Usually when I’m asked to speak somewhere or write something, it’s to give insight into the lives of Canadian Forces families to a culture that doesn’t know a whole lot about them. Or what they do know, they see on the news or on Lifetime, a jaded, spun and less than realistic portrayal of a life. Many many days, the military plays very little role in my day to day activities. I get up, I go to a gym in my (civilian) community. I get my kids off to (a civilian run) school. I go to work. I happen to work on the base part time, so that part is a little skewed. But then I come home. I take my kids to Jiu Jitsu at another off base gym. I clean up and watch Netflix. I start over. So while the undertones of my life have been set by my spouse’s employment (I live where we were told, not where we choose. I sleep alone though I’ve been married 14 years), for those mundane daily activities we’re not any different. We’re average. My spouse, though in a combat trade and on his 4th deployment, has never been wounded, emotionally or physically. We walk through life like everyone else. Except we don’t. Not always. And there are times of year where the military stops being one of those quiet sideline participants and starts screaming for center stage like a tantrum throwing toddler. That’s the season of life we are in now. And I could yell from the rooftops that the military is ‘just a…
Last night I looked over at DH and said “I have nothing to write on my blog. Possibly ever again.” He said “I’m sure you’ll learn something from this”. I said “Screw you I will not. There’s nothing to learn. Just shut up.” Which is what I do when he says things that are true. Since the last time I wrote, we moved across the country. There’s plenty I am sure I will write about the amusing anecdotes of our driving across Canada and the northern US on the way to our new home. Our fifth night after leaving the house, I was annoyed with Freckles. He wasn’t eating his meals. Now, my kids are picky, obnoxious eaters who eat next to nothing. I am judged everywhere I go (mostly by myself) for their lack of eating. So as we start on our trip, my one child who has almost started to eat like a normal person, won’t eat. Then, one night looking at him while visiting on our trip with my parents, I realize something. He’s trying so hard to act okay, he’s such a happy kid, I didn’t even think. He’s hidden every other symptom but the truth is, well… He’s sad. Sad enough that he hasn’t realized it, but he doesn’t feel like eating because of it. And two things hit me. The first is that when you realize that what your child is doing is not defiant or obnoxious or spiteful or lazy but a symptom of his overwhelming sadness….. It’s…
– One who rarely drinks should not take an ativan before an early morning flight, eat nothing all day then grab a couple glasses of wine and questionable calamari unless one would like to be vomiting in the bushes outside the Eastside Mario’s at 11pm. Happy 11th Anniversary, babe, I thought for good measure I’d make you hold my hair like we were 17 again. – Living in a city on a lake means beautiful views, amazing weather and absolutely no chance of me having a good hair day for the next 3 years. 12 hours in the city and my hair sprung out in curls no chi iron will ever hold down. – This was the first time since Freckles was born almost 10 years ago that DH and I have been alone for more than one night. All the good intentions in the world aren’t getting me up in the morning to run during that. The alarm went off each morning and every single time finding DH in the super huge king-size bed and cuddling back for a few more minutes sleep next to him seemed infinitely more appealing. At the time I felt guilty. I got over it. Now that we are back to life I am so glad I did. – I have been spoiled by rental cars, heated seats and climate control. My 2002 Winstar with the broken key fob and the back gate that only occasionally unlocks just isn’t stacking up anymore. – I am completely and hopelessly in love with the man who still opens my car door, holds my hair back when I’m sick in public and instinctively takes the side of…
