The honest to God truth is things could be much worst.

We could be out on the street with no air conditioning, no running water, and no food. 

I guess, to be homeless, we actually have it pretty good and we are fighting like heck just to keep it the way it is right now...

So, “How did we get here?”

Because I am a human being, and no one is perfect, I want to you to keep an open mind and not jump to judgement.

I judge myself everyday for getting us in this situation. And I have also learned that judgement gets us absolutely nowhere, so just—shhhhhh. 

Listen. Open your mind. Open your heart…and have some compassion as I try to explain just how we got here.

So, the short answer is dreaming big, low wages, bad decisions, desperation, depression, grief and just plain bad luck.

The long answer begins quite some time ago where I decided that moving to Florida and working for the theme park industry was going to save us from small town Louisiana life.

Just 2 days after my third son was born, we loaded up our family and moved to the Greater Orlando Area and moved into a three bedroom apartment here with absolutely no furniture other than a baby sized mattress, a little infant sleeper, and a sleeper couch we purchased at Ikea.

We had toys for the kids, computers for us, and some dishes and clothes. That was it. Our huge apartment was empty and bare.

But we were excited! We had moved to this big city of opportunity. My husband had a salaried job, we were just a few miles down the road from Disney World, and the sky was the limit. I ended up getting a part time job while I waited to make the list for what was then my “dream job” at a local theme park.

We were going to give our kids opportunities that we never had. 

I had painted this place as a place of magic and wonder. To me, it had all the answers and excitement I longed for. 

But then things got really hard, really fast.

My husband’s job started to take advantage of his salaried status and were forcing him to work overtime hours and use our personal vehicle to transport their products, he was always running late getting home which was causing me to run late to my part time job.

There was no way to work the same hours, because we couldn’t afford daycare for all the kids, so we never saw each other.

He was miserable, I was making bad choices, and it just came down to the only thing making sense was him quitting and me pursuing my dream job at a local theme park full time.

We weren’t going to make a whole lot of money, but he would be able to watch the kids and save us from paying for childcare, and I was going to work at the place of my dreams.

Even though it was the job of my dreams, my pay was horrible and we were having a hard time paying rent on time while still feeding our family. We had just one month left in our lease when we got an eviction notice and had to abandon our lease and move into a hotel.

This was our first spout of homelessness.

This is one not even my parents know about. (Well until now they didn’t).

We moved in this hotel that was an extended stay and had weekly rates.

The weekly rates were just under what I was making weekly at my new full-time job, but we were hopeful and I was determined to make it.

There were many days were I would run out of gas just trying to get to and from work.

Until we were approved for food stamps our food choices were very limited. I remember eating peanut butter and jelly a lot and one night I made applesauce cake in the microwave with applesauce and pancake mix we had got from a food pantry.

My son Gabriel was still in diapers and one day we ran out of diapers and money, so I used one of my pads (sanitary napkins) and my other sons underwear and made a makeshift diaper.

I had to take out a few payday loans to get us by, but things were going well at work and after just 90 days I had made trainer, and I was on my way to teaching classes and becoming a part- time leader. I had a future and I was going to pull us out of this. I knew I was.

And for a little while, I did.

We found an apartment complex that had a $99 move in special, and by the grace of God we got approved and moved in.

That first day in the apartment we all stood at the kitchen counter and ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Levi said that he had never tasted better.

Things were looking up.

I loved our new apartment. It was on the second floor and the kitchen nook windows were covered by this beautiful tree that left the coolest shadow on the wall during the day.


With our tax return we were able to buy some furniture and we had a bed and a couch and it was becoming home.

The boys made some friends in the complex and we rescued a baby squirrel. 

We now had a pet, and a little community. We had a “home.”

Things at work were steady and I started working on a new project of my own where I was going to travel the United States in the shape of a heart, do 1,000 acts of kindness and write a book.

Life was good.

Until we got a new downstairs neighbor.

Here’s the thing, our boys are wild. And we love them for their wildness, but our new neighbors did not.

Before talking to us about our loud footsteps, or even introducing themselves, the new neighbors complained to the management team about us and the amount of noise we made.

I remember reading the warning letter and it felt like a kick in the gut, but I decided to be a big girl about the whole situation and apologize to our neighbors and ask for a little patience as we worked with the boys and got them to settle down.

I even brought the lady fancy chocolate, but it wasn’t enough.

They reported us again, and then the only choice we had was to either abandon our lease again and stay and risk and official eviction…which would have really made it hard for us to find another place to live.

So we made the choice to move out, and we found a town home to rent. It had a little studio on the front of it so we decided to get a roommate to help us pay our rent.

Remember how I mentioned bad choices and bad luck…this townhouse roommate situation turned into a total nightmare. 

Our landlady was a slum lord and have the things in our place were broken 90% of the time we lived there, including the air conditioner. 

Our roommate was a leach and payed his rent late almost every single month, writing us bad checks, and causing me all sorts of headaches.

About three quarters into our lease, our family was in for a pleasant surprise, we found out we were now pregnant with our fourth child.

I was now terrified of bringing a baby home to this townhouse and this horrible situation.

I had to do better for this baby.

I was determined to.

We needed to get away from downstairs neighbors, roomates, and slumlords. 

We needed a home.

So I looked into home loans.

I had worked at my job for over 2 years, and I felt like we were at a spot that we could get a small home and start fresh for the new baby so I started my research.

I read about this program that would help clean up your credit and would help walk you through the whole home loan program, and call me ignorant (or just desperate), but I fell for it.

I payed these people a ridiculous amount of money and the sales lady promised me it would only take me about 3 months top and I should start shopping for houses.

In the mean time, our land lady came to tell us that our rent was about to go up and our air conditioner continued to no work properly and our electricity bills were growing to over $250 a month.

We were at the end of our lease living there month to month so we decided, yet again to move into a little efficiency motel while we were waiting to get our new home.

It was only going to be 3 months and we could save money in the mean time…but then things got delayed with the loan process.

My grandmother had just passed away and my grandfather was sick, so I asked my mom if during my maternity leave we could just stay with them to help take care of my grandfather. It was a home for my children to play in, a home for my baby to come home to, and a free place to stay while I was making no money on maternity live. 

So we went to Louisiana for the summer.

I thought surely by the time our son was born, we would have a home to bring him home to…

But then things got delayed some more with this loan process.

Elijah Cain Eldridge was born and he was perfection. I cherished every moment I had with him at my grandparents house. But my maternity leave came quickly to an end, and it was time to get back to work and return to Florida. 

We still had no home, but we made the best of it and found an apartment style hotel to stay in and continued to work on finding a place to call home, but then the unthinkable happened.

Our new beautiful baby Elijah passed away suddenly in his sleep and our lives fell apart worst than we could ever imagine.

The worst part of all of this is that I never got to bring Elijah “home” to a house. My baby died in a hotel room and it will always haunt me. I will always feel like I failed him.

The pain in our hearts, the loss of such a beautiful life, the loss of our son—it changed everything in our lives. 
Not even 2 days after Elijah passed away, we got a letter from the hotel saying we had stayed 21 days and they were not an extended stay and we had to leave….

They knew my son had just passed away and I had already paid for the week, but I had to argue with them and beg them to let us finish out the week.


After that week ended, we began bouncing around from hotel to hotel, trying to just find places we could afford and counting the days until we had to move somewhere else.

All of this while grieving the loss of our son…when I needed stability the most.

It was hell.

I ended up losing over 1/2 my income in 2015 from all the work I missed due to maternity leave and then from the unexpected death of my son.

Hotel stays became more and more expensive.

And as I tried to make something of myself and of Elijah’s life, I was determined to get us out of this mess.

While returning to work after Elijah’s passing, I developed an ulcer from the stress it brought me. I would often have panic attacks and spend time crying in the bathroom. I was late for work countless times from just crying in the parking lot, and there were just days where I couldn’t go to work so I wouldn’t.

So I quit…well sort of…temporarily. 

I plan on returning to work, when I can convince my body and brain to work. 

 

(And this walk is not meant to take the place of going back to work, it is to get us back on our feet and to give my children the home they deserve. I do plan on working and am trying to work right now for some independent contracting companies).

I started an art therapy studio for other bereaved parents, that I raised money to open, and I tried my hardest to make it work.

But now here we are, running out of money, burried in our debt and the cost of living, and here I am asking for your help.

WE ARE READY TO MOVE FORWARD! WE ARE READY TO GIVE OUR KIDS A HOME!!!
(with your help)

But this walk is about more than just getting our family a home. 

 

It is about providing our kids hope.

 

It is about teaching them that we can never give up no matter how bad things get.

And it is about moving forward and out of homelessness, so we can continue our efforts in kindness for our son Elijah. (follow Elijah's story at #loveelijah)

Everyday we do an act of kindness in Elijah's memory, and I really feel like once we get out of this hole we seem to be stuck in, we will gain the strength to really move forward with these acts of kindness and change the world!

Who knows, maybe one day we will be able to pay if forward and buy someone else a home in Elijah's memory. I would love that.