A Dandelion Life

If you didn’t already know, the dandelion is the official flower of the military child. It is said that like a dandelion, our children blow with the wind and bloom where they are planted.

I like this image. I like the idea that wind, often seen as a force of destruction, also carries in its arms new seeds to new places, creating new life. It paints a pretty picture for me and it makes me feel better about our multiple relocations as a military family.

If I may, however, I’d like to extend this comparison to more than just the military child but to the military wife as well. For we, too, are blown from place to place and land somewhere new each time.

But there is more to this comparison. I have never given it much thought beyond the surface idea, but if you’ll humour me for a moment, let’s look a little closer.

There, in the middle of a healthy and thriving green lawn, is a dandelion. Beautiful, sunny, golden yellow – while many are eager to pull or mow these little gems, which I have been told are actually a member of the sunflower family, I have always thought them to have a kind of sunshiny beauty to them. The flower (for I will not call it a weed!) is strong and healthy. As it enters its more senior phase, it becomes grey and fluffy (hm…this metaphor is extending a little further than I had anticipated!). It cannot stay where it has been, for its time there is done. But the dandelion does not simply shrivel up and die – instead, it goes to seed. Then it must wait for a force outside of itself to decide when it will carry these seeds and where it will blow them. The dandelion has no say but instead it hunkers down and hangs on tight and relies on the wind to take it somewhere worth growing and blooming again.

And the wind does.

When it arrives at its new place, the tiny seed does not become a new flower right away. It must make its way to fertile soil and hope that there will be sufficient rain and sun. Much goes on below the surface of the ground that will never be visible to anyone else. Imagine the moments the seed becomes embedded in the soil, and the roots that first must grow, stretching into the earth, taking hold before you will see any growth at all upon the grassy layer. Only then, after some time and the right conditions and sheer determination, will it begin to flourish above the ground. It grows, a green stem, up to the sky as high as it can reach. A bud forms and then opens and the dandelion is once again strong and bright and yellow and beautiful.

It never knows how long it will stay there like this. It may age and mature and blow just to another spot a mere several grass blades away. This is what the dandelion likes best; to grow and truly take root again and again in the same yard. The soil is the same, the conditions familiar – it doesn’t take much effort or time for the dandelion to regrow here.

But at any time, the wind could decide that a further journey is required. And so once again she, our lovely little dandelion, must put all her faith in the winds of the universe that they know best what her journey must be. She must lay down her plan for herself and surrender herself to the powers of the wind, hoping to stay put but knowing that isn’t the life she has chosen.

And on days like this one, where the dandelion feels small and vulnerable, she must remember that she is only in the brand new phase of implanting herself into the soil. She must recall what the past has taught her: she cannot bloom above the surface until her roots are strong below her. And when the dandelion looks around the yard and sees but a few sparse companions instead of the thousands of fellow flowers she left behind, she must remind herself that each time the wind carries her far, far away, it also leaves seeds and strength and memories and lessons right where she was. And in this way, she is not only where she grows now but in every yard she has ever grown. And that comforts her although it doesn’t take the sting out of another new journey.

Our dandelion imagines her old pasture. Are the flowers there the same ones she left behind? Do they notice she is gone or has another dandelion filled the spot she once claimed as her own?

Next time you see a dandelion, before you pick it or spray it or do what you feel you must, take a moment to appreciate its tiny golden beauty and consider what has had to have transpired for it to be there, blooming in your yard, in the first place.

Take care,
Mel a.k.a the newly transplanted dandelion.

Roots & Wings

On a recent visit to the local library, I got to chatting with a sweet Mama of a baby and a 4-year-old. Our kids have approximately the same age gap between them (nearly four years) so we talked about that for a little while, and soon I found myself explaining that we are a military family and only here for two years (it was relevant, I promise). I got the reaction I usually get when I tell this to a civilian mother of young kids: the raised eyebrows and slight tilt of the head followed by some variation of, “Oh wow! You’re only here for two years? You already know that? Isn’t it hard moving around all the time?”. Now, I didn’t even catch this woman’s name so I’m not about to go into a deep and meaningful conversation about the trials and tribulations, the ups and downs, the pros and cons, of our lifestyle and, in particular, of moving around a lot. So I went with my standard response, a variation of, “Well it has its challenges, of course, but we sure get to experience a lot of different things”. I then swiftly move on to a different topic.

There are two separate and distinct schools of military wives when it comes to this topic: Those who truly love and embrace the changes, the chances to start again and again, the freshness of a new adventure, the thrill of meeting new people and setting up a new house, and the opportunities we are given by seeing and becoming a part of so many areas of our beautiful country. The other school, my school, appreciates and admires the first school. And it isn’t that I disagree…those can all be exciting. But mostly, I feel differently. Yes, there are advantages. Yes, I think it’s pretty stinkin’ cool that our kids have lived in a small military town, the agricultural prairies, a historic lake-side Ontario and beautiful, coastal Eastern city. Beaches and hay bales and trolley tours and the ocean. Very, very cool. And they will likely do exceptionally well in their Canadian Geography classes.

But what I didn’t say to Library Mama was how I truly feel:

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Packing It All Up…

As the dark clouds move swiftly through the sky out my living room window and the rain falls with increasing volume on the gazebo on the deck, I can’t help but notice a sense of pathetic fallacy. I’ve been a little storm clouds and rain myself lately.

The sky/my moods…same thing…

It’s the last night in this house. The kids and dogs are all asleep, the fridge is nearly bare, the walls naked, and boxes are in every room. Tomorrow morning the packers will arrive to finish what they began today, packing each of our possessions into a labeled brown box:

Load date: July 4, 2017
Name: Perry
Origin: Kingston
Destination: Halifax

Everything we own will soon be in our minivan or on a truck bound for Eastern Canada.

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Trillium & Lighthouses

From Ontario…

Never do I feel more like a military spouse than when I have to sell my house, the one in which I’ve lived for less than 2 years, and look for a new one in a new city, so that I can live in that one for less than 2 years.

The coming and going, the ups and downs, the adjusting and readjusting, the moving, the moving, the moving, the moving…

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: this life is not for the faint of heart. It’s not for the weak, it’s not for those who don’t want to change and grow and it’s not for those who think they’ve got it all figured out. Because if there’s one thing I have figured out, it’s that I’ll never have this all figured out.

Let’s just look at what we, and countless others, have been dealing with the past six months:

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On Being Posted.

*Okay – give me a little break. In my previously posted blog entitled “Cleavage Sweat” I opened with the statement that it had been almost a year since I wrote. Turns it to be so not true. I wrote this one three months ago and just unearthed it from my “Drafts”. So the first part of this one should actually be before “C.S.” Just keep that in mind while reading. I finished this one today as indicated by the purple font. That stuff is new.*

I found something amazing…the time to write this blog! Ha. Kind of funny. But also completely true.

First, a quick update since it’s been a while (given that all of my blogs begin with a comment on how long it’s been since I wrote I should probably just rectify that by writing more, eh?) We had a baby! Jelly Bean is now 6 months old! He’s a pretty chill little dude and we are so grateful to have him be the fourth (and final!) member of our family. Monkey adores Jelly Bean and the way they look at each other – OH! My heart.  We are now adjusted to being a family with two kids, two dogs, two cats and a fish.

Our other big news is that we are posted! If you’re one of my 12 regular readers and don’t know me or any military families personally that means that my husband has a new job in a different city. We’re off to Best City, Ontario! That brings me to the reason for this blog post.


Read more “On Being Posted.”

Calling All Military Wives!

My beautiful cousin, L, just got married to a handsome soldier. They haven’t been together too long so she was only just getting her mind around being a Military Girlfriend and now she’s a Military Wife! And the icing on the cake is that these lovebirds have just been posted away from her hometown. As we all know, this lifestyle definitely has its ups and downs. Even after 6 years of being together and 2 years of marriage, I still have a lot of difficulty with the “hurry up and wait” mentality.

What advice would you give L as a newlywed military wife? PLEASE only give helpful comments worded in a positive way. I’m sure she already knows that sometimes this lifestyle can be difficult, she doesn’t need her attention drawn to those negative aspects!

Mel 🙂


Never underestimate the value of sending someone flowers.
I’ve been having a bit of a hard time adjusting to this new life. Six weeks ago I had a circle of friends to visit, a best friend a few streets over, baby play-dates, and a generally fulfilling life both at home and socially. But now everything just seems so quiet and still. You know that cliche of crickets chirping in the silence to indicate when things are just THAT quiet that that sound is all you can hear? Some days it feels like that sound is the metaphorical soundtrack playing in the background.
My parents were just here for their first visit and it was wonderful. They were only here for a week but they did painting, housework, groceries, errands cooking, taking Lucas for walks, feeding the dogs and anything else that I asked them to do. It was great…just like living at home again where at 5:00 you ask, “What’s for dinner?” having put no thought into it yourself because you knew it was taken care of. My hubby is working nights for a military exercise right now and sleeping during the day so I doubly appreciate all the help. Needless to say after I returned home from dropping them off at the airport and the longest 2 1/2 hour drive ever (thank you, crying Lucas) the house felt bigger and emptier than it did before. After Hubby went to work the evening started to go down the kind of self-pitying path that is never good and a phonecall home to my parents just turned me into a blubbering child. But Mom’s loving words made me feel better and I went to bed happy…enough.

Today my wonderful parents sent me flowers. Flowers! Such a relatively common gesture to many people but it had such a huge impact and really picked me up.

What kinds of pick-me-ups do you enjoy when you’re feeling a bit down? A bath? Wine? A jog?


So…where am I?

Hubby was posted this year (if you aren’t military that means he was transferred). It’s been just over a month since we settled into our new digs and things are…quiet. The town we came from was small but we were settled; we had our home, jobs, friends, knew store owners, had favourite restaurants…we were content (although we didn’t appreciate that at the time). Now, here in this new town, we have our son, Monkey (soon to be 8 months old and the absolute love of our lives), our four pets (two dogs, Daisy and Tucker, and two cats, Zora and Atticus) and a beautiful house.

And that’s….it.
Oh no wait, and Walmart. We have a Walmart.

No job for me when my mat leave is done, no friends to speak of, no store owners on a first name basis (“Where everybody knows your naaaaaame….”) and no favourite restaurants. Ok that’s a lie, we do like one local restaurant. But one favourite restaurant does not a cozy home-town make.

Sometimes I envy my husband for his insta-social life. Just add coffee or a beer and voila, co-workers become friends. But for us, the wives, who keep those proverbial homefires burning (and sometimes the toast, too), we just plod along, feeling like the new kid at recess. It’s summer so play groups are slow and the ladies there already know each other. They glance in my direction sometimes cast a “hey” as they corral their plethora of children towards the swings but no one seems very eager to make new friends. It’s so junior high, this “I have no friends” business, but it seems every bit as real to me as it did way back then.

And so, at least for now, it’s just Monkey and I. We do the play on the floor thing, the go for a walk thing, the playground thing, the nap thing and the errands thing. I love that kid to death but I thought he’d be so much more useful as a tool to meet new people!!

So…what are your thoughts? Have you been in this position before? Once? Twice? Many times? Are you about to be? Let me know what you think and if you have any stories or advice! (I am, of course, assuming that someone out in cyberspace as come across this blog and actually read it…that could be too presumptuous of me but only time will tell).