult to manoeuvre and all without a handbook. And each post has it's own micro-culture that you have to figure out upon arrival. Talk about stress. And a lot of military wives have no previous military experience, so learning how to manoeuvre life on base is like learning a completely new culture. With no course to explain it.

7. Guilt.

Guilt is a four letter word masquerading as a five.

In most military families, the husband is the breadwinner. His job--a soldier/airman/marine/sailor--dictates where the family lives, when he works, how long he works and what he does. The military 'owns' him, so to speak.

Most military wives get it. They don't want to complain. They understand that his job is hard. They get that they have to move...again. They understand that hubby has to be deployed...again. But they have to reconcile that understanding with the complex difficulties of their life. They wouldn't dream of asking for help because they see that as weakness. They feel their problems are minuscule compared to hubby's 24-hour-a-day job in the desert. He needs to focus on staying safe. He needs to know that everything's okay at home--his wife is managing, his kids are alright, the bills are being paid and the household is just fine--so that he can concentrate on his dangerous job. So they feel guilty that they even think about being stressed, which only makes them more stressed. And then they feel guilty that they themselves are stressed when hubby's job is just so much more stressful.

And do they talk about it? No.


As I mentioned above, the good news is that there are resources available. And military leaders are aware of these stressors and are trying to help. Talking about stressors for military wives is the first step. Are you a military spouse? What stresses you out? How do you deal with stress? Do you talk about stressors with your husband or do you go elsewhere? What do you find helps?

I'd love to hear below.

Brenda

Five Calendar Years

So, this morning I was surfing through twitter and I saw this tweet:

There's still time to nominate an author for the 2015 Lieutenant Governor's Award for Literary Excellence! The... http://t.co/nfiw3gNQD7
— The BC Book Prizes (@bcbookprizes) January 28, 2015

I was all YAY! A literary prize! I live in BC! Maybe I can apply!

Before I go any further, let me add that I in no way have delusions of grandeur. I write. I write good things, and I write some not-so-good things. I probably will never win a literary prize, but I have to admit, I'd like to someday write something that was worthy of recognition. Maybe I haven't written that yet, but someday. It's a secret (well, not so secret now...) dream of mine.

You miss 100% of the shots you don't take, right? So it was worth a look.

I clicked on the link, which goes directly to the rules. And yes, my eyes were a bit big for the award's specifics. It says this...

The recipient of the Lieutenant Governor’s Award for Literary Excellence will be recognized as having:

• written a substantial body of literary work throughout their career; and
• contributed significantly to the literary community/industry of the Province of British Columbia.

Obviously, I have not contributed significantly to the literary community of the Province of BC. Heck, I just got here 6 months ago. So no, I'm not really the one for this prize. But with an eye for future possibilities I read on to the eligibility requirements.

1. Writers must be Canadian Citizens or Permanent Residents who were either born in British Columbia or whose principle place of residence has been British Columbia for at least the last five (5) full calendar years.

There it is.

At least the last five full calendar years.

You all know military spouses move a lot. You can read my rant on this HERE. It pretty much says it all.

Since I began my journey with the military as an Officer Cadet more than twenty-five years ago, I have not lived ANYWHERE for five full calendar years.

Let me repeat that. I have not lived ANYWHERE for five full calendar years. 

I managed to get six years in Ontario, but lived in two different places (with the option to make that four...which we, as a family, decided against) in that time frame. It's a big province.

So basically, this award is out--likely permanently--because I choose to follow the man I love. And, I might add, have a great adventure doing so.

This is not the first literary award I've looked at that I was not eligible for because of my status as a very mobile military spouse, and it won't be the last. And I have no idea how to fix it. I'm not going to stop moving, and I'm not going to stop writing, and I'm not going to give up on my dream of someday writing something so exceptional as to warrant recognition.

Thankfully there are some awards, the biggies like the Giller Prize, the Governor General's awards and Commonwealth book prizes, where being a resident anywhere in the country is enough. I can dream about those ones. Those are big dreams for far out possibilities.

I know...Perhaps I can be instrumental in advocating for a Military Family Literary Award? In fact, that's a great idea. An award for people like me, who write and move and deal with the unique stressors of life as an author and military spouse.

Anyone want to help me work on that? Make it a nice juicy award with lots of publicity and a huge pot of prize money?

Hey, a girl can dream.

Until then, I need to get back to writing. :)



Brenda

Military Monday: Military Wives Choirs

Happy New Year!

The presents are open, the parties are over and the kids are back to school. Let me just say that you have not seen holiday celebration insanity until you've been closely associated with a military base! It was an amazing season, with concerts and parties and dinners and fun, but I'm so very glad to be getting back into a routine--and back to writing, blogging and a bit of normalcy.

Although I'm not a fan of New Year's resolutions, I am a huge fan of making goals and seeing the fruits of my hard work not only ripen but multiply...and one of those goals is about to be realized! It's a goal that has nothing to do with writing, and everything to do with being a military spouse.

After several meetings and emails and phone calls, much research and a whole lot of luck, this week will mark the inaugural meeting of the Canadian Military Wives Choir Comox! If all goes well, this amazing organization will be setting up shop on my local base, and I cannot wait to be a part of it.

Have you heard of the Military Wives Choir movement? It started just 5 years ago in 2010 when a group of wives (yes, just women) in the UK got together to sing and support one another while their husbands were deployed--a chance to learn, grow and get away from the daily stress of being on their own. The choir grew rapidly with the support of Gareth Malone as their choirmaster, and in  2011 they released their first single Wherever You Are, which shot to number one on the UK charts. There are now more than 80 choirs around the UK and the world.

The first Canadian Military Wives Choir started in 2013 in Ottawa, and the Comox choir will spread the movement to the west coast of Canada. From humble beginnings great things are accomplished. A chorister since my elementary school days, I've wanted to be a part of a choir like this since I saw the Wherever You Are video way back in 2011. So excited to sing with the wonderful people who support those in uniform--Military Wives!

Have you set a New Year's goal? Feel free to share it below!

Brenda

Military Monday: Remember

Lewis Ward Love
1895-1918

This man was my great uncle.

I never knew him. Little is known about his life, and even less is known about his death. He never married and had few connections. He died on a field in France, fighting a war that was nearing it's end.

If not for this picture, a few records, a headstone, and some handed-down stories, his very existence would be forgotten. He would fade away, like the thousands and thousands of World War I soldiers who signed up and sailed away, never to be seen again.

Remembering someone you never knew isn't an easy task.

It takes work to force our brains to focus on a picture of a stranger. To imagine how they lived, how they walked, the tone of their voice, their aspirations and dreams. We can find out about them through research, we can visit their gravestones. We can study the history books and ask questions of historians, but in the end, we still know very little.

But yet, it is our duty to understand that this man, like the other nameless thousands, was more than

Near Arras, France 2008

just a pawn in someone else's war. We have to fight to bring his face to mind. To really look at him and understand that whatever small part he had to play, he was there for us.

For you. For me. For our children, and their children.

Tomorrow the Last Post will play for my uncle and others like him who died in the pursuit of peace. The piper will play his lament. The silence will be held and we will bow our heads in a moment of reflection. We will somehow, in our own ways, bring their faces to mind, hear their names called and reflect on their short lives. It's not easy, but we must do it anyway. And we must teach our children to do it as well.

George Santayana is credited with the saying: "Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it." It is of utmost importance that we make the effort to remember these unknown faces. Each and every one of them.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them. ~Robert Laurence Binyon

We will remember them.

Brenda

Military Monday: From Here

Those of you who follow my Facebook posts will have seen the small issue I had with a comment made on my blog last week. (You can find it HERE--scroll to the bottom and click on comments). The comment itself seems harmless enough, and perhaps the commenter, whoever he/she is, didn't fully read my blog post before stating his or her own opinion.

I believe all military spouses are entitled to their opinion and as such, this commenter is entitled to her (or his) own thoughts. I do thank her because she has spurred some lively discussion (and a huge outpouring of support...thank you everyone!) and has caused me to ask some interesting introspective questions.

"...if you aren't from the area (you aren't)...you probably shouldn't be making comments like this if you want to make friends"--Anonymous

Wow.

Just, wow.

Here's the deal. I grew up in small town New Brunswick. Graduated from high school at 16, and haven't lived in my home town since. Not counting inter-city moves on the same posting, I have lived in 16 different places in three different countries since that time. The longest I have lived in one home is three years.

So where am I from?

If I were to move back to my home town (where, incidentally, I still own property), would I feel at home? Would people there say I was from there? Or would they look at me and say I was a foreigner? The truth of the matter is, other than friends I've kept in touch with throughout the years, there are many who wouldn't recognize me. And the town, though the same in some ways, is different in others. I'm sure the wonderful people there still consider me a native, but is that what I think of as home?

Home is a fleeting thought for most military spouses.

It's even worse for military kids. My kids have been with us on all of those moves, so where do they say they are from? One of my children actually thinks of home as 'Grammie and Grampie's place'...where she has never lived.

In reality, we, as military spouses, have willingly given up our roots for the service of our country by choosing to follow our service members wherever they go. Very few military families end up living in their home towns. They live where they are sent, for short periods of time, and then they pack up and move again. As such we are 'from' where we live.

I'll repeat that.

I am from HERE.

I live here. I pay taxes here. My family is here. My furniture, my kids' schools, my job, my grocery store, my pharmacy, my dog, my cat...are all here. In an election, I would vote here.

My home is here.

So I am entitled to an opinion about here. As is every military spouse that lives in this town.

We are here because our spouses have chosen to wear a uniform and stand up for the beliefs that this country, this province and this town hold dear. In a crisis, our spouses would be the first to stand up for here. They would put their lives on the line for every last one of the residents of this place, regardless of where they were born. As would I. It is our civic responsibility--especially as parents--to take part in local educational debates. Our taxes support these schools and we have a right to be involved in their administration.

I even have friends here. Genuine people. Some of whom grew up right here. Do they agree with every one of my thoughts? I don't know. Probably not. But they are my friends because they like me because of who I am, not because they agree or disagree with my opinions. As far as I know, the best way to have a friend is to be one, and those who know me will be aware of my loyalty to my friends. If I were from somewhere else, why would it matter? True friendship has no borders.

Where am I from? Here. And I'm proud to say it.


Brenda

Posting Phase Six: Season of See You Later

Today I begin the long Season of See-You-Laters.

I say season, because goodbye doesn't happen all at once (as most frequent-movers know). It's a process. Sometimes painful (my twelve-year-old's bestest, bestest friends EVER), sometimes celebratory (the twit at the end of the road that tried to hit my dog every time he drove by--yeah, wasn't sad to say goodbye to him on that posting...), each goodbye has a story. Some people I'll remember. Some people I won't. Some friends will be life-long, and some I'll never hear from again.

The process starts long before I pull out of my driveway for the final time. We haven't even gone on a house hunting trip and it's already started here. Saying goodbye starts when I realize I'm not going to be in that part of town again, when I look at my calendar and do a double-take at the surprising lack of time before our drive-out date. I start cramming in coffee dates and dinner parties and last minute meet-ups--slowly at first... But each time I see a colleague, a co-worker, a friend... I recognize it might be your last.

Goodbye is hard.

Hence the See-You-Later.

You see, after twenty-plus years of military friendships, it becomes obvious that goodbye is rarely forever. And with today's social media, goodbye is becoming almost unnecessary. I can Facebook with friends I haven't seen in twenty years and tweet with people from ten different postings. And sooner or later, we'll be posted back together again, so why bother with goodbye?

I prefer 'see ya soon', or 'until next time'. Who knows what will happen?

But today is my last day of work at my day job as a physiotherapist at a long term care facility. A job I absolutely love. I've only been there four months, but I wish, for once, I could stay. It's a perfect complement to my writing career, it pays well, and I get to spend time with amazing people...some of whom are nearly a century old.

I hope 'see you later' will be the right call today, while I'm finishing up paperwork and tidying up my space, because I'd love to see some of these elderly ladies again. They have such wonderful stories. Such interesting histories. Sadly, they don't tweet, and they don't Facebook.

I've still got lots of time in this house/posting (thank goodness!) and I've got lots of time to finish my final coffee dates. I'll be back in this area again, so I'll say see-you-later, and I'll hope that our paths cross again.

Brenda


Like Posting Phases? More to come! Check out the first five here:

Posting Phase Five: The Long Wait

Posting Phase Four: The Stash and Dash

Posting Phase Three: Orders!

Posting Phase Two: Closet Clean-out

Posting Phase One: Real Estate Research

On Living in the Moment

As I write this, I'm sitting here on my newly-installed porch swing, looking over my just-constructed flower garden underneath new hanging baskets and beside the veggie garden I planted last weekend. We had this farm (yes, farm) built (yes, built) two and a half years ago. We built a barn, fenced in four paddocks, did all of our own landscaping including raised bed vegetable gardens.

We will be moving across the continent in less than two months. 

I can hear what you're thinking. Flower gardens? Veggies? Porch swings? With two months to go in your house? Why, on God's green earth, would you put yourself through that in a temporary home? 

My friend may have brought up this very point a week or so ago when I was showing off my beautiful porch swing. Also a military spouse, she understands the tentative nature of our existence. She didn't quite imply that I was insane. Okay, maybe a little bit. But she stopped short of giving me the coo-coo swirly finger--hence why we're still friends.

Anyway, my reply to her was this:

Because it makes me happy. 

Incredibly happy. I'm sitting here basking in sunshine and birdsong and writing to you and my heart may just explode from pure bliss. My dog is lying by my feet and I've got an iced coffee and the breeze is blowing the hanging baskets and this moment right now couldn't be more perfect. 

I'm pretty much in heaven.

Yes, we live a chaotic life. Yes, it seems like a huge waste of energy for such a brief period of time. Yes, we'll have to take the bloody swing down in a month and a half and the veggies will more than likely go into someone else's mouth. 

But as Shelby says in Steel Magnolias...I'd rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special. And in the big scheme of things often thirty minutes is all we have in a place like this. So if it takes busting my butt with a trailer load of dirt, or my amazing hubby spending a few hours with a screwdriver and a ladder peering through metal soffit with a flashlight... well, that's what we've got to do. 

Enjoying what you have is up to you. No one else can create your happiness. And as my BFF and I discussed last week, it may take a little elbow grease and a little sweat, but it is sooooo worth it. I would not have it any other way.

Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Live in the moment.

You'll be happy you did. 

Brenda

Military Monday: Posting Phase Five

PHASE FIVE: THE LONG WAIT

Everything is ready. The house is clean. The plans are made. The signs are up and our stash and dash is perfected.

But the phone doesn't ring.

The housing market slumps.

And that highly anticipated rapid and insane house sale doesn't happen.

Still waiting...

Sadly, not every house sale goes as planned. No matter how much time you spend thinking about your listing price, no matter how magazine-perfect your rooms are, no matter how many bells and whistles your feature sheet cites, sometimes the right buyer just doesn't materialize. We've been on both ends of the spectrum. We've had a week-long insane buyer's bonanza and we've had the six-month long haul--complete with hubby moving on ahead of us while I try to keep my brain from exploding in a spotless house with three kids and two pets.

Sometimes there's no magic to it. You list aggressively, you clean like Cinderella, and you wait. You lower your price, offer incentives...and you wait.

Patience is a virtue I lack.

There are lots of tips out there for ensuring a quick house sale (like this one from HGTV). But once you've exhausted yourself cleaning out closets and mopping floors and folding your bathroom towels just so, all there is left to do is hang in there and hope and pray for the best. You still have to live in your house.

Unfortunately so does the rest of your family.

Ah, the joys of military posting-hood.


Brenda

Want to read more Posting Phases?  Check them out!

Posting Phase Four: The Stash and Dash

Posting Phase Three: Orders!

Posting Phase Two: Closet Clean-out

Posting Phase One: Real Estate Research

Posting Phase Three: Orders!

Maybe we could just move here? The Dunnes at
the Universal Studios.

As usually happens, my hubby received his posting orders at the moment he least expected... while standing in line at the Duelling Dragons ride at Universal Studios, Orlando! Ah, the age of modern technology has changed the process quite a lot in our 25+ years associated with the military. Nothing like a buzzing Blackberry as you are staring down uncertain death by Harry Potter Dragon-coaster, to let you know your life is--quite literally--about to turn upside down and topsy turvy.

So...joking aside, we are extremely excited to be moving across the continent this year to beautiful Comox, British Columbia! (Or at least I've heard it's beautiful. The closest I've been is Victoria, about 3 hours south.) For my American friends, Comox is north of Seattle. This is an amazing posting for my hubby, and we're all looking forward to spending time with tall trees, big mountains and ocean beaches. Also looking forward to meeting new friends and reconnecting with old ones on the west coast. The last time I lived out west was for basic training in Chilliwack, BC...25 years ago!

What the posting message really means to us (when Dragon rides and vacation trips are over and reality starts to sink in) is that now we can finally DO SOMETHING about our move. Real estate agents have been called on both sides of the country, appointments have been booked and the ball is rolling toward a summer move. Posting Phase Four and all the others will be coming up soon and it's nice to be moving forward instead of flying circles in a holding pattern. Now if we can just sell our house, I can actually look at the real estate sites with a purpose!

Speaking of which... Must. Go. Clean.

Any one else out there received a posting message? Where are you off too this summer?

Brenda

Military Monday: The Changing Nature of Time

Of course we all know that time is fluid, sometimes speeding up, sometimes slowing down. And no where is this more true than in a military family.

Imagine looking ahead to a deployment. Be it six months, nine months, a year... even two weeks. The time between now and when your spouse leaves is like a speeding freight train coming right at you. The closer it gets, the faster it seems to go, until it smacks you right in the face and then keeps going, running over you and leaving you stunned and a tiny bit lost.

Yet after they leave, time stretches out. Long, trudgy days of the same routine over and over again with no variety. Stress. No news. No bright lights in the near future to focus on. Their few phone calls? Like a single breath--in, out and it's over. Two weeks of leave in the middle? A huge wait for a heart beat of time.

Time expands and contracts in weird ways for military families. Sometimes there's not enough time. Some time there's too much.

Take my family for example. We're still waiting for that lovely piece of paper (or in today's day and age an email) that says: You're Posted! Get Going! It seems like we've been waiting forever for that little tidbit. While you're waiting you can't do anything, just watch those beautifully perfect homes on MLS appear and disappear like smoke.

But when it comes? Chaos. Five million things need to be done, all at once, that can't be done without the official OK. (see my Posting Phases posts...) Houses cleaned and dejunked and listed, house hunting trips booked, schools notified, plans made, and time becomes an unstoppable wave that builds and builds until it crashes down and you are driving away from three years of friendships and home-building into a world of unknowns and adventure.


Call me strange, but I actually like the changing nature of time. It's something I can count on--even if that's a bit of an oxymoron. It's consistently changing. One of the expecteds in my life. Those long days of waiting are great for just...existing. Reading a book, finding something fun to do with the kids, letting the housework slide and watching a movie. Sometimes it takes work to enjoy the slow-downs. Sometimes it's really hard to see the positives when there are still three months of single parenting ahead. But what choice do we have? Time keeps passing. I use slow days to recharge my batteries.

And the speedy days? Those are fun in a whole different way. Riding the wave is like careening down a ski-hill at top speed, reacting to the trees as they pop up in front of you. It's scary and exciting and sometimes it's really hard to put on the brakes on enjoy the moment. Too many things to do and too little time to do them in means you have to prioritize. Breathe. Look those little memories in your brain to take them out when things slow down again.

Because it's guaranteed that the minute you get comfortable with the speed of time it will change again. 

In the words of the old adage...This too shall pass. So why not enjoy it before it does?


Brenda

Military Monday...The Wait

Hurry up and wait.

The mantra of military folk everywhere.

The Dunne family are still in a holding pattern, so I won't bore you with more stories of new life forms found in teenager's closets. Or the terrifying ordeal of tackling the storage room. Or the garage (which has yet to be attempted). Phase two is still in full swing, the cleaning out of closets continues. The getting rid of junk marches on.

And we have no news.

**cue Jeopardy music**

Such is the life.

So.....anyone out there gotten a posting message already?  Where are you off to? Anything exciting?

In the meantime, the Dunne writing world is spooling up for the launch of DEPENDENT on July 29th. And big news...

I have eARCs! 

Paper copies are coming soon, so if you have a blog, are interested in reviewing or hosting me on your blog during the DEPENDENT BLOG TOUR this summer, let me know! I can send you the link for the blog tour sign up.

And don't forget that you can pre-order on Amazon here.  Or head on over to the Goodreads page and pop DEPENDENT on your to-read list!

Happy Monday,

Brenda

Military Monday: Posting Phase Two

Phase Two: Closet Clean-out

Orders Received yet?  No.

Estimated TTD: Narrowing it down, but no orders, no point.

Our junk is alive. 

There's no other possible explanation. It has to be alive, because how else could it multiply at such an alarming rate? We recycle, we give clothes away, we only replace things when necessary, we take things OUT of the house by the trailer load. So how is it that EVERY SINGLE CLOSET in this house is FULL of crap? 

I just don't get it. It must be reproducing.

Even though we don't have a message, we are pretty sure one is coming. After all, we've been in this house three years. So I, being a planner to the nth degree, have begun the process. 

THE PRE-LISTING CLEAN-OUT.

God help me. Having sold a gazillion houses in the past, I know that the minute we call a real-estate agent, they will be out here. Wanting forms filled out. Wanting measurements taken and...

Wanting magazine-perfect pictures.

Ugh. 

So that means everything needs to be ready before we even call them. Closets need to be cleaned out. Let me tell you. A teen's closet is a scary place. You won't find Narnia in that baby. There's dead things in there. Skeletons and cobwebs and mould. Science projects gone rogue. There's a reason kids don't like to sleep with their closet doors open, and I am about to go into battle with the things that go bump in the night.

The last time I cleaned out closets I barely escaped with my life.

It's an emotional, frustrating, hypertensive time, because I get to find out just how many items of 'clean' clothing got tossed into a back corner. How many treasured items got thrown underneath mounds of forgotten toys. How many half-eaten food items somehow found their way into neatly folded sweaters. And how that 'I NEED TO HAVE IT!' item has spent the past three years still in it's sealed box.

I have to take it one closet at a time, with lots of chocolate and wine.

And so, because today is my day off, I've got my haz-mat suit on, my bleach in hand, and I'm ready.

If you don't hear from me in two days, send help.

Brenda.

Military Monday: Careers for Military Spouses - Education

PART 3 OF A 3 PART SERIES

One of the many problems for military spouses attempting to embark on a new career path is the difficulty in obtaining a degree or diploma in their preferred field. Once again, we move. And our husbands go away a lot. And we often have young children at home and no family in the same time zone, let alone the same town. The application deadlines generally fall before posting messages come out, so even when you do apply, there's no guarantee you'll be able to follow through. And education is expensive! How do you afford four or more years of courses when you are barely making ends meet now?

So...is there any hope for a military spouse looking to get a new start in the job market?


In a word...YES! Although no one can guarantee it will be easy (it won't), there are many avenues you can pursue, and many military spouses have successfully completed the necessary education in spite of the challenges. The big question is how?

Firstly, all Canadian Military Family Resource Centres have an Education and Training component with Resource Libraries and links to help you investigate the possibilities. Whether it be for adult high school, college, university, or other courses, they are there to help you succeed. Start your journey by paying them a visit.

Not in Canada? Although I'm no expert on the American/British/Australian/other systems, similar programs exist to help you as well. Military.com has a tab dedicated to education for American spouses(as well as many other sites), and for British MoD spouses I believe the HIVE system has resources to help you.

When narrowing down to a specific course of study, a military spouse has to consider several key factors:

1. Does the educational institution have a distance learning possibility for your course? Some universities operate almost entirely online. Abathasca University is one example that has a great track record and is very portable. Other universities suggested by my readers included U of Manitoba, and Mount Saint Vincent University.

2. Is financial assistance available? Some universities offer special scholarships for adult learners, there are also tax breaks for those enrolled in secondary education. A low interest loan may be the best bet. Or, have you considered doing your degree on one of the military training plans, like ROTP? (I got my physiotherapy degree this way) Talk to your local MFRC or the finance/tuition assistance section of your university for more info.

3. Childcare? How can I study with the kids at home? Nothing like having a sick toddler and a twenty page paper due the next day. All I can say to this one is that there is always a way. Not necessarily an easy or perfect way, but a way. Talk to your spouse, friends, MFRC, university, family members...and figure it out. Plan around naptimes and bedtimes. And plan to keep long hours and late nights.

4. What happens if...? Expect problems. Completing a new degree or diploma will take time, energy and money. You will have questions and no idea how to get the answers. You'll have sick kids and no child care, long assignments and no time. You'll get an unexpected posting message. Your spouse will be deployed. Try to plan ahead for possible snags so that when they happen you'll be prepared. In the end it will be worth it!

When it comes to your education...there is always a way.

Have an spousal education story or an education solution you'd like to share? Know something I don't? (Very likely :) )Please comment below, or talk to me on facebook here. You may just help another spouse in the same situation!

Thanks and have a great week!

Brenda