Barking Mad

I Can't Breathe!

 

I was NOT going to post about this on the blog until we knew one way or another.  And I'm not going to post all the details because, well just because I'm not. I do feel like I'm walking around on pins and needles though and I can scarcely take a breath in.  I'm not exactly sure if I'm having a cardiac event or a massive anxiety attack.

Long story short, Gareth traveled to a job interview over the weekend and just phoned me, after having spent the entire morning and most of the early afternoon meeting with several people and he LOVES it!  Another big bonus of this potential position is that there seems to be a huge Ex-Pat community there (for those that don't know what that means, it's just a fancy way of saying there are a lot of Brits there and in the surrounding community...people who won't constantly ask him whether he's from Australia and who will know what the hell he's talking about when he says shedjoole and calls someone gobshite or a wanker!), which is great for Gareth. 

Don't even ask me, if they make him an offer, when they want him to start because I don't happen to have a defibrillator nearby and I'm seriously needing one right about now. 

This Friday will mark four weeks since Gareth was laid off. This will have been his 4th interview.  The others went well but no one is in a position to offer a job right now, especially in his industry.  We know that this is a relatively short amount of time to be unemployed compared with national averages, and we're aware that millions of others have been waiting months and months for a job to come around.  It makes me feel guilty to even talk about it because I don't want to come across as boastful or vain and I know that others out there are struggling with unemployment and depression and are in a very scary place.  We're rapidly approaching that place.  Gareth's unemployment benefits haven't even started yet because there is a massive backlog in Maine and he still has to go through a phone interview with a case-worker there to sort out some things and that won't happen until the second week in December.  Until then he won't get a dime of unemployment.  Although they already determined he's eligible, they have to figure out when exactly those benefit weeks will start because of the pittance of a severance he received. 

We have realistically been preparing ourselves for the worst, knowing we'll get through it, but just mentally getting ready for that wave of crap to wash over us.  I'm really trying NOT to get my hopes up.  I am.  I swear I am.  Whatever happens, in the end we'll be OK.   I just want this so badly for Gareth.   He sounded so upbeat and positive and I've noticed lately that he's been pretty frustrated and I think the reality has been hitting him pretty hard.  He's never been unemployed before and this has been a huge blow to his self-esteem, professionally and personally.  Even though it was a lay-off for purely financial reasons and wasn't because of anything he did, it still hurts. 

It's now been several hours since I originally started this post.   My sister Amanda called and when the two of us get on the phone it's never a short "Hello, how are you and the kids, OK great, talk to ya soon!" sort of thing.  She talked me down off of my ledge and reminded me that no matter what happens, we'll be OK.   Gaby can't figure out why I feel as if I'm walking around on pins and needles and all she wants is for her daddy to hurry and come home because, "Mumma, you better at playing tea party but not so good at Legos!" so at least one of us in the house has our priorities straight.  And honestly?  Gaby is right.  I'm crap at Legos!  I have no eye-hand coordination and she and her daddy build these amazing structures and lots of other things that I couldn't even begin to comprehend trying to how to put together! 

Oh and by the way...Meg got to make her first call home last night!!! Gareth was so sad to have missed it!  I can not even begin to tell you how wonderful it was hearing her voice.  There were lots of tears to begin with and then Gaby grabbed the phone and there were even more tears!  However, she sounds good though.  She's hating it a little less and still trying to figure out what the hell she's doing but she's OK.  It was such a short call and we tried to fit in so many words into ten minutes! Mine overlapped hers and hers overlapped mine in between the sniffles and nose-blowing and laughter.  Words...words of love and pride and joy!  So many words crossing vast miles and a time zone.  It was just so lovely to hear those words coming from Meg's mouth.  I'm so very proud of her.  I know this is the hardest thing she has ever done and at times she really hates it, but she's pushing through it and will come out on top!  As proud of her as I am, I love her so much more.   Her phone call was an amazing gift and I'm still sitting here replaying it in my head. 

I guess this has pretty much been a huge waterfall of verbal vomit huh?  It's the nerves.  It makes me rambly and sound like I have ADD.  Just ask my sister.  She just spent and hour listening to me say things like, "Oh he sounded REALLY positive and he talked to so many people and he said something about, oh wow, look at those damned lady bugs..."  So if this post doesn't make much sense, don't feel bad because I think Amanda's head is still spinning!  

 

Bliss

 
His name is "Little Bliss"...I didn't have anything on my own hard drive that epitomized "bliss" so I stole him from these guys... he is kinda cute! 

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I know that I totally suck lately as a blogger.  I keep saying I'm going to write more and I mean to, because there is SO MUCH I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT!  And I still want to shake things up and "go there"...but I get so distracted by everything else going on that I don't know where to begin.  Then today something wonderful happened...

I FINALLY got a letter from Meaghan!  It was wonderful and heartbreaking and thrilling and frustrating and awe-inspiring all that the same time.  I miss her so much...but I love her so much more and I am so very proud of my beautiful daughter.  This one letter means the world to me! I knew she was OK but it's been the longest I've gone without talking to Meaghan since she came to live with us more than two years ago.  Even when she was in college we would text, phone or send messages via email and Facebook.  So hearing absolutely nothing has been hard, to say the least!

She's tired.  She's worn down, empty, feeling defeated and exhausted, but she's pushing on.  She knows the first 4-5 weeks the TI's intentionally rip the kids down and then they spend the last 4 weeks building them back up so that they are on top of the world and feeling better about themselves than ever!

Meaghan said that one of the things she's having the most trouble with is trying to keep from laughing in the TI's face when they get up in her face and start yelling at her.  To be honest I'm really surprised she hasn't already!   She went on to say that she loves the physical aspect of it and how challenging it is (oh how I wish I had some of that stamina and willpower!) but she's getting tired of all the other girls in her flight, there are 47 of them, bitching and complaining, moaning and groaning about everything.  She says when they sit there and cry and complain through the drills that she just pushes on and screams.  That's my girl!

I'll try to scan the letter in a little later as she told me I could share it with you guys if I wanted to. That is, if I can figure out why the scanner isn't communicating with the computer. It's never done this before and I'm at a total loss as to why it's just started doing it this week.  There have been some other documents I've needed to scan in and it just won't work!  Grrrrrr.

However, it will be the ONLY one I'm going to share publicly (by sharing the actual letter itself, via scanning in and displaying on the blog), regardless of whether she gives me permission to share any more or not.   I'll keep everyone up to date on what's going on, but very selfishly I want to keep the rest of this story - her story, to myself and my family. 

There is so much other stuff...potentially GOOD stuff going on right now and I want so badly to share it with you guys, but we've decided to keep a couple of things very close to the vest.  Ya'll know what a big mouth I have, so you know that this is really hard for me.  I also know that none of this may transpire and even if it doesn't, we'll be OK.  I know we may have to muck through more mud and slime, but we'll do it together, as a family...the way it should be.

Finally, thanks for putting up with me and keeping me strong, and helping me stand upright when all I want to do sometimes is fall over and not get back up again.  I've been such a total flake lately and I'm so consistently inconsistent that it's a miracle anyone reads this drivel at all any more.

I've said this before, but I'll say it again - even though it's been uttered previously, it hasn't lost any of the heartfelt sentiment I say it with...

Our little family that inhabits the walls of this virtual asylum doesn't have a lot right now, but what we have in the way of friends and those who surround us with love, prayers and friendship makes us wealthy beyond measure.   We are so very blessed and for that, I am eternally grateful...grateful for each and everyone of you who have reached out in one way or another to us.  Perhaps you will never know how much it means to us and how much it matters.  Thank you.

Now that I've said all that, I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor and go up and click the button that says Praying For Anissa on my upper left sidebar.  I don't know how many of you are aware, but this incredible woman, Anissa Mayhew, suffered a stroke on Tuesday afternoon.  She is incredible and totally full of awesomesauce...so much so that I can't really touch on how great she is without writing a book.  She's touched so many lives with her candid chronicle of living with a child with cancer...a child, Peyton, who has now been happily been cancer-free for an entire year!  She's witty and brilliant and just a really wonderful woman.  You might know her from her former blog, Hope4Peyton, or her other merry troupe of colorful bloggers, Aiming Low.  Or you just might have heard about her via the Twittersphere.  Either way, could you take a second to click that button and go offer a couple of words of encouragement, support, or prayer to her family?  And if you feel led to, I know they could use a donation right now, either in the form of a gift card, or via paypal.  Information on how to do that is available via the site that button links to.

 

The Last Light

Hey, would ya look at that?  This week Sunday Snapshots is only ONE day late. Who knows, maybe by next Sunday I might actually have gotten my act together enough to post on Sunday itself!

Once a week we pack up Gabzilla (she really is being rather beastly of late!) and a camera or two and head out to a nearby beach and hike around the rocks, sit and talk and just try and decompress from the past week.   This past Sunday was typical - we were running late because of our propensity to be layabouts on the day that The Big Guy designated as a day of rest.  Or something like that. 

Matt stayed home this time and did whatever is is that 19 year old males who don't feel the need to spend time with the 'rents, do.  Please don't fill me in on what those activities might be as I'd really rather remain ignorant.  Although, when we got home, the back deck was cleared up of all the leaves and other assorted debris from Meg's last shindig before she left for BMT.  His room was also cleaned up and he had a load of laundry going.  If that's typical 19 year old male behavior I am more than happy to support that kind of thing...if it's not, then don't blow my little bliss-bubble by telling me what they really get up to!

We got out to Land's End just as the sun was beginning to sink into the western horizon so the light wasn't exactly wonderful.  Gaby was absolutely mesmerized by the noise that a large metal deck that was attached to a small island, with a single home perched on it, was making in the wind.  She was certain there was a sea monster trying to swim for the shore at Land's End and stalked around the beach trying to keep a wary eye out for the approaching monster.

Whilst Gaby and the hubby kept a mindful watch for the sea monster, I tracked the incoming fog from the ocean...

click to enlarge all photos

 

I decided that the shots of whatever the heck that pointy thing out in the distance, (I've been shooting that thing for nearly three years now and I have no earthly clue as to what it is) is, was beginning to get boring so I thought I'd head up over the western slope of the cliffs at Land's End and see if I could get some shots of the fog rolling in and ascending the cliff.  Gareth and Gaby had no desire to come with me as they were far to engrossed in the sounds the sea monster was making and Gaby was bound and determined to catch said sea monster and protect the beach at Land's End by throwing rocks into the frothy surf in an attempt to keep the beast from landing ashore!

Did any of you happen to notice the most important part of that last run-on sentence masquerading as a paragraph?  Come on, take another look...did you catch it yet?  Here, I'll help you. "...head up over the western slope of the cliffs..." 

Cliffs.  Slopes with cliffs. Sharp pointy cliffs with brown craggy rocks...slippery rocks from a Saturday spent being deluged by nearly 5 inches of rain. Moss covered nooks and crannies filled with salty sea water.  Cliffs. 

I wasn't planning on scaling to the top, but I didn't think trying to get a better vantage point along the lower side of the cliffs, where a path was still visible and other intrepid photographers had gone, was going to be such a big deal...so why couldn't I inch my way along the cliff's side?

Ha!  Using the word "intrepid" as any sort of adjective in regards to me is a joke! 

I spent more time navigating those nooks and crannies and trying to balance myself, rather precariously I might add, while futilely trying to hold my telephoto lens still while I tried to pop off a moody shot of the fog edging it's way in from the water and up the cliff-side.  The damned camera lens threw me off balance more than once.  Well it was either that or my fat ass. I tried to compensate by sticking all the junk in my trunk out a little bit as the lens and the camera pulled me forward.  Then my massive camera bag swung forward and nearly toppled me over.  I must have looked like Madea doing the Electric Slide as I tried to regain my balance! 

This is my totally non-awesome shot of that cliff from my very precarious perch...

 

But hey...I tried.  I came, I saw, I just didn't do so much of the conquering.  Although, had I slipped and fell, it would have made for pretty good blog fodder...well, that is, had my brains not ended up splattered all over the cliff side at Land's End.  

By the time I turned around and was making my way back towards Gareth and Gaby, Gareth was actually not too far away and that big vein on the side of his head was bulging which told me he'd seen my endeavors to get the shot I wanted and it was making him very nervous.  He just looked at me and said, "Bloody Hell woman, thank God you're not a wild life photographer!"   Give me time dearest...give me time!

With the last of the day's light rapidly fading I decided to get a couple shots of the statue that looks out over the bay at Land's End, and of course, some of the sea monster hunter herself.

 

Gaby wanted in on the action with the big greenish-rusty guy, so we sat her up there, where she promptly held onto her sea shell and would not move her hand from that position or let anyone hold her shell for her, no matter what we said!  And what is up with the crossed legs?  *lol*  The more I think I have her figured out, the more she confounds me...and makes me laugh!

 

 

 

After a few more shots it was time to head home and put dinner together, but not without one final stop to try and get a shot of the fog rolling into an inlet that I have been dying to get for years.  I hadn't taken into consideration all the trees that lined this inlet and there is no way in hell I would have gotten down the slope and back up again without seriously maiming myself!  How I wish those trees didn't line that slope!  I couldn't quite capture how spooky and eerie the Maine-coastal-ghost-story-vibe it was giving off, was.

 

One of these days I'm going to actually get the shot I want.  We have hundreds of these inlets, if not thousands of them.  And when I do finally get it, I'm probably going to have a massive cardiac event out of sheer shock and no one will ever know I got it because I'll either be dead or comatose. So hubby dearest, let that be a lesson to you to always check my flash cards in the event that I have a heartastroke whilst out shooting! 

OK so I fibbed.  We made one more impromptu stop along the way home when I noticed the fog rolling in across the marsh.  One last click before the light was gone altogether and my chances for the day, gone with it.  One last photo before my family took my camera strap and strangled me with it!

 

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I've gotten a couple of really touching emails over the last two weeks, since we announced that Gareth had lost his job.  I am not sure how to answer them.  A few really lovely people wanted to know how we were doing.  At this point we're OK.   Things are tight and we have no clue when Gareth's unemployment benefits will come through but we're holding tight to the fact that another job will come along in due time. Realistically we know that we're probably looking at 3-6 months and that scares me.  

My mental health care provider is willing to work with me on my bill which is a huge blessing seeing as how we only have coverage through December and can't afford COBRA after that, even with the reductions that were put into place by the government.

As far as the house?  To be honest, we don't know.  It might be futile to try and hang onto it and just hope that we have enough time before the foreclosure proceedings force us out, for Gareth to get another job.  That's a horrible thing to admit.  But the plain truth of the matter is, there is not enough money to make the mortgage payment and take care of our basic needs. 

And as far as work out there?  There just isn't any.  I hate to talk about it though because there have been some rather unfeeling people that have said to us, "Well isn't it great that Obama's plans are working and look at all the jobs he's saved and is creating!"   No, I don't think it's great.  We are surrounded by people losing their jobs and their homes and everything that means anything to them and now we're in the same boat.   I don't know a single person who is reaping the rewards of the stimulus plans.  

I know I might sound bitter, and I'm not.  Just feeling a little weather-worn and beaten.  Despite all of that, we might be down, but we are not defeated.   We'll get through this.  It may come to the point where we have to ask for help, and we'll deal with it when the time comes.  The thing is, we'll survive and we'll be stronger and better for it in the end...of that, I've never been more sure.

 

Do You Know What You Want to be When You Grow Up?

 

When I was younger, I used to sit and listen to the radio, in particular, Dr. Demento and Jim Ladd and I'd tell my mom, "Mom, that's what I want to do when I grow up!  I want to be on the radio and talk about music and talk to bands!"   I also knew, within the deepest recesses of my brain, that I wanted to write. I've been writing since before I think I was even cognizant that that's what I was doing.   I would write about anything and everything.  I used to fall asleep when I was a teenager thinking about writing about my adventures on the radio and all the bands I'd meet. 

I'm ashamed to admit that at one point, when I was maybe 13 or 14, I sent the band Styx, several letters where I may or may not have mentioned wanting to have Tommy Shaw's babies and write a book about the band.  If I close my eyes I can still see the wide-ruled paper and bright pink ink and my flowery handwriting with the curly-ques and flourishes and the "I's" dotted with hearts.   I may or may not have given each one of those letters a healthy squirt of perfume too.  

Writing, music and archery were all I thought about when I was a kid.  However, I never really paid much attention to whether I was good at any of them...well, archery I knew I was.  It took work and dedication and practice.  Hours and hours of practice, but I was damned good at it.  I wouldn't call myself a natural talent though.  As far as writing, I just knew that I loved doing it and it never occurred to me to even wonder if I had any talent.  No one could say whether I would have been any good on the radio.  All I knew when it came to being on the radio; Jim Ladd had it goin' on and I wanted what he had...a sweet gig in the studio at KMET in Los Angeles; hanging out with bands.

In between my desire to be a DJ (now we call them "Air Talent"...of course in my case, sometimes "Air Head" was more apropos!), and my goal of quite literally shooting towards a gold medal in Archery in the Olympics (it's embarrassing to admit how close I got to being able to achieve that goal, had it not been for some very poor choices on my part.), somewhere along the line I managed to derail myself.  Oh, I kept writing through it all...my journals were as much a part of my life as anything else, as well as letters to friends and long time pen-pals.

I got pregnant almost immediately out of high school, had to get married and damned if I didn't keep getting pregnant.  All those school-girl fantasies of being on the radio and being uber-cool were little more than distant memories that made me giggle, and sometimes cringe in embarrassment when I'd recall the sappy love letters written to bands.  As far as archery I never gave picking up my bow, and strapping on my quiver, another thought.  

I was raised in the Mormon church and surrounded by wonderful examples of amazing mothers.  Our Bishop's wife, Sister Neeley was "everybody's mom!"  And she was talented.  The Relief Society President was the mom of one of my close friends, Kim, and she was as gifted and wonderful as Sister Neeley.  These women were musically inclined, could sing, could out-bake anyone and held college degrees.  My own mother can pick up any musical instrument and play it with ease.  She is a gifted vocalist and I can't even tell you how many times I recall someone asking her to sing at an event they were hosting.  Pretty much anything my mom sets her mind to, she masters.  She's a brilliant attorney and decided to take up Hebrew and was able to speak fluently on a recent trip to Israel. 

All of my siblings possess at least one particular talent...some innate gift that they seemed born with and have been able to take that gift and mold their lives into something positive and rewarding using those gifts.   All three of them can play a musical instrument.  Me?  Um...I tried back when I was in the 6th grade and lets just say it ended badly.  Don't ever give your child an expensive flute without first knowing whether they can read music or not and then send them off to school to join the band and be kicked out the same day.  To this day I still can't read music and I can't carry a tune to save my life.  Imagine growing up Mormon, where singing and musical gifts are highly prized, and not being able to do either. 

When I gave birth to Joshua my world became one with a singular purpose.  Be a good mother. It seemed that was my sole purpose.  I wanted to be sure to notice and foster any inborn talents my children had but I never gave any thought to whether they would ask me, or ever wonder if I had any special talents or gifts?  Until recently, I don't think I have ever questioned whether my own children would ever think less of me if I didn't exhibit a talent of my own.  However, lately, I've been thinking about it and wondering if, when they remember me, anything will stand out in their minds, as it does mine, about my own mother, or friends' mothers...

Don't get me wrong, I think being a good mother is wonderful.  It's one of the best things you can do for your children.  However, I can't even claim to be that because for a long time I wasn't there.  Granted, the past few years I've rebuilt bridges and mended fences and have made inroads when it comes to that sort of thing, but I still feel like there's this huge gap.   I have miles of road left to travel with Gaby before I'm ready to send her off into the world and sometimes I wonder if my lack of any natural talent won't leave her feeling like her childhood was rather flat and boring? (Having a mom who can step on her own feet and trip UP the stairs doesn't count!)  Hopefully one day she'll be able to say I was a good mom and she knows she is loved and valued more than anything, but will she also be left with a hollowness because there was no special talent that I could share with her? 

I have so many memories of my mom playing the piano, or singing along with whatever was on the radio, or putting on a record (yep, an actual album, way back in the day!), of the Pirates of Penzance - the version with Rex Smith and Linda Ronstadt - and her out-singing Ronstadt.  I can also recall her ability to sew and my sisters and I all wearing handmade dresses that she had carefully sewn for us.  My own adventures with needle and thread are best left unmentioned. 

More than two decades after graduating from high school, I've sat back and looked at the lives of my friends and how they were able to mold their lives based on their God-given talents and how they've used those gifts to shape their lives, contribute to the lives and well-being of others and to give back to society.   I often wonder if it was any easier for them, being naturally gifted at something? 

Did you grow up with certain talents or gifts and were you able to build your future around those gifts?  Or did you grow up wanting to be something specific and worked towards that goal?  Do you like where you are now?

Eventually I did end up on the air.  I had a very good run for nearly a decade and worked with some amazing people.  I was mentored by the best and the brightest air and voice talents and eventually broke into the voice-over business.   Like a lot of things in life, the honeymoon ended and I grew tired of moving from radio station to radio station.  The business itself became less about the music and more about the "brand" of the corporate owners.  I spent too much time working for one of America's largest media conglomerates and I outgrew my love affair with being on the air.  When it stopped being about the music and become all about the money, I got out.

If you went after your dreams, were they everything you thought they would be?  Is the honeymoon still hot and heavy? 

I'm 41 now and I'm actually OK with that.  What I'm not OK with is that finally I know what I want to be when I grow up, but...I think it's too late.  Not only do I think it's too late, but I wonder if I'd actually be any good at it especially when so much of what I want to do revolves around being able to motivate others and speak to others when I'm in the midst of a very scary period in our lives?

How do I avoid being like that rusty tractor and bike?  How do I keep my kids from looking back and saying, "Yeah, she could have been useful, had she only done something with her life! But instead, she sat around and rusted!"

Bottom line...I want to write and I want to motivate others who have been where I am, and show them it's possible to get through it.  But how do I do that when so much in my own life is so uncertain now and my own deepest darkest fears of having to live out of our car, may become a reality because I'm not doing anything useful to contribute to my family to help get us out of this dark scary place? 

I can scarcely believe I just gave voice to all of this.  It's out there now and while I suppose I don't have to hit the publish button, I will.

I know what I want to be when I grow up...I just wonder if I'm too grown up already to actually be that person?

 

It's My Birthday and I'll Have a Giveaway if I Want to!

 

****Congrats to Elaine from Miss Elaine-ous Life!****

Email me ASAP with your contact details so I can get your gift cards out to you!

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Yes indeed, today is the day that 41 arrived on my doorstep, (at the UnGodly hour of 4:13AM this morning!), walked in with a huge smile on her face, plunked down her bags, (good grief, she has a lot of baggage, but I'll see if I can't help her be rid of some of that this year!), and announced that she was staying.  I welcomed her in with open arms, and in true fashion, she tripped going up the stairs.

Normally, I'm of the opinion that the age-old adage about fish and house-guests going bad around the same time, holds true...but there's just something different about 41.  I'm not sure what it is, but she looks like she'd be good company to have around.  Sure, she's a bit weathered around the eyes, deep furrows line her forehead, and there are a few very evident gray hairs, but something about her stands a little taller than 40 ever did and there's a look of determination in her eyes that tells me she isn't going anywhere, no matter what I throw at her.  I think she understands that this may be a tough year - tougher and leaner than some we've faced in decades, but she looks like she's ready to stand her ground and not let herself sink into the muddy depths that have lapped at her feet and threatened to pull her under in the past couple of years...when she was younger and weaker.  I think she also knows she's surrounded by a wonderful group of friends and loved ones who won't let her slip back under and into the abyss and that gleam in her eyes tells me that she'll ask for help from those people - and not fear reaching out to them, if she feels the funk settling in.  Friends defeat funk any day of the week!

Sure, it goes without saying that 41 knows she's got a long haul ahead of her.  She knows there is work to be done and it's going to be hard work.  She has fears - just like anyone else in her situation and faced with the same things she's faced with, but I think there is an air about her that is shouting at me - getting in my face and letting me know that she'll meet those challenges and difficulties head on and not be defeated by them!

41 has had a wonderful day thus far and would love the chance to make someone else happy!  So, she’s giving away a $25 Borders gift card and a $25 Target gift card.  All you have to do is leave a comment on this post and for an extra entry, Tweet about the giveaway and be sure to include @Barking_Mad in your tweet as well as a link to this post.  I’ll leave comments open until Monday, November 16^th at 10PM EST.

   

THE FINE PRINT:  Void where prohibited...which really is just my fancy way of saying that if I've had sex with you,  you gave birth to me, if I gave birth to you,  if you are a sibling (rivalrous or not), or in any, way, shape, or form related to me, nanny nanny boo boo, you can't enter the contest. Dear FCC, no one paid me or compensated me for this post, or the gift cards. They were self-provided!

COMMENTS FOR THIS POST ARE NOW CLOSED.

  

P.S. I have no stinkin' clue what happened to the formatting on this post.  I think I'm just gifted when it comes to messing things up...the same way that only I can step on my own feet, trip going UP the stairs, and manage to blow up my microwave by simply reheating left over roast beef!

Sunday Snapshots...Shadow Play

What's that you say?  Today is Thursday?  Yeah yeah, I know.  Cut me some slack...I've been trying to figure out what I really want to be when I grow up as well as suffering from "there are a million things to write about but I'm just feeling kinda blase' so I'm gonna curl up and read a few books for a few days and ignore everyone and everything and then maybe I'll feel like writing..."  Oh and I've also been working on how to break the Guinness Book of World records for longest run-on sentence, ever.  How am I doing?

The "Pink-Slip" party we started last Friday afternoon lasted well through late Saturday night, so Sunday morning I got up, not wanting to do much of anything strenuous (which included the act of hauling my big ass out of bed), and tossed dinner into the crock pot and by mid-day we were all suffering from a case of cabin fever.  So whilst the slow-cooker simmered away at supper, we packed up the camera and headed out to Ft. Popham for a mini-sunset-trek.

The light was generally pretty craptastic and I didn't get many shots I thought worthwhile, but I did get some shots of Gaby playing with her shadows along the walls of the old fort and some of them turned out pretty cute...

 

  

I had the best time continuing to sit there and watch her play with her shadow whilst I popped off the occasional photo!

 

  

 

  

After looking at these photos for a couple of days now, I have to admit that they are finally starting to grow on me.  I'm pretty fond of the color the setting sun cast on the granite walls of the fort.  I love the shadow-play element of them but at first I wasn't too thrilled with the overall quality of the photos and now that I've had a chance to sit and look at them for a while, I am actually pretty taken with them.

I did manage to get a couple of non-shadow pictures of Gaby as well...

 

 

I think the fact that she was really beginning to become irritated with me and my camera is becoming obvious in the next two shots.  I love this one because it's sort of "glowy" with the setting sun reflecting off of Gaby...

 

Gaby literally told me, right before I took this next one, "NO more picture mumma!"

 

Of course, when the chance arose to capture a near-silhouette of Gaby and her daddy, I took it!

 

When she finally made an escape from my invasive lens, I got a couple of other shots of the Ft. and the surrounding area at sunset...

 

Sunset at the bay surrounding Ft. Popham, framed by lobster pots on the shore...

 

One of the side walls of the Ft. with a lighthouse atop an island in the distance...

 

I love my Maine coastline.  I'm hanging onto it right now with everything I have.  I have a feeling we won't be here much longer, so I'm going to capture every moment that I can while we are still here, calling this place home.  I hope you guys will bear with me if I become maudlin and post an obscene amount of photos from my beloved shore.  

Indeed, we may have to move to go where the work is, but this will always be home.  A part of my soul will always remain here and one day  I hope I'll come back here to rest my bones along these waters once more. 

 

Quote of the Day - Frustration

"It is hardly possible to build anything if frustration, bitterness and a mood of helplessness prevail."

~Lech Walesa ~

**********

Yep, I'm all about the frustration this morning.  Oh and we can't forget to add in a heaping tablespoon of bitterness too!

I don't know what I did last night, but I spent a couple of hours working on a post filled with pictures (not anything earth-shattering mind you, just some pictures from the weekend), and was installing a new anti-virus suite...saved my post, backed out of my browser, shut everything down and restarted the computer and then POOF!  The post and all the photos were gone.  And I hit SAVE beforehand dammit and made sure it saved, yet when I came back and restarted everything back up, it was gone.  So I kicked the computer desk which just resulted in breaking a toenail and blood and got even angrier and took all my toys and went home. 

I can't see a connection between the anti-virus software and the post disappearing but it's a convenient outlet for blame right now so I'm taking it!  Plus, I'm using my "frustration and bitterness" as an excuse for not having a substantial post. 

In lieu of anything meaty or of substance (but then since when is there every anything of either out here?), here's a pretty picture from the weekend...I'll be back later with more...or not.  

Sunset at Ft. Popham, framed by lobster pots on the shore...

 

We're Having a "Pink-Slip" Party and You're Invited!

 

Originally, when Gareth called home last Friday, the 30th and let me know that the other shoe had dropped, I was many things but definitely not in a mood to party.  Losing his job - a good paying job in an industry that has been hit extremely hard in this recession, is terrifying to me.   I was in the car taking Matt to work when the phone rang.  I pulled over and let out a few choked sobs, wiped my eyes and listened to Gareth tell me he'd be home by early afternoon.  He had to clean out his office.  It actually took him longer than just a little while because men he'd worked with came in from field offices and various project sites around coastal Maine to say goodbye and wish him well.  I know how hard it was for him to say goodbye to so many people he'd worked so closely with.

I dropped Matt off at work and drove to the beach at Land's End.  Gaby was softly snoring in her car seat while "Whistle While You Work" from her Snow White DVD droned on in the background.  I dug my fingernails into the steering wheel and shook with uncontrollable quiet sobs.  I wanted nothing more than to punch Snow White and those fucking merry dwarves in the face!  No one in our family would be whistling while they worked because there wasn't going to be a job to go to! 

I lifted my head and looked out the windshield of the car, through watery eyes and just sat and let the tears fall down my face as the wind blew and the waves softly lapped at the shore.  I took a deep breath in and opened the center console searching for something to blow my nose into and wipe my eyes with.  All I could find were baby wipes.  Along with the tears and snot came mascara and the rest of my makeup that I'd haphazardly applied earlier that morning.  I was sure I looked scarily appropriate for Halloween Eve.

I played back Gareth's phone call in my mind, hearing his voice so broken and tearful.  I turned around and watched Gaby sleep, blissfully unaware of how her small world was changing, unbeknown to her.  A sharp pain in my chest made me wince.  I couldn't let her see me like this and I knew at that moment in time that my own attitude would go a long way towards determining how our family responded to and dealt with this crisis.

I sat up straight, undid my seat belt and slid quietly from my seat so as not to wake Gaby.  As silently as possible, I shut my door and walked to the front of the car.  I slid my arm carelessly over my face in an attempt to brush away the tears and then looked up at the sky. I don't know if I was praying, or talking to the Universe or just verbalizing my fears out of earshot of Gaby...but I do know that I gave myself 5 solid minutes to freak out, to worry, to panic, to give the fears that were rolling around in my head and sitting on the tip of my tongue an escape route because I knew that airing them around those I needed to be strong for wouldn't do anyone a damn bit of good.  One of my biggest fears is not being able to go to Texas in January and see Meg graduate from BMT.  But we'll deal with it. 

I stood for a moment longer and let the wind dry my face and inhaled deeply - the perfume of the ocean which is always so calming to me.  I closed my eyes and just listened to the sounds around me...the wind in the trees, the shore birds calling to one another and the waves breaking on the rocks.  I let these sounds sink deep into my soul and center me.  I took strength from my surroundings and thanked God and the Universe for leading me to a place where I could find my footing and regain some composure.  I said a silent prayer for the other men and women who had lost their jobs along with Gareth that day, including Gareth's boss, the Vice President of the company.  I hope that favorable winds are blowing their way.

I got back into the car and grabbed my cell phone and opened up the Note Pad application and started making a list of things that would need to be done immediately.  Phone calls that would have to be made, a list of people to email, and then I sent a brief text to family letting them know what had happened.   I hadn't intended on letting Meg know that Gareth had lost his job.  She knew that his company had already been through two severe rounds of layoffs, but as far as she was concerned, we had been told his job was secure...as secure as it could be in this economy.   In the end, because Matt was with me when the call came in from Gareth, I decided it was best not to hide it from her.  I just didn't want to worry her when she was so close to leaving for BMT.  In the end, it only drew her nearer to us in ways which are hard to describe.

Since Friday so many unexpected things have happened. We've discovered that the professional community which Gareth is a part of reaches out to those in need and has helped connect Gareth with others in positions to either network him with companies looking for professionals like him, or with headhunters who are familiar with his specialty and certifications.  We've realized that as individuals in our family we are capable of a lot, but when we pull together even tighter, there isn't anything we aren't capable of.

Yes, things may get tough for us for a while.  Yes, we are going to have to make some major changes in our lives, one of which is probably going to mean moving out of Maine.  Interestingly enough the areas where jobs in Gareth's field are plentiful are in places like Alaska, Hawaii and Texas.   We'll go where the work is, no questions asked.  We know that when all is said and done we may have to up sticks and start over somewhere else.  But ya know what?  We'll do that!  And we'll be OK doing that...so long as we're together as a family and facing whatever challenges lie ahead of us, as a family, we can, and will, get through this. 

So tomorrow, in light of recent events here at the asylum, we're going to be throwing a Pink-Slip party and ya'll are invited to come, even if it's only in spirit.  There will be much baking and merry-making and I promise to not punch any Disney characters in the face! We're also going to be drowning our sorrows in buckets of Pink Slip Lemonade!

In the end, we are stronger than this and whilst we haven't landed on our feet yet, we will land.  It might not be a soft landing, but however we land, we'll pick ourselves up, brush ourselves off and move forward.  Things may indeed get worse before they get better...but the point is, they will get better and we will come through this intact, stronger as individuals and much stronger as a family!

 

Leaving on a Jet Plane...Part III - And She Takes to the Air!

Here we are...there she is.

We made it through Meg's departure for BMT (Basic Military Training) with the USAF.  The past couple of days have been more hectic than anything I can recall in recent months.  Even more so than last year when she left for college.

There was so much that went into this moment for her, but I'll start with the last 12-24 hours leading up to her getting on the airplane and flying off into the wild blue yonder.

Monday afternoon Meg had to report to her NCO's office for her last DEP (Delayed Entry Program, which she was part of) check in.  Sgt. Lebreck prepared her for the hell that the first few days of BMT were going to be like.  He also spoke directly to us and warned us to just sit tight because we wouldn't hear from her for the first week to 10 days.  She was going to have to earn the privilege to call home and with that phone call would come her address, where we could write to her.  

Sgt. Lebreck also told Meg that her first day there would be one in a string of about three weeks of solid hell, but would probably be the longest. 

 

From Sgt. Lebreck's office we had to take Meg to the hotel she was required to check into the night before her final processing and swearing in, at the Portland MEPS office.   We spent the evening with Meg, Matt, Meg's boyfriend Tyler and her best friend Chris.  She had to be back at the hotel by curfew, so after dinner we dropped her off and told her we'd meet her at the MEPS station early the next morning.

We texted for a while until she fell asleep. I didn't think she'd get too much sleep and either did she but she ended up being able to sleep from about 11PM until the MEPS guys came and woke her up at 4AM.  I got up at 4AM as well because I couldn't sleep for thinking about everything she was going through.

All of us (Gareth, me, Gaby, Matt, Tyler and Chris) showed up at the MEPS station around 8AM and were waiting for her to finish security processing and for her name to be called for her "official"  Oath of Enlistment.  It differed from when she swore in back in May because this time because back then, she was simply swearing into the DEP (Delayed Entry Program) and not signing her name in blood so to speak.  Technically, anytime between then and now she could have walked away from the USAF with no issues, however yesterday once she signed her final contract and then took her Oath, that was it.  She is now technically and literally property of the United States Government.

All through the day I would watch Meg's best friend's face, off and on.  He's next to go into the USAF.  His ship date is January 19th.  Chris is a very unique and special young man.  He's become like an older brother to Meg, although they are the same age.  Where one is, you'll often find the other.  He's been a constant around our house over the last few months.  Gaby refers to Chris as "My bruver from anuver muvver!"  He's got a younger sister who's just a year shy of Gaby and I really love listening to him talk about his little sister, Abigail, and watching his eyes light up as he talks about this or that - that she's done lately.  I can imagine how hard it's going to be for him to say goodbye to her, as it was for Meg to hug  Gaby goodbye...but I'm getting ahead of myself.

The earlier part of yesterday at the MEPS station was pretty much nothing more than "hurry up and wait" as Meg's flight time got bumped back from 1:10PM to 4:10PM.  

Tyler and Meg, just hanging out and waiting at the MEPS visitor area...

 

They finally called Meg's name and asked for her and her guests to go to the Oath room where we were able to watch her be sworn in...

 

 

  

 

 

Once she was sworn in they let the parents of those who were shipping out take our airmen outside of the MEPS center to get some breakfast and just spend some time with them before they were due to go through their travel briefing at 11:45AM.  We took the kids down to the wharf along the Portland waterfront and had breakfast.  I'm so grateful for those extra few hours with our girl.  I know that her flight being pushed back made her day even longer, but for those of us who were there with her, we will always cherish those last few silly and precious hours before she took to the air.

After breakfast we dropped the kids off at the MEPS center and told them we'd meet them at the airport.  Meg forgot to pack a towel with her stuff and it was one of the items she was told to bring with her to BMT.  So we ran back to the house and grabbed a towel and by the time we were done she was already at the airport.

One of the benefits of having a child who is now referred to as on "Active Duty" (I will admit that just saying those words takes a little getting used to), is that we were given security passes at the airport to wait at the gate with Meg.

It was a little surreal, sitting up there with the families of other kids getting ready to ship out.  All of us were pretty subdued.  I sat back as Gaby played with her posse of Polly Pockets and watched the other families talk quietly with their own airmen, or new Naval trainees (I don't know what the rest of the branches of the military call their new recruits), Marines and Army recruits.  One Navy recruit in particular had about 10 family members with her.  I watched as she'd scoot in close to a family member and snap a picture with them on her Blackberry.  I'd watch the grandparents of another new recruit quietly tell stories of their own time during service to our wonderful country.  I sat and intently watched the father of one of Meg's fellow airmen, dab his eyes as he looked on with pride at his son as he followed in his footsteps.

I watched Meg closely.  I followed her gaze as she'd look at her twin brother, or I'd catch her eyes well up as she watched Gaby play with her toys.  She'd look up from time to time and catch Tyler watching her every move.  I watched Tyler try to reign in his emotions and be strong for his girl...this woman he loves with all this heart.  I scanned Matt's face and watched the tears flow anew as he'd look at his twin sister.  This has been particularly hard on Matt.  He's so proud of his sister but yet misses her with an intensity that's hard to describe. 

I captured a few moments of the "waiting" as we all sat and counted the minutes until her flight number was called to board. 

 

Most of us were on our cell phones, updating Facebook, or Twitter, or texting one another.  I was trying to write down some of the feelings I had as I watched this young woman before me morph from the little girl with long pony tails who loved to chase her brothers with frogs and bugs, into the headstrong teenager who claimed to be a tomboy but whose love of makeup and perfume and body lotion is legendary, to this young woman who now sat before me - this butterfly about to spread her wings for the first time and prepare to show the world her beautiful colors.  I found words hard to come by.  So I just captured moments here and here of these jewels in my crown...my children.

 

 

 

 

Then it happened.  Her flight was called and it was time for hugs, kisses, promises to write, wishes of good luck, and final words or encouragement and support.  And tears.  Oh how the tears flowed and flowed.

I hugged her close and told her how proud I was to call myself her mother and that for every moment of struggle we'd had, those were eclipsed by the moments where I could burst at the seams with pride for my gorgeous girl. I kissed her cheek and told her to go and show the world who she was.

I cried as I watched Gareth's eyes fill with tears as he told Meg to g'on, make herself proud and do her best and he embraced her.  Despite being her step-father, he considers Meg his daughter.  He loves her as if she were his own and as I watched him hug her, I filled with an ever-deepening love for this man. Step-parenting is hard.  It's oh-so-very difficult at times.  He's done a keen job of perfecting the art of parent and friend to her at the times she's needed it the most.

Watching Meg say goodbye to Tyler was hard, but probably not as hard as it was for them to experience it. 

 

And then before I knew it, Meg was standing in line, ready to board the plane.  So many thoughts and emotions swirled around in my head. The tears flowed freely as I'd given up containing them and trying to hold them back.  I could hear Gaby softly crying behind me and calling out Meg's name.  I watched Tyler stick his hands in his pocket and pull his chin up...being strong for his girl. 

 

Meg turned around one last time, waved at us and then she was gone, down the jetway.

Matt held Gaby as they watched the plane through the window.  I could see his shoulders shake as he cried.  He pulled Gaby close and together they watched their sister prepare to head off into the blue skies overhead for adventures unknown.

 

Gaby stood up and walked towards the window and watched as her sister's plane pulled away and prepared for take off...

 

...And when she turned around, my heart broke for her, into a million tiny pieces...

 

I pulled Gaby close to me and told her that very soon, we'd see Meg again and we'd be so proud as she marched in front of us, at graduation from BMT in January. 

We stood and watched as Meg's plane ascended into the clouds until we couldn't see it any longer and then I hugged Chris and Tyler and told them to come by for dinner soon and then they left, with Matt in tow, to go and play some pool.

Gareth and I each took one of Gaby's hands, and left the airport. 

We came home, went about our evening, put Gaby to bed, talked to Matt when he came home, and then tucked in for the night.  The last thing we were expecting was to be awoken out of a dead sleep at 4:30AM by a call from  Meg.  Gareth picked up the call and the first thing I heard was Meg's voice as she said, "Hi Dad..." followed by an intense amount of yelling in the background by the TI (Training Instructor). 

For some reason she was allowed a phone call home, something that's not always the precedent on a new trainees first day of BMT, to give us her address.  We could scarcely hear her for the yelling by her TI in the background.  I wanted to reach through the phone and slap that woman and tell her to shut the hell up so I could hear my daughter.  Gareth got most of the address, or at least tried, amidst the non-stop yelling, and then that was it.  She was gone.  I doubt she'd been to sleep since landing in San Antonio, at Lackland Air Force Base. 

I miss her.  Oh how I miss my girl.  Despite the ache in my heart at her not being here, there is this swell of pride and love for her and for the woman she is going to become.  And for as much as I miss her, I love her so much more.

 

Quote of the Day - Letting Go

 

Meg boarding the plane bound for Lackland Airforce Base in San Antonio, TX.

 

"Letting go doesn't mean we don't care.  Letting go doesn't mean we shut down.
Letting go means we stop trying to force outcomes and make people behave.
It means we give up resistance to the way things are, for the moment.
It means we stop trying to do the impossible--controlling that which
we cannot--and instead, focus on what is possible--which usually means
taking care of ourselves.  And we do this in gentleness, kindness,
and love, as much as possible."
  

~Melody Beattie~

********

The past couple of days have been non-stop movement in preparation for Meg's departure for BMT (Basic Military Training) down at Lackland Air Force Base in san Antonio, TX- with the USAF.  Today was the culmination of more than six months preparation and waiting.  It's been a long day.  Meg's started at 4:30AM this morning and probably won't end until well after 12AM Texas time. I can never remember which time zone Texas is in, despite having lived there!

I got up at 4AM this morning because I couldn't sleep for being excited, and anxious and nervous for my girl.  The rest of the  family has been up and going since about 6AM and we're all completely spent...emotionally and physically. 

I'll post Part III of "Leaving on a Jet Plane" tomorrow when my eyes aren't so puffy and I've had a chance to sort through all the photographs and decide which ones I want to share and which I want to hold close to the vest. 

Hard to believe today is here and just about gone already.  Letting go and letting Meg fly was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.  However, there's no looking back, only looking forward to all the wonderful things this amazing young woman is going to do with her life.  I've never been more proud to be a mother...her mother!