The Art of Just Sitting

Attwood Bay, BC

Life is busy.

Life with three teens, two careers, and a husband in the RCAF sometimes borders on the insane. I love my life, though, and all of the amazing opportunities it presents. I love that I get to meet so many interesting people. I love that at my day job I can comfort the elderly in their final stages of life. I love the unique experiences that come from being the mom of three active kidlets and the wife of a serving member of the Canadian Armed Forces. And I love that we've seen so much of the world because of the fact that my hubby serves.

But sometimes--like now, for instance--I need to just sit.

Okay, maybe I'm not just sitting. I'm writing. But, For me, writing's like reading. It's an escape. I'm one of those extroverted introverts, and my batteries require a few minutes of calm and peaceful now and then to recharge themselves. A coffee, a comfy chair, some quiet music, a book or a laptop, and--my special treat--a warmed hot pack on my back. Oh, yeah. Bliss with a capital B. Heaven.

I need that time to rest my brain. Free time is so rare these days that when it happens it's almost a shock.  Wow! Is that really an hour in my schedule where I don't have to drive, work, organize or clean? I don't have groceries to buy, or checks to write, or meetings to attend, or laundry to do or kids to pick up or phone calls to make or forms to fill out or prescriptions to pick up or appointments to make...

Today, I have a day off. Imagine! What a strange concept.

Daddy-daughter moment

The problem is, in today's society our brains and bodies get so programmed to go a thousand miles a minute that it's hard to do nothing. It's hard to put the smart phone down (are they really that smart?), forget about the to-do list (oh yeah, we need bread...Must. Write. That. Down.) and be comfortable with simply existing. We may understand that the world will not cease because we are stepping away from it, but it's darned difficult to let ourselves pull back. We have to force ourselves to just sit.

So here's a scenario. Five days on a thirty-five foot sailboat. In a place so isolated it's called
Desolation Sound.

If you follow my Facebook page, you'll have seen some of the pictures. It took months of planning, hours and hours of preparation, and a big, circled no-you-may-not-book-anything-here slot on the calendar, but the Dunne Family were able to sail away to a place where there was no cell phone service. No wireless internet, and sometimes the mountains were so tall around us that they blocked our GPS.

Three teens, three books...

When you are that far from civilization on a tiny boat with four other people, just sitting is not just a necessity, it's an art.

We read a lot of books. In the five days, my eldest daughter read six. We played cards. We scanned the water for sea creatures (we saw porpoises, seals, thousands of jellyfish and even a pod of orcas), and the shore for bears (sadly, didn't see any). We snacked and fished and slept and sailed and at times we just sat.

It was awesome.

And when we came back, even though our bodies were tired and our laundry bins were full, our brains were rested...and our familial batteries were recharged for the insanity of the fall.

It's been two weeks since we returned from our holiday, and there's been barely a moment to think since, so days like today--with empty day planners and kids at school--are a treat to be savoured. Precious time to reflect on a summer well-spent, and maybe to read a little, write a little and just sit. I don't think you can ever perfect the art of just sitting...but I perhaps today I'll give it a shot.

And now to re-heat that hot pack...


Brenda

Strange humans...what are your rushing for? 

Take Each Day

I've been trying REALLY hard to work on a manuscript that's been languishing on my laptop.

Really. Hard.

I want to finish this manuscript so I can get it off to you wonderful readers. But for some reason it's just not flowing out of me. Not that I've got the dreaded writer's block--I'm still picking away at it, but I'm not writing the 2000+ words a day that I'd hoped for.

Just needs a hot coffee and a good book

I pull it up faithfully in the morning, write a paragraph, feel all keen and motivated and READY TO ROCK... and then I open up a social media site. Big mistake. Or a kid gets up and asks for a drive to something. Or I need to go to work. Or the flowers need to be watered (by hand and sparingly...we're on water restrictions), or the laundry needs to be done or I need to make coffee or buy groceries or look at this lovely garden idea on Pinterest or let the dog out or read this book or watch this Netflix show (Why, oh why did I let my daughter convince me to watch my first ever episode of Glee???), or go for a walk or pick up that kid I dropped off or check out a house for our potential new posting...

Yeah.

You get the idea.

The manuscript is still languishing.

But, I refuse to let myself fall into the pit of despair for being such a failure with this manuscript. Why?

Because it's summer. Sweet, sweet, summer. Because my kids have jobs or are putting out their very first resumes to get a job, and I want to support that initiative. My flowers are beautiful. I've created this lovely little floral patio and it makes me HAPPY. So does coffee. I've watched far more Glee than I care to admit, but I've spent hours snuggling with my teenaged girls and singing show tunes while doing so. I've read many books, and in my chosen second career we can call that research. And yes, I even managed to not completely destroy my son's million dollar car while zooming around some fictional town on Grand Theft Auto (well, I might of scratched it a bit, but he assures me that he has insurance. And I didn't kill anyone, so that's good...right?) He laughed, and I laughed, and it was a great moment.

Sometimes we get so caught up in the PUSH, that we forget to take each day as it's given to us. And with working two careers, raising three teens and helping to run a military household, that's often hard to do.

The good thing is that my manuscript is not going anywhere. I've got a couple with my lovely agents already, one of which is just going out on submission. Another story is brewing in my head. And where do I get my ideas for new stories?

By living, of course.

I'll write a few hundred words later...but now? I think there's some Glee calling my name.




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.

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

Merry Christmas!

Sorry I've been quiet as of late...just enjoying the hustle and bustle of the pre-holiday season. I've had a wonderful year, and it's all because of YOU--my friends, family and fans--and I just want to say THANK YOU and let you to know how much I appreciate your support. Merry Christmas, or happy Whateveryoucelebrate to you and those you love. See you in 2015 with new things and exciting possibilities!

~Brenda

Military Monday: Civic duty

So this weekend heralded the municipal elections in the province of BC. In Canada, these elections fall under the jurisdiction of the province, and the rules are therefore provincially oriented. Depending on the province, cities and towns vote on a predetermined day every 2,3 or 4 years.

One of the neat things about our current post is the connection we have with the local community. The local mayors are very active in wing/base activities, and the wing supports the community in every way it can. It's a win-win situation that provides huge benefits, and the civilian mayors and councillors are often well known by the military residents.

In my case, for the first time since I left my hometown almost 30 years ago, I actually knew several of the candidates on the ballot--people I've met through different social events and gatherings. I was looking forward to voting for the simple fact that I could finally take my civic duty seriously, and vote for the candidate I truly believed deserved the position. I also have some strong opinions about the school system here, and had researched the school trustee candidates carefully.

When we arrived and registered at the polling station...I proudly marched in beside my husband, British Columbia ID in hand, explaining to my teens how important it was to vote, how it was our duty to make our mark on the local government...

And then I was turned away.

I was not allowed to vote.

Why? Because provincial rules dictate that I have to have lived in the province for 6 months to be eligible to vote here.

I won't lie, I was a bit miffed. Okay, a lot miffed. Other new residents--residents who have lived within the town boundaries for 30 days--were eligible to vote merely because they had come from somewhere else in BC. Whereas I, who actually had an opinion about the candidates and what they stood for, could not.

The nice people at the voting station double checked, just to be sure, and were very helpful, but I left without filling out a ballot, placing my "I VOTED TODAY!" sticker in the trash on the way out.

Instead of proving a point to my teens, I had to explain to them how my vote was not eligible--not allowed.

How is this right?

This rule basically disqualifies all military members and their spouses and adult children posted in or out of the province this summer. That's at least 3 families on my street. Dozens of families on the base. And the same would be true for any base, anywhere in the province. That's a lot of people prevented from carrying out their civic responsibilities, merely because they are military. A significant percentage of the local population.

And with the constant flux of postings (moving every three years), some people will never meet the provincial requirements.

Obviously this is a rule that needs some careful re-consideration if municipalities with Canadian military constituents are to have true representative governments. Military families may not be 'from here' but we are Canadians with the same rights and freedoms as our new neighbours. Although there are other ways to make our opinions heard, the ballot box is one of the best.

Hopefully next time I'll actually be able to make my mark, and will walk away with my "I VOTED" sticker proudly worn on my chest. Hopefully next time, I'll be able to show my kids how proud I am in my local community by carrying out my civic duty to vote.

Because I am proud. I love it here. I'll just have to find other ways to make my mark.


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

Life lessons from my parents

My mom and dad.

Today, September 25th, 2014 marks the fiftieth anniversary of the day my parents walked down the aisle together.

Fifty years is a long time.

Half of a century.

And it is indeed something to celebrate. An accomplishment not often heard about in today's day and age. And though circumstance has dictated that we should be on two different coasts today, they are both very, very much on my mind and in my heart.

I've wracked my brains for some 'thing' to give them that would show them how much I love them. How much I appreciate them. How much they have meant to me. How proud I am of them and how they have shaped my life.

But how do you put a value on such feelings? How do you properly honour the people who gave you life and breath, put you on the right road and supported you even when it was they who needed support?

You don't.

And so here I sit at my laptop. Wishing I could be somewhere else and yet trying to share with the world how I feel. How do you put the appreciation for fifty years together into words?

I can only try.

When I was about 4, while my dad was out at work, my mom taught me how to read. My dad encouraged it when he came home. I'm pretty sure they thought I was from another planet because my desire for books was insatiable. I ate books. And I could not WAIT to get to school. I don't think they realized it at the time, but those first picture books were the makings of a career. Of a passion. Of a love that would last a lifetime.

Around the same time, my dad taught me how to fish. And hunt. And work a garden. And I learned to appreciate growing things and the earth around us. My mom taught me to bake by baking. And how to sew by sewing. How the work doesn't go away on it's own. I learned to make hay when the sun shines and to appreciate the rain when it comes.
I learned how much hard work goes into feeding a family. How sometimes you can put hours and hours of work into a project and have it fail, but you can't stop trying.

My mom taught me to appreciate the quiet times. To be still. To look beyond the moment and to have faith. She taught me that sometimes I have to stick up for myself--but that doesn't mean I have to be mean or vicious. You can be strong without being hard. Strength comes in many forms.

My father, a true handyman, taught me that I can repair just about anything with the right tools.

Together they fostered my independence from day one. They didn't coddle me (although my older siblings would disagree), and they didn't spend every waking hour entertaining me. They had work to do, and they did it. I played by myself. I found things to do. I read. I went outside. I climbed trees and I made leaf sailboats. I played with toy cars in the dirt and I ate apples right off of the tree. In letting me explore, they encouraged my imagination. Sure, times were different then, but I think in doing so, the taught me one of the basic rules of parenting. Kids learn by doing. They need to explore their environments and make mistakes to grow. I made lots of mistakes. But I learned. Sometimes I made the same mistake over and over again. But sooner or later I did it right.

Lastly, having watched my parents from day one, they taught me that the best things in life are not free. Love comes with a price. Hard work, long hours, sacrifice, and heartache are the currency of love and marital success. Forgiveness sometimes comes at heavy cost. No marriage is perfect. Often we hurt those we love most, and we have to dig deep to ask forgiveness. And sometimes things are too broken to be fixed, but you can't know that unless you first try to put it back together.

No matter how happy it looks on the outside, there are always issues. But getting through those issues together, humbling yourself, recognizing your differences and accepting them, brings huge rewards. My parents have taught me that. They find happiness in each other's company. They understand they are two distinct individuals and they have spent fifty years discovering how two parts can become one whole.

I am so incredibly proud to call them my parents.

I am here today as a testament to their love and dedication to one another.

And so, Edna and David Corey, I thank you for all that you have done for me. And I wish you many, many more years of happiness together.

Happy anniversary,

Brenda

Military Monday: Life...interrupted.

As you know, our summer has been a bit messy, with all of the moving and upheaval and chaos that goes with it. Although you never get used to that sort of insanity, you learn to deal with it. You expect a month or two of boxes and hiccups and new issues, and this summer is no exception.

As our moves typically occur in the summertime, we usually fumble through the months of July and August...knowing that in September we'll really be able to get organized. 

Because in September, the kids go back to school. Schedules are finalized, kids head off to their classes with backpacks full of shiny new school supplies... off to fill their heads with knowledge, meet new friends and settle in for the next few years. Parents are refreshed, energized, and people like me finally have the time to dig into those last few boxes and get their household administration under control. Time to sort out our careers, organize our days and make plans. Right? 

Wrong.

Waiting for the doors to open.

In the province of British Columbia (where we live), teachers are on strike. It's a messy, political, deep-rooted battle between the BC Teachers Federation and Governmental beings, and as an outsider moving in, I refuse to take sides and support either entity. When two sides can't sit down with an experienced negotiator and work it out, they lose my respect. I am already sick of the media ads and tweets that say (either directly or indirectly) 'Our side is better because we're willing to negotiate and the other side isn't, so you should support us!' Baloney. Horse poop. It all makes me grumpy. Especially when the people who the sides are fighting about--teachers and kids--just want to get back to school. 

Anyway I digress. 

The schools here are closed, and my kids are still home. Those hallowed first days of school where I can sip my coffee and organize my life are yet to happen. There are signs that the two sides are getting closer, but I'm not holding my breath.

I'll be fine. And my kids will be fine as well. But the first day of school is a milestone all families look forward to. And it has become blatantly clear how much we, as a military family, depend on that milestone to ease the sting of a posting. 

Because school isn't just about books. It's about life. 

Life for military families with kids on a new post starts on the first day of school. It's the real beginning. Until that day, the move isn't finished. Just like the pile of boxes in the corner, school holds so many possibilities and so many unknowns. It's a big stressor for military kids because there are so many unanswered questions. Will I like my teacher? Will I be able to play the trombone in band? Will I make the soccer team? Will I be behind or ahead in Math? Will I have too much homework? Will the kids on the bus be mean or nice? Will they tease me because I'm new? Did I get the course selections I asked for? Will I have enough time to get between classes? Are there good books in the library? 

And the most important question for kids... Will I meet a new best friend?

It's always been a given that the kids would head back to school at the end of the summer, and when they were bored and missing their old friends we could bring up the possibility of new friends just on the other side of the school doors. Our kids are old enough to understand. They know that somewhere in the throng of shiny new faces is a potential kindred spirit. So they are looking forward (even if they won't admit it) to the first day. But it feels like we are on hold. Like life is interrupted. Unfinished. 

And this year we have a new question to add to our list of unknowns. When will it start?

I guess we will just have to wait and see. 

Military Monday: Posting Phase Eight: The Insanity.

Not one, not two, but FIVE trucks
just outside of our house...

So I was all happily writing away at my lovely posting phases and making everything sound all organized and perfect when...BOOM. It happened. The INSANITY. Pre-pack day, pack day, load day, clean day, drive away day and suddenly I'm on the other side of the country, launching my book, shaking my head and wondering what the heck happened.

Rory the horse. Not happy with his can on wheels.

This is what it is to have a military move. Insanity. No amount of planning can prepare you for the weeks of chaos and restaurant meals and unexpected car repairs. No one can give you a list that gets you ready to put everything you own on someone else's truck (or in our case, three trucks...) and watch it drive away. And no magic number of previous moves can prepare you for that next move...because just when you think you've seen it all, something else gets thrown in to shake things up a bit.  Like having your books arrive but no shelving units. Or the lovely metal-scraping sound that appeared as we hauled our horse trailer (with horse) over some of the steepest roads in the country.

Drive thru ice-cream place in rural Ontario,
Rory was a hit.

This was our first time moving with a horse, and it added a whole new meaning to drive-thru restaurants and Bed and Breakfast lodging. 'Is hay included in the price?'--and-- 'Indoor or outdoor paddocks?' were not questions we previously had encountered when booking a move. And you think your toddler doesn't want to get in the car? Try loading a thousand pound horse that's got a bruise on his behind and is leaving his new-found best friends. Can you blame him for not wanting to walk into a non-air-conditioned can on wheels?

Bed, Bale and Breakfast in Kenaston,
Saskatchewan

Add 5000km of driving, several hair-raising turns with unthinkable cliffs on the other side, a state-of-emergency due to flooding, tornado warnings, seriously bad mosquitos (Manitoba really does have the worlds biggest mosquitos), all with three tall teens in the back seat of a pick up truck. And don't forget a hike up a mountain creek, a gondola ride to the top of a Mountain, some wonderful meals, some okay meals, some truly scary pit-stops and then end with a ferry ride...that brings us to the other side of a truly massive continent...where our house was not quite ready for us.

Hoodoos in Drumheller

A few more hotel nights, unload day (x3), unpack day (x1), a clothes dryer fire, a sewage back up in the basement (which was full of boxes), more hotel days, DEPENDENT's book launch, several formal military events (including my husband's Change of Command ceremony) and many other crazy moments that I won't mention here, and you get a brief taste of the past month.

Insanity.

And would I have it any other way?

Not a chance!

Am I crazy? Quite possibly.

But in amongst those mad moments were some truly wonderful family adventures. We stood at the top of a mountain. We went as far west as the kids have EVER been. We saw dinosaur bones, a live moose, the Terry Fox Memorial, and real hoo doos. We mets some amazing people with open arms and kind hearts. We giggled. And laughed, and joked and explored. We learned that generosity lives not in big bank accounts but in small gestures of friendship. And we did it together.

Sulfur Mountain in Banff

Move in day...

We're here! Dipping my feet in the Pacific. 

 What's insane is how well it all went. It's insane that we are here, that we drove that far with five people in a pickup truck towing a horse, and we're still talking to one another. It's insane that our travel costs were covered by the military--not all of them, but most. And it's so insane that we live here...in this beautiful town on this beautiful island. Yes, we've still got boxes artfully hidden under tablecloths and crammed in corners, and yes I'm sick of disorganization, mess and chaos...but we made it.

Together.

And that is what it's all about.


Brenda

More posting phases: Seven (look for more at the bottom of the link!)

Mistletoe Memories: Military Family

On this day six years ago I truly came to understand the meaning of the Military Family.

Picture this: You are three thousand miles away from your hometown, living in the beautiful British countryside. Your husband is at work, without cell phone. You've met so many nice people in the past three months, and are just starting to feel settled, looking forward to the Christmas build up in a new country.

The morning starts off crisp and fresh, a beautiful walk with your children to school past hopping bunnies and frost-covered holly berries. The world you live in is surreal, beautiful and foreign. Life is pretty good. You take your youngest to a routine doctor appointment, the doctor is unconcerned, runs some routine tests and sends you on your way. Then you drop her, all of five, dressed in her cute little British uniform, off at her kindergarten class. All errands completed, you settle in for a quiet afternoon of solitude, writing and laundry.

The phone rings.

You answer, still unsuspecting, and when the doctor says hello, your stomach falls.

"Mrs. Dunne? You need to go pick up your daughter from school right now. Take her directly to the hospital. Pack an overnight bag. They're waiting for you, there is a bed set up in the pediatrics ward."

Panic, fear, worry...the next hours are a blur. You try to stay strong, act like this is no big deal while you drive blurry eyed to the hospital, watch your baby get an IV while doctors and nurses rotate through, while your daughter gets her first of thousands of insulin shots. When someone finally confirms the diagnosis. When someone finally admits that this is it, there is no cure, there is no doubt.

You can't reach your husband. You try the only people you can think of to help. Your neighbours, your new friends, people you've known for all of three months.

And they embrace your crisis as their own.

Your other children? Picked up from school, fed, cared for. Your husband? Pulled from the rugby pitch by your neighbour and driven to the hospital to be with you. Balloons and books and flowers sent within hours. Phone calls of support. Cooked meals delivered to your home.

Everything is taken care of, without question or fanfare, so that you can concentrate on getting your little girl better.

This is what happened to me six years ago today. And this is, in a nutshell, what it's like to live in a military family. Your family expands. People you've never met become your allies, your friends, your family by chance. You help them and they help you.

Sure it's lonely at times, frustrating to be so far away from your blood family. The closest we will ever live to my parents is a 6 hour drive away. I miss them. I wish they were here and I could just call and ask for help, or pop by and share a cup of coffee.

But your 'military family' are there for you when you need them. Sometimes they are civilian, sometimes they wear uniforms. They're your neighbours, your friends, your coworkers. They speak different languages, come from different backgrounds.

And they've got your back. They would do anything for you in times of crisis.

I love my military family and I am so thankful for them!

How about you? Have you had a special 'military family' or other experience like this? Would love to hear your story! Drop me a comment in the box below.

Brenda

World Diabetes Day

The blue circle, the global
symbol for Diabetes

On a completely non-literary, non-military note (I know, it's been a busy couple of weeks here on my blog!)today--November 14th--is World Diabetes Day. I'd like to take a moment to think about that fact.


As you may or may not know, diabetes and the Dunne family are well acquainted with one another...our youngest was diagnosed with type 1 (juvenile) diabetes when she was 5 years old. Since that time, she has had almost 18,000 finger poke blood tests, thousands of needles, and many thousands of dollars of medication (mainly insulin) and treatment. But you know what? She's a healthy eleven year old. We've had many sleepless nights, but she lives a pretty normal life. We are blessed.

But we would still love a cure.

So today I'll be wearing blue, the color of Diabetes Awareness. Will you join me? It's pretty easy to do. Throw on your blue jeans and voila! Instant support. Tell your friends you're doing it for Kate. And then pop a comment down below to let me know that you're wearing blue today--for Kate, or someone else you know.

What does a cure for diabetes look like to my family? Check out my little VIDEO (a throwback from previous years) to see.

Brenda

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

This weekend I've been spending time with my family and an overflowing table. As today is Thanksgiving Monday here in Canada, instead of a Military Monday, today's post focuses on the many, many things I'm thankful for. A sort of blogger's acknowledgement page.

I'm thankful for where I'm from. The outskirts of a tiny town with acres and acres of old forests, imagination and inspiration. Loving parents, siblings, extended family and friends. Sure it wasn't always happy-happy, but it was a great place to learn and grow. And the foundation of what made me ME.

I'm thankful for a brain that works and the ability to support myself. I'm thankful that my job led me to my husband, and I am eternally thankful for my husband who supports me in every possible way (and who is incidentally celebrating a BIRTHDAY today...Happy birthday Tom!). I'm thankful for the children that miraculously arrived a few years later. They are amazing and loving and smart and silly and they keep my life filled with sunshine.

I'm thankful for this amazing career that popped up out of an idea. And I am so blessed that something I love doing is something I can do from here, on my mother-in-law's couch, from a small village in England, or from the top of a fifty story hotel in New York City.

I'm thankful for my husband's career, which may be the cause of many frustrations, sleepless nights and long separations, but it's also the source of exciting postings, opportunities, and a solid, dependable source of income.

And lastly, I'm thankful for YOU, my reader. It constantly blows me away that people actually read what I write. And you come back. And you comment and support and tell me stories that inspire and lead to more stories.

And for that, I'm giving thanks.


Brenda


Don't forget to like my FACEBOOK page. And follow me on TWITTER!

 

Military Monday: Careers for Military Spouses (Part 1)

Maintaining a Career

(Part one of a three part series)

After my last post, on Finding a Family Doctor, I got thinking about what other aspects of military spouse-hood are both unique and challenging. What parts of normal life-progression are different for spouses of military members?

For me, one of the top items on this list is Careers.

We move. A lot. Sometimes every three years, sometimes yearly, sometimes more than once in a year. Every once in a while, you might see more than that (I have several friends who managed to stay on the same base for more than ten years), but sooner or later the powers that be will pick your spouse for that brilliant posting and boom! Your professional life is on hold.

Pros and Cons

What makes career path maintenance difficult? What are the advantages of life in the military when it comes to employment matters? I put the subject out there on the interwebs, and got very strong and very thoughtful responses. Here's a compressed version of what spouses were saying:

Cons:

1. Most careers are not portable. It's very difficult to maintain an actual professional career path

with all of those moves. Moves tend to hit the 'reset button' for careers: putting you back at the bottom of the seniority list, resetting your vacation time to zero, and adding probationary periods. Often jobs are location specific, as well. Jennifer commented:  "I ran a very successful bar and grill taking home more money then my hubby until I moved here. Now I sadly work in a call center... I tried to open my own bar here, (but the) town council shot me down multiple times".

Along the same lines as this, some career paths (border security for instance) only work when the area you are posted to permit it, or the city is large enough to allow a market or a niche.

2. New post, new day care. Yeah. This is a whole post in itself, so I'll leave it at that. Finding a new day care = stress.

3. The job hunt process. Changes in employment rank high in the top 100 life stressors according to famous stress list makers Holmes and Rahe. An un-looked-for move involves an emotional and mental upheaval that can include:


*Leaving an old job (generally not by choice)
  *Searching for a new job: resume writing, searching the internet and a lot of unavailable time while dealing with all of the other time-consuming move items.
  *Walking into established social situations and trying to find your place.
  *Changing your schedule to meet your job requirements.
  *Rejection after rejection after rejection is hard to take. I have a wonderful friend who went from an Executive position to applying to more than a hundred jobs over several years before she found employment--and that at a significant downgrade in seniority and pay. It was a very difficult and very stressful time for her.

4. Licensing requirements change from province to province, state to state and country to country. As a physiotherapist, I know this issue quite well, and often have to weigh the benefits of having a license in the province/state/country against the effort and money required to obtain a license. This became painfully clear when returning from an out-of-country posting. I discovered my 'hours worked in the past five years' did not meet the provincial requirements. I had to write the national board exams to be re-licensed. One year, three thousand dollars and many, many stressful hours later I was able to work unsupervised again. Lets just say that the next time I let my physiotherapy license lapse will be when I retire...or my other career (writing) becomes self-sustaining.

5. Stereotypes. Hard to believe, but some employers are afraid to hire military spouses, knowing that they might move in the near future. What they miss.

6. ....And all of this happens while you are often dealing with your spouse away on training or deployment, mountains of boxes, finding a doctor, dentist, hair dresser, schools, cable company, grocery store, veterinarian and pharmacy...!

But enough moaning and groaning. There ARE some plusses to being a military spouse!

Pros:

1. Variety. Really, there's so many options for work, even within your own career path. One spouse commented: "I'm a RN and have never been without a job at each move. There's so much you can do. I've worked in small hospitals, large ones, on base. I've also taught." (Thanks Vanessa!) And another spouse (also in nursing) said: "Moving is an opportunity to try it all! Med/surg, community, OR, hospice...my resume is varied." (Thanks Laura!)

2. Opportunities for personal growth. I like to meet challenges head on. And what I personally have found is that each challenge I overcome becomes a huge surge forward on the personal satisfaction scale. Sure it's hard to find a new job, but that first pay-check feels GOOD.

3. Meeting new people. Making new friends every few years becomes a daunting task. And our

Me in the middle, with my two wonderful
(and pregnant) coworkers,
Jenny and Sara...so sad to have left that job!
We had such a great time there...

military spouse friends are often our first, and longest lasting friendships. But working allows a new outlet to meet people. It may be hard at first, as local non-military women and men tend to be skeptical of putting the effort into a new friendship, but these people are virtual mines of information about dentists, hair dressers and schools. And often these friends become lifelong connections.

4.  Military spouses are great employees. We have a lot of desirable attributes. We are hard working, we are resilient, we have great skill sets and we are often willing to put in the extra effort. If employers latch on to this, and recognize our value, they can become great assets in our career paths. And we have a lot of resources available to help us transition from place to place. Military Family Resource Centres in Canada have an entire section dedicated to Employment Assistance services. If you haven't already checked it out, you should. And there are many military spouses looking for others to network with,  and potentially hire. You can find one such group (The Military Family Small Business Association) here.

There are also many career counselling services and spouses-helping-spouses programs available for newly posted military spouses. Just a quick google search will give you a long list of available options. Resume writing, job searches, aptitude testing...government run and otherwise, there are many options available for you if you feel stuck.

4. And lastly, but certainly not least...That reset button can be a LIFE-SAVER. Wow, there have been times when I couldn't WAIT to move on to something new. Inter-personal conflicts, nasty work schedules, long commutes, stressful job situations...they all GO AWAY with a new move. Even without all of those things, a fresh new job and fresh new outlook can make a huge difference in your mental and emotional well being.

So what are your thoughts? Any other pros and/or cons of military spouse career-hood you'd like to share? Any suggestions for overcoming difficulties? Please click on the comment button and share your opinions!

Next week I'll be listing careers that withstand the military lifestyle. Tune in next Monday, or leave your suggestions on my Facebook Page! And while your at it...why not 'like' my page and get regular updates on Military Mondays and my new book, DEPENDENT, due out July 29th, 2014!


Brenda
 

Lehua Parker: One shark, No Swim Blog Tour!

Please welcome Lehua Parker, fellow Jolly Fish Press author, to the blog today! Also a busy mom, and farm owner, Lehua is here to talk about balance. Take it away, Lehua!

Aloha, Brenda! Thanks for hosting a guest post from me as part of the blog tour for One Shark, No Swim, book two in the Niuhi Shark Saga. You asked for five tips for balancing writing, family, and farm life.

With all the writing, reading, and reviewing I do, the evil truth is I have no balance. My life is all about holding up an elephant on a high wire and hoping the spinning plates don’t fall. Here’s a peek behind the stage door’s curtain.

1. Harness the Power of Minions

If you’ve done the Mom-job right, at some point, the children you’ve slaved over become indentured servants. My youngest is 13 and the oldest can drive, but not vote, so I figure I can milk this for a few more years. When they walk in the door from school, I sweetly ask how their day was then hit them with a one-two punch of, “Wow. That Monica/Michael/teacher/test sure sounds rough. Glad you handled it that way! Now I need to you vacuum the downstairs, scrub the bathroom, and gather the eggs from the chicken coop. Oh, and throw your uniform into the washer for tomorrow. Thanks, Sweetie.” The best part of this is you can claim you’re being a good overseer  Mom by helping them build character and life skills.

Bonus tip: teach minions how to cook more than microwave macaroni. Everybody wins. (Brenda note: You can microwave macaroni? Who knew?)

2. Buy in Bulk

When I know a deadline is looming and I’m going to have to lock myself in my writer’s cave, leaving my family to fend for themselves in the cold, hard world, I stock the fridge and panty like it’s the eve of the zombie apocalypse. I do things like barbecue mammoth-size packages of chicken breasts for dinner on Sunday. Monday? Shredded chicken tacos. Tuesday? Orange chicken stir-fry. Wednesday? Chicken soup. Thursday? Chicken salad. It’s going to be chicken-something until it’s gone and I have to break down and cook something else. I figure if I’ve made an effort with one part of a dinner, the rest can come out of bags and cartons. Some weeks, however, “effort” is opening cans or ordering pizza. See bonus tip above. (Brenda Note...THE CROCK POT IS YOUR FRIEND. Learn to love it and the world of the cream sauce.)

3. Get a Smart Phone

Like most Moms, my kids are busy. Fortunately, their activities don’t have to be all about them if you have a smart phone. I leverage the time spent at soccer practice, horse shows, and waiting for piano lesson to end by reading eBooks, posting on social media, and dreaming about the next plot point. Really long events like horse shows are especially good for catching up on blog posts and copy editing novels. I take a laptop and work in the stands, waiting for the 10 total minutes of a 12 hour day that my daughter and her horse take center stage in seven events. It helps if you practice saying, “Of course I saw that goal/barrel run/play/miracle pass! You were amazing! Don’t forget to feed the horses.”

4. Sleep is Over-rated

If we’re really peeking under the beds and scaring the dust bunnies, I should confess that for the last few years I’ve been an insomniac. Invariably, around 11 pm when my husband’s fallen asleep on the couch, I lie to myself that I’m just going to sit down at the computer for a minute and check email, but I really end up working for three or five hours. It’s in the wee hours that I get most of my creative writing done.

Second bonus tip: give the minions alarm clocks. Flogging occurs if they miss the bus and I have to drive them. (Brenda Note: We have a rule- miss the bus and not only do you have to call and explain your predicament yourself...you're grounded for the rest of your human existence)

5. Stop and Sample the Kim-Chee

Time with the minions is fleeting. In a few short years I know I will have to bring the mail in myself and get my own Diet Coke from the fridge. There will always be another book to read, article to write, or novel to plot. The party never ends on Facebook or Twitter or the newest must-connect social media time/soul sucking vortex outlet. Choose the moments that matter. Spend time actually watching the soccer game, listening to the piano recital, or kicking back and asking the minions about what they’re learning in history. Let them laugh at how old you are when you say I remember that while you marvel at their youth. Embrace the chaos whole-heartedly, wet dogs, missing homework assignments, stinky gym bags, first dates, driving lessons and all.

Because the truth is writers need important things to write about. See, it’s still all about me.


Thanks Lehua! Hope to see you back on the blog again soon!

Lehua Parker’s Biography

 

Lehua Parker is originally from Hawaii and a graduate of The Kamehameha Schools and Brigham Young University. In addition to writing award-winning short fiction, poetry, and plays, she is the author of the Pacific literature MG/YA series the Niuhi Shark Saga published by Jolly Fish Press. One Boy, No Water and One Shark, No Swim are available now. Book 3, One Fight, No Fist will be published in 2014.

So far Lehua has been a live television director, a school teacher, a courseware manager, an instructional designer, a sports coach, a theater critic, a SCUBA instructor, a playwright, a web designer, a book editor, a mother, and a wife. She currently lives in Utah with her husband, two children, three cats, two dogs, six horses, and assorted chickens. During the snowy Utah winters she dreams about the beach.

 

Connect with Lehua Parker

Blog & Free Short Stories: http://www.lehuaparker.com/

All things Niuhi Shark Saga: http://www.niuhisharksaga.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LehuaParker

Twitter: @LehuaParker

Email: AuntyLehua@LehuaParker.com