The Canadian Armed Forces is moving into another season of more frequent deployments. At least, that’s what the news is making us think. Not that deployments ever stopped being a thing, but it looks like they might happen a little more frequently for a larger number of the Forces than has been the case the last few years. Or not. I mean, if the army has taught me anything it’s we’ll see when it happens. Either way, there are several friends of ours who have see you laters happening this summer. Since for Dh we are very much in a holding pattern deployment wise, just waiting for a phone call that may or may not come, I find myself feeling a little helpless as I watch other families prepare. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like we are on the sidelines to a deployment. So I decided to make myself feel useful by putting together some care package gift baskets. I figure there are some things that a little too much experience in deployment has taught me can be helpful to have. More than anything, though, it’s just nice to know someone is thinking of you, and that’s the point more than anything else. They may never need a candle, but they’ll remember someone took the time to put something together to acknowledge things hurt sometimes. Using some hints from Jo My Gosh, who has an amazing number of crazy creative care package ideas, I put together a list of things that I thought would be helpful and I set out to the store. Admittedly, I started at the liquor store. I grabbed a bottle of red for the center of…

  Canada Day is coming. I admit, sometimes I struggle with how to celebrate with my kids. I don’t really like the crowded festivals and the logistics of cramming into a space on a parade route, but we usually do every year because, you know, it’s Canada Day and I’m not a total jerk. I’m not sure, though, that those parades, the same ones that we have for St. Jean Baptiste day or Stampede or Christmas, I don’t know that they teach anything about Canada except that here, we really like to ride old cars slowly through the streets and throw candy. But really, is there anything more we need to know to celebrate Canada? This week my 10 year old daughter started reading “I am Malala.” It’s been eye opening for Drama, a girl who’s been raised in a home without want, who has gone to school without a second thought and who has never had to experience a fear for her own life any greater than that of the occasional harmless spider. Now Drama and I are both early morning risers, I’m generally up before 6 and she’s always up shortly after. With 3 other kids in our house this summer our early mornings have offered us some often scarce alone time to chat. Lately, we’ve been talking about the book and why Malala’s experiences are so much different than hers. What every one of her questions have boiled down to, in the end, was this one: “Why does nothing like this happen to me when I go to school?” “Because you were born in Canada, and Malala, she was born…