My Life. In Six Words.

On Monday evening I was dropping my daughter off for an extra-curricular activity at a local school. While standing with her, my eyes drifted to the bulletin board in the hall. There was a double page spread from a national paper stapled there, and a whole bunch of white paper sheets with what looked like mini-poems on them.

Intrigued, I walked over and checked it out. The article was on ‘Six-Word Memoirs’. Basically, boiling your existence into a short, six-word blurb.

The memoirs on the bulletin board were amazing…

I am a sneaking ninja. Stealthy.

Six Siblings Make a Girl Tough!

Father died young. Grew Up Fast.

Working Janitor. My ambition lacks ignition.


And on, and on. Some of them were just lists of traits…Loving, Working, Sleeping… things like that. Some of them were full sentences.

I’ve since searched the internet—turns out this is quite a phenomenon. Magazines, newspapers, and news channels across the world have done articles on the six-word memoir. There are even books on the subject. So I'm a bit behind the times.

Anyway, as I was driving home Monday night, daughter safely ensconced in her activity, my mind whirled. Could I do it? How could I turn all of the things I do into a six word bio? My life is a neverending series of hats—I wear a different one every hour.

I couldn’t get it out of my head. Even while I was falling asleep that night the words were rolling through my mind. I help. I heal. I work, play, laugh, cry, push, hold, write… I’m a mother, a wife, a physio, a horse-holder, a diabetes nurse, and a shoulder to lean on.

And then it hit me. Everything I do involves building someone else up. My success is their success. My triumph is a good A1C. An A+ on a test. A patient rolling in to the clinic in a wheel chair and walking out his own feet weeks later. A military man standing at the front of the parade. Even in writing, I just want to share. I want to make you, the reader happy.

My six-word memoir?

Success doesn’t always mean coming first.

For me anyway. My success is standing in the wings. It makes my heart sing. Yah, I might have cheated a bit with the contraction. But I think that’s me in a nutshell. I haven’t been ‘first’ at anything since high school. But I’m content with where I am right now.

What’s yours? I’d love to hear it. Leave it in the comments. Or maybe make one up for someone else you know. Give it a try.

Managing

My girl and I...overlooking the Caldera in Santorini, Greece

A few months ago I took part in an online Twitter chat with others who have/care for someone who has diabetes. I can't remember the exact topic, but it had to do with 'controlling' diabetes. The discussion was fast and furious, and in my not-so-tech-savvy way I followed along, and even commented a few times when the urge struck.

What absolutely amazed me about the discussion was how wide the disease varied. There were the Type 2 diabetics who just watched what they ate, and the 'brittle' type 1's, who were just hanging in there. How do you 'control' something that affects people so differently? How can you keep your thumb down on something affected by so many variables?

In our house, we 'manage' diabetes. There's no controlling.

It's a delicate balance. My daughter does EVERYTHING a normal 8 year old does, from summer camp to somersaults. She eats sugary foods (sparingly, but no different than our other children). She swims, she dances, she rides horses...she flies across time zones and she canoes in the back-country.

Only sometimes in 'Dunnes vs Diabetes' the balance swings against us. Thursday, for example. Cell phone rings at work. It's the school calling...daughter's sugar levels are so high the test kit won't even register them (For those who aren't familiar with test levels, that's almost 5 times normal levels). A few suggestions, and I get back to work. An hour later, another phone call. During a recess martial arts lesson, another child accidentally ripped out daughter's catheter site. No catheter = no insulin. She's already super-crazy high, so this is an emergency. Thankfully my co-workers and patients are very understanding. I drop everything at work, tear off to the school at mach 5 to remove the rest of the old site, clean and insert a new catheter. Forty minutes later I'm back at my job, and it's business as usual.

Make no mistake. Diabetes never sleeps. Some nights I don't either. No matter how perfectly we measure carbs and calculate ratios, we cannot control it. And sometimes life gets so hectic we forget something. Insulin. Site changes. A test kit. Extra juice. A hug.

So we manage.

And hope. And pray. And test, and test, and test again.

Tomorrow is another day.

The Waiting Game

Today is January 19th. In about 5 months the Dunne clan are going to pack up all of their worldly possessions and haul their little behinds to somewhere else. Possibly somewhere in this province. Possibly somewhere on this continent. Possibly somewhere on this planet.

Where, you ask? Heck knows! Your guess is as good as mine. We've known this posting was going to happen for more than a year. We kinda know where we are going. And we kinda know when. But other than prepping our house to sell (which, by the way, I'm avoiding right now by writing this blog...) there's not much we can do to prepare until we have our magical piece of paper..aka (deep reverberating theatrical voice) 'The Posting Message'. Dunh, dunh, dunh!

Patience is NOT my virtue.

I suck at waiting. Really. You'd think after 13 years as a military spouse, and seven family moves I'd have gotten used to this madness. If anything it's getting worse. I'm on the real estate websites every day. I'm searching the properties for sale in our local area. I'm researching schools. I'm cleaning out closets, going through books, weeding out the unnecessary crap that builds up in a house after a few years. I've warned, rewarned and warned again my work, kids teachers, extra-curricular activity organizers and friends. I'm sure they are sick to death of the endless mind-numbing babble. They humour me and ask socially appropriate questions--all the while questioning my sanity.

I think I could coin a syndrome here. 'Moving Madness'. "Pre-posting Parapsychosis". "Radical Relocation Radiculopathy". Or how about..

Pre-move
SYstemic
Condition of
Housing
Over-preparation

PSYCHO?

My husband is afraid to come home because he knows I'll pounce on him. "Any news?" "Any emails?" "Did you talk to anyone?" "Come look at the house I found in (insert city here)!" He has this slightly terrified, cautious grin when he comes through the door. I try hard. Really I do. But I HAVE TO KNOW! NOW!

The good news is, that when that glorious (or awful-depending on where it says we are going) piece of paper comes, I'll be ready! Pre-printed info sheets abound! The house will be ready to show! The application forms will be ready to send! I'll have the hotels selected for our house hunting trip, the houses to look at, and the restaurant for the third day's supper selected! Life will be good! We'll be moving forward!

And two years later I'll be doing it all over again!

There's no life like it.

Brenda

Blogshead Revisited

Days hubby was gone.....151

Days til he returns.....NONE!

Current Work In Progress... Editing 48,000 wd manuscript from NaNoWriMo


Well, so much for November and December. Ummm...I lost them somewhere in the snow. How is it that when life is complicated and crappy I find lots of time to blog, but when it's busy but good...? Not so much.

I could bore you with tons of details about how my wonderful hubby came home(my kids had absolutely NO IDEA until he was standing in front of them), I took part in and won NaNoWriMo (along with my three children), and had a great Christmas with family and friends locally and in my home town...but there were no major catastrophes, blood sugars stayed relatively normal (well, except for the emergency roadside site change in Montreal), and people were happy in my house. I was happy in my house. November and December were good.

Enter January.

Snow. Cold. Dark. Editing.

As much as I dislike the snowy, dark, frigid days of late January. Editing really makes me shiver.

I've been a really good girl. I put away my NaNo manuscript for almost six weeks. And now, for the first time since I did my final NaNo update on Nov 29th, I've taken it out and am reading it.

It's always a bit shocking the first time I read something I've written. I wrote that?? Me?? Cool. It's not bad! Seriously! Sure, it's not publishable material yet, but the feeling is there. My problem is taking that feeling and expanding it to something vortexy. Something that sucks you in and spits you out panting on the last page. The bones are there, but my editing skills are not. Help!!

So....instead of editing (my plan for the evening), I'm blogging. Hmmm...avoidance is the best policy. And as a working, writing, miltary spouse and mom of three kids, there's always something else to do than edit!! Laundry! Dishes! Vacuuming! Cleaning the kitty litter! Scraping boogies off the wall! The list is endless.

But those all sound too much like work.

I'd rather just sit here and talk to you.

Brenda

A Community Based on Trust.

Days since hubby deployed: 134

Days 'til he returns: currently unknown

Work In Progress: shelved for a bit, preparing for NaNoWriMo



As I write this, a sick, sick man is being tried for horrible, unthinkable crimes. Crimes committed here. Where I live, where I work. He was my husband's boss. In fact, he was the boss of thousands. And thousands more trusted him with their lives, their careers...their families. He abused that trust, using information he gathered through his power at work to stalk, steal, rape and murder. Where I live. Where I work. Where my children play. I thought he was a friend.

It's thrown me for a bit of a loop. You can't avoid the shocking testimony. It's on the cover of every local paper. On the television. On the internet. It's talked about in the grocery store. On Twitter. On Facebook. It's terrifying, sickening and it's very real, because it's right here. I keep my dog close. I triple check the doors and windows at night. Leave lights on outside. I hug my kids. I pray the time will go quickly and my husband will be home soon.

Miltary families are regularly thrown into situations where they have to trust complete strangers. We move. We rarely have extended family to depend on. Our spouses go away. Our commanders have access to information no civilian boss would. It is a system based on trust. Honor. Integrity. Respect. These are words that we live by. And this one man has threatened it all.

There are so many people I have had to trust in the past. Neighbours, babysitters, workmates, book club friends...people I've met through my husbands work, through military family resource centres, standing at kids' schools, waiting outside kids' activities. Some are miltary, some are civilian. My 'military family' includes people from across the globe. People I've had to depend upon. Wonderful, wonderful people that have listened to me when I needed a friend. Supported me. I am so thankful for each and every one of them. It's quite overwhelming to think of the wonderful friendships I've built over the years with people who started out as strangers. I hope I have been as valuable to them as they have been to me.

I debated a long time before discussing the fact that my husband was away on the internet. I didn't want to advertise the fact that he was away. Especially as his ex-boss was awaiting trial for preying on women who were home alone. But I want to share my experiences, maybe to help another deployed spouse, maybe to help others understand life in the military community.

I know this will pass. He'll be sentenced. The news will find something else new and shocking to cover. But my military family will endure. I won't stop trusting people just because of one man's hideous crimes. In fact, I will trust them more. Trust that we will keep each other safe.

Brenda

A Vacation in the Clouds

Days since hubby deployed: 122 That's four full months.

On my reading list: Actually, I'm not reading anything right now. Just finished all of Cassandra Clare's Mortal Instruments, and Clockwork Angel

Eagerly Awaiting: Crescendo. What's going to happen with Patch and Nora??

Current Work In Progress: About 17,000 wds. Sadly, I've not been at my computer much.



I am a lucky lady.

Seriously. I just got back from the absolute BEST vacation ever. 14 days of perfection. Five nights in Tuscany, two nights in Venice and seven nights cruising the Greek Islands on the Norwegian Gem. Bliss. And the best part? I got to spend the whole time with my wonderful husband! Sure, crossing the Atlantic (sans help)with my three children was a bit daunting. And the preparations required for two weeks of travel with a diabetic daughter were a little more than average...but so worth it.

We got to climb to the top of the Tower of Pisa. We crossed the Ponte Vecchio in Florence. We went horseback riding and drank locally produced wine in Tuscany(me sitting at our Tuscan villa at left) . We took a gondola ride through the canals of Venice(photo at top right), and a donkey ride up the cliffs of Santorini. And we were spoiled rotten on a beautiful cruiseship in the Aegean.

Travelling with kids may not be for everyone, but those who have read through my Dunnesinuk posts know that we are HUGE fans of it. While sitting in our apartment in Venice we were reading The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke to the kids- and realized we'd had lunch in the very Piazza that Prosper and Bo were in. So Cool. And then we revisited many of the same places Tom and I had visited on our honeymoon thirteen years before- the kids got to see it first hand.

Unfortunately, at the end of all of this bliss my husband had to board a plane going one way, and we had to board our squishy-tight and very delayed transatlantic flight going the other way. All good things must come to an end. I'm not complaining-just stating a fact. I am very blessed to have had the opportunity. My kids were OUTSTANDING travellers. Even the stewardess on the flight stopped to tell me how impressed she was with their manners and behaviour (shameless brag). I was very proud of them. And I actually returned feeling refreshed- both physically and emotionally. I loved just about every minute of our trip, but I'm glad to be home. In two and a half months we'll all be together again, and family life can restart. Well, that is until we get the posting message that's due...

Hope you all had a great Canadian Thanksgiving.

Brenda

An Ode to September

September. Oh how I love thee. Fresh apples, blazing red leaves, sweaters and wood fires...

And let us not forget...BACK TO SCHOOL! Yippee! Today I walked three children to the end of the driveway and waved goodbye. Have fun kids! See ya later! And then, joy of joys, I was alone! And even better, today is my day off! Heaven. Oh, how I love September.

I took the dog for a run, came back into my (incredibly disasterous) house, lit a candle (to cover the reek of unwashed laundry) and sat down with a cup of lukewarm coffee. The sun came out. The humid air freshened to that early-fall crispness. And now I hear the leaves rustling in the breeze. Oh, how I love September.

September is the month where I finally get to take a breather. Kids in school, summer activities are gearing down, winter activities not quite geared up yet...the heat of August is over. The bitter, hateful January cold is still far away. There are still 3 months until I realize Christmas is two days away and I'm not finished shopping/wrapping/baking. Oh, how I love September.

And this September, there is something better. A break from deploymentland. In less than two weeks the kids and I will be on a plane. To Venice. Italy. Where we will be met, at the airport, by my wonderful husband. We'll drink wine in Tuscany, walk the narrow alleyways of Venice, then hop on a cruise ship for seven days of cruising the Greek islands. Does it get any better than that?

Oh, how I love September.