Audrey writes from the heart as she shares a look at life inside her British-American family which includes four kids ranging in age from 4 to 20, and their three feline "kids" who fancy themselves rulers of the universe. Audrey also writes very openly about the loss of her oldest son, Joshua, who died at 2 years of age.
Audrey shares, very candidly, her struggles as an obese woman who has been coping with, at times, debilitating depression and anxiety.
...did I think that a daughter of mine this particular daughter of mine, who loves everything pink, princessy, girly and pretty, would take a worm she was handed by a little boy and actually hold it. In her hands. Of course, she was totally cool with it until it moved and when it moved, that's when I got this photo with my stupid smart phone.
We spent the day out at Lake George on Saturday with good friends, before Hurricane Irene hit our neck of the woods and turned us into the flooded mess we are today.
Of course, had this been my other daughter, she would have asked me how much I was willing to pay her to eat it. It figures!
...who, after a year at a pricey private college, decided that asking her parents to pay another $50,000.00 a year for tuition wasn't cool and didn't want to take out a loan; so she decided to join the United States Air Force and let the government help her pay for her education.
Now we all probably know that that the gorgeous girl I'm talking about and the one pictured above, is none other than my amazing daughter, Meg. If you're new to the Barking Mad asylum, to bring you up to date; once Meg finished BMT (Basic Military Training, AKA, boot camp!) and tech school, she was sent to her permanent base over in the UK. From there she is working and awaiting her deployment to the middle east.
Fast forward to the last two months...having my eldest daughter so far away has been, well, hard. Really hard at times. Especially when you get a call in the middle of the night and said daughter is so high on pain medication that she's singing everything to you. Almost two months ago, Meg was babysitting for one of her Sergeant's and face-planted into the metal bars around a trampoline she was jumping on, with the little ones. She broke her nose and tore her face up. Thank God and grace that she didn't send me this picture right after she took it, which was two days after she broke her nose...
I got the above photo about four days after the trampoline incident. Had I gotten it immediately I would have hijacked a plane just to be there for her.
Two weeks after she had the run-in with the trampoline, she got into a near-fatal car accident and couldn't even be removed from the car until the Jaws-of-Life were brought in and she was cut out of the car. She was pretty bruised and broken in places but has recovered very well. That was about three weeks ago.
There is nothing like not being able to be there when one of your kids is hurt. It hurts a mother's heart in an almost indescribable way. Meg and I have grown extremely close in the last three years and hearing her sob, in pain, on the phone after her accident, was nearly too much for me.
Now, a few weeks after the car accident, Meg is feeling well, working and apparently, despite some very serious security issues in Europe which have affected every American military base over there, (which she wasn't permitted to go into), my gorgeous girl is still having the time of her life over there! She sent me a couple of photos taken with her cell phone and despite being forced to wear her complete "battle rattle" (that's what they call it when they have to completely kit-out in metal-reinforced battle gear, weapons, etc.) for 18 hours a day due to the earlier mentioned security issues. I don't know about you, but I happen to think she's still one of the most gorgeous women ever, even in all her battle-rattle! And that smile? That smile is so freaking brilliant it could melt an arctic glacier!
Of course, this next picture, which isn't the greatest quality, brought back the stark reality of exactly what she's doing and what her job entails. Seeing my little girl (she'll always be my "little girl" much the same way Gaby will always be my "baby."), toting a massive machine gun that's nearly as big as she is tall, well, it was just a huge reminder of just how much my daughter, and all those other hundreds of thousands men and women who serve in our military are willing to put on the line so that we can all rest a little easier.
That's my girl standing there with that big gun, standing ready to protect all of us against the boogey-men of the world. Remember her the next time you think Freedom is really free!
Woahhhh...that's my girl standing there with that big , BIG gun!
**********
I know I've said this a million times, "four" is really kicking my butt. Sometimes though, Gaby says something that is way beyond her years and kicks me off my "mommy mountain" whilst she's at it.
We had been asking her to pick up some toys for the better part of an hour. I had reminded her for the umpteenth time that I would take the toys away, for a week, if she didn't pick them up. Once again, she lollygagged and played and wasted time. Frustrated, I stood up, put my hands on my hips and said:
"Dammit! Just pick up the toys once and for all!"
Gaby immediately stood up, placed her own hands on her hips, looked me dead in the eye and replied:
"That's not my name! That's not even how you spell my name! That's spelled D A ....M I T! Mine is spelled G A B Y!" She had to pause to sound the word out, in her head.
She had me there. Her name in fact is not "Dammit." I had to leave the room at that point and bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.
**********
When I originally sat down to write about losing our house via a "Deed in Lieu of Foreclosure" process I was very aware of some of the flack I might catch for that post, especially considering that I know what all of these homes that are going to, and have been, flooding the market are going to mean to those of you who have managed to keep it together, and beat this economy. I know that it's going to do nothing for the value of your homes. There were a couple of comments reflective of that sentiment and several more emails.
I originally thought I'd apologize to those people who left me those kinds of comments, or those who called Gareth and me, "deadbeat homeowners" via email. However, I'm not going to. Gareth and I did not take out a mortgage knowing we couldn't afford it. We didn't live beyond our means. We had a very nice cushion in our savings account, and never could have imagined the sequence of events that would take place and wipe us out; financially and emotionally. Life happens. My family is not solely responsible for the real estate market crash, or the downturn in the economy. I don't think I need, or owe anyone, an apology.
What needs to be said though is a huge "Thank You" to all the other people that left comments which expressed the fact that they understood that "life happens" and weren't seeking to cast us in the role of the bad guy and saw that I just needed to pour this all out. This is not an easy situation to be in...for anyone. So many of us, myself included, spend far too much time casting aspersions on those around us - people we don't even know - and judging their situations without even having the slightest idea of what they've gone through or what led them to be in the awful place they're in. We make assumptions based on what we read or what little we know, when in truth, the little bit we do see, is only the surface.
Thank you so much, to those of you who took the time to read that post and see how utterly devastated we are, and reached out, via your comments, emails, texts and in a couple of cases, phone calls. Thank you for trying to see beyond the surface and realize that we aren't bad people, but simply a family who had a tsunami of crap nearly drown them and as a result, lost their home. We are but one in probably thousands of families who have lost their homes over the last two years.
When Meg called yesterday to tell me what was going on over there, I couldn't help but start to tear up. Hearing her voice brought back a lot of good memories of the house. She'd read the post and she already knew what was going on. Meg said, "Awwww mom, don't cry. We're all gonna be back in Maine soon enough and you'll be bitching about my perfume and boyfriends in no time, and then we'll be back out on the beach during a Nor'easter, laughing at the wind and then running for Dunkin Donuts to get a coffee so we can warm up! Cheer up mom! I love you!"
When we got off the phone I sat and watched some videos we shot back at the old house. I smiled despite the tears and then thanked God for blessing me with such an amazing kid!
Because I'm feeling like reminiscing I'm reposting a video out here of the night we hosted "British Night" at our house and Meg invited some of her friends over for curry and some other"unusual"food.
The original post is here. Oh and please ignore the house and crappy paint job in the background. We were in the midst of repainting the kitchen when we hosted this dinner.
Some people like to combine all of their morning tasks into as easily manageable a routine as possible and that might include brushing their teeth whilst showering. I've even heard of some people who shower with their dogs too, in order to get Rover clean all over. To me, that might be taking time-management skills a little too far. Besides, there are just some things my pets do not need to see; me in the shower is high atop that list!
I'm as eager (but hey, I have my limits...like I said, Rover will not be letting Calgon take him away anytime soon, at least not in this house!), as the next person to exercise my multitasking muscles. However, when I'm in the shower, I have a system which includes the basics...getting clean and occasionally running a razor over the bits that need deforestation. Adding anything else to this daily routine is just asking for trouble.
Sometimes though, allowances must be made when situations crop up and those "situations" can not be encouraged to budge.
In this instance, we've been forced to alter our showering habits because of a "situation" that absolutely refuses to be moved, and if moved by force, will almost immediately return to where it was happily "situated" before being so unceremoniously relocated. Because of this, we now brush our teeth in the shower...
I just hope that I don't accidentally end up shaving my teeth and brushing my legs!
