The help.. The Gambino House Nannie

The Gambino house nannie has to be the hardest working person in the family. They are essentially our parents. We spent more time with them than our parents. The cycle continued with my kids and nieces and nephews. Its really a vicious cycle that needs intervened. A direct effect of the house nannie is unhealthy relationships with parents. I feel like they are almost strangers now. Not much has changed now that I am older with my own kids. When I speak to my parents its almost like I don't even know them and its hard to talk to them or get any objective achieved during any conversation. I fear my own kids go through this sad reality as well.
A typical day for a Gambino nannie starts with getting children up and ready for school.. then off to school. Then if there is still children home, they will spend the day catering to the children's every need. As well as cook sometimes (we had a cook that cooked), clean, laundry, and anything else needed done. Once the kids get home from school or get out of school the nannie will do after school practices, carpooling, school sport and other events, PTA, parent/teacher conferences.. Then whatever needs done.. homework, bath, whatever needs or wants done by the children. The nannie does the shopping and plans events at the home (holidays, anniversary's, family trips, parties, dinners, etc.)  She picks up the slack for whatever other part of the house staff is lacking. They make 1,400$ a week. Live for free on the property in the nannie quarters. Not very much considering the nannie does more than my multi-millionaire parents. I couldn't ever be a house nannie.
The children's relationship with the nannies are what parents and children should be. Its sad really. But we are lucky to have at least a house nannie to lean on. Parents are rarely around (I call it an excuse so they don't have to be around.) I know because right now my own children are with family and our house nannie and house staff. Its nothing I am proud of but its all I know. I cant figure out how to break this cycle myself. Its harder than it appears. I don't know HOW I am going to raise this baby I am pregnant with.. Rico said I cannot have a house nannie. I don't know what the heck I'm going to do. It will however, be interesting to see how different this child turns out compared to myself and my other kids. I have a lot of work ahead of me.. and I am starting completely over at 32 years old and scared to death. Most people want their family.. i.e parents around when they give birth to a child and the following weeks/months. Not me, I want my house nannie. I am just now able to do my own laundry and wash dishes and clean me and rico's house. On my own. I hate that, but then again its my reality.
I am thankful I had a house nannie, she was my best friend, parent, teacher, doctor, babysitter, she was a part of my family. Its weird we are being raised by another person and we end up still like our parents in so many ways. I adopted 2 boys and I've raised them for the past 11 years and they are just like me.. or more so like me than their parents. I thought I would be more like my nannie. I am in some ways but I sometimes think I am too much like my crazy mother and busy reclusive father. I wish I would have had a choice in the matter of a house nannie.. maybe I wouldn't be so scared to give birth right now. I have never even changed a diaper on my own. SMH this will be interesting.

It happens in 3's..

Tomorrow  (Feb 12th) marks one of the worst days of my life. November 28th 2009 I gave birth to the most adorable baby girl Dell'Amore Carmelita Gambino she was 2 months early. She was just over 3bs. But perfect in every way. She lived only almost 3 months. I remember the events that unfolded on one of the worst days of my life. It was early morning February 12th 2010 and my husband got up to run to the store while the house Nannie got the kids ready for school. I was sleep. I was out until 3 am for work, the night before, I had held a Valentine event at the convention center. I had Jagged edge and R. Kelley in concert. This is when I owned my record label. Most nights we're late nights at shows or in the studio. So I slept late often. But that day was odd, out of nowhere I wake up at 7:27 and as I looked at my alarm clock at the time I glance over and seen Dell'Amore laying on her stomach with her little butt poked up in the air. I could tell her dad had moved her. She was between my husband and I when I went to sleep. I reached over and rubbed the back of her head. And she didn't even flinch. She was a very light sleeper. Would respond to any stimuli. So I kinda wiggled her butt with my hand. She didn't move. I hurry and grab her up and flip her over and she is greyish blue. The ugliest color you have ever seen. She was lifeless. I was worried I would hurt her so I sat her down and called 911. I'm screaming and yelling and I don't remember a word I said to the dispatch. I just remember trying to keep the kids from seeing their sister lifeless on the bed. But my daughter Haley wouldn't listen she just had to be with her new sissy. She ADORED her. Exactly what she always wanted.. a sister. She was devasted to a sickening degree. A degree in which she still has issues today. She never was right after her sister died. So I let Haley hold her sisters hand. The house Nannie was keeping the boys occupied. I'm running from one end of the house to the other looking for my husband. Was she like this when he left? His cell phone on the table next to the bed. Emt arrived finally it seemed like forever. Then my husband got back. He runs inside. They had to hold him back he was hysterical as was I. This was tragic. They laid Dell'Amore on our kitchen table to work on her. They seemed to be taking forever to open plastic wrap off their medical instruments and stuff. She just lied there turning blueer and blueer. I'm cussing them at this point. I got infuriated by this time and yelled my father is a doctor if you don't start doing something to my child to save her I swear none of you will have a job. They swiftly had officers move me. They got her pulse and took her to the hospital. In the ems on the way I called family. Within minutes there was every family member in the area at the hospital. The cops seen that as a kid in a candy store. We we're on the news. In newspapers. I made front page.. the following day. I went to the newspaper office and threw the biggest fit. I almost lunged at the woman when she said what she posted was freedom of speech and the public has a right to know. I felt violated. They got pictures of my family grieving over my daughter. They got a picture of the doctor kneeled down in front of me telling me she wasn't revivable. After that moment I screamed and cried.. I swear heaven could hear me. After I calmed down they let us go see her. I'll never forget that long walk down that cold white hall. My husband on one side, my father on my my  other side. As I neared her room I could see her just lying there on the gurney. I fell to my knees screaming hysterically. My dad sat in the floor with me as I cried. He held me and cried with me. All I could say is no!!!! And why!!!?? Begging and pleading God to give my baby back. All the family gathered and helped me through this and walked me to the hospital room. There was at least a hundred family members, coaches, teammates of my husband. I walked into that cold room. I gently sat on the gurney next to where my lifeless daughter laid. My father sat next to me. He picked up my daughter and held her. He was just looking down the whole time. Crying. Looking at his granddaughter. He then put her in my arms. My arms felt like me jelly. I could barely breath. Looking down at my daughter as she lay freely and lifeless in my arms. They say there is no physical pain in heartbreak. Thats the biggest, hardest lesson I learned first hand. I swear I literally felt my heart break. All I could do is cry. Why couldn't God have taken me instead? I have plenty of health problems and she didn't. I tried to beg, plead and bargain with God.. He only moves in His will. Unfortunately, my screams seemed unheard. My daughter was now an Angel in heaven with Him and her siblings. Remember the title of this entry is "It comes in 3's.." yes this is a horror that for some reason only known to God, the supreme being that has repeatedly ripped my children from me. For why? All I can do is trust in Him. The next few days we're a blur thanks to Xanex. We let my husbands football coach do the grave side service after mass. We let Haley pick her dress out we buried her in. People and family came from all over the world. A couple thousand people signed the book at the funeral. I don't really remember the service but I remember walking into Christ The King Catholic Church.. my home parish. Her white casket with hundreds of flower arrangements stood at the front of the stage of the cathedral. I walked up to her casket and leaned over and clutched it with every ounce of life I had in me. I cried out. Screaming again. Begging again.  This hurt so bad. My father spared no expense for her  service, casket, and burial. He had her casket inside designed like her nursery. Pink and brown. She was buried in a purple baby Gucci dress. We put her necklace, ring and bracelet on her. Painted her nails. She reigned as her little princess self for only a short time but she forever is my princess. As I set in me and Rico's bed  where I am writing this entry.  I am reminded I am 7 weeks pregnant. Can you imagine having to write about burying your children while pregnant with another baby? I hate to think of how I will be after the baby is born. I am crying as I type this. I cannot imagine.

My husband to be.. Rico vs ebonics

So in my generation we have this term of "Real Nigga" ... definition of this is a honest, loyal, fair, someone you can count on. I was begining to think that I would never meet one. Then I met Rico. The man.. only man I've truly loved. The man who showed me genuine true love. So urban ebonic terms such as "real nigga" became real. I finally met one. I've never met a more hard working man, dedicated, loyal man in my life. This man would go to war with God for me. Never have I felt so cherished. Genuinely.. like for myself and who I am as a person instead of what family I come from or social status. He loves me for just Candis. Never thought I would have that. I regularly thank God for him. And I haven't prayed since my sons funeral. Rico has made me a better me. He's my best friend, my other half. He has given me a reason to live again. Live longer. He saved me.. literally. This is the man I will spend the rest of my life with. Today (Feb 11th 2016) I am 7 weeks pregnant with our second baby.. we lost our first one November 28th 2015. We couldn't be happier. Rico is the best thing that ever happened to me. I'm starting over. New. Happy. While I'm telling my story backwards.. as I am living it the same. Except happy with a new family. 

Nervous twitch

So my husband to be Rico had a Dr appointment in the city I haven't been back to. The city I experienced my own living nightmare. While I feel safe and secure with Rico, he isn't bulletproof. So all the uneasy, nervous, anxious feelings flooded back. Especially after look to my right and off in the distance I see the housing addition I lived in with my worst nightmare. I was holding a piece of candy in the wrapper while we rode by. Rico took it away from me because I was nervously messing with it making a ton of noise. I couldn't hear anything but the sound of claudelle yelling me.. the sound of bullets being fired at me, the sound of bullets hitting metal as they tore through my car.. the sound of his fist hitting my head.. or whatever he could contact. This in only 4 months with him. Claudelle is my living nightmare. I met him on my current (supposed to be 1 month get away from New York - I'll explain in latter blogs) and instantly I didn't like him. He was just not my type. Too thug for me. But as with most relationship mess ups I was bored and alone at my godparents. Healing FROM DIVORCE *RED FLAG DUH* so we started hanging out and I don't know why or even how but we we're inseparable after a short time. But he was insanely controlling and possessive. Soon I wasn't allowed to go jog, gym, tan or go out with family. But I stuck with him. One afternoon I went to his house (roommates with brother and my godniece, next door) and he has a friend over.. his friend and I are friends already so we are casually talking and out of nowhere something pissed claudelle be cause he yanked me up and took me in to his room and beat me.. until I was covered in bruises. This happened often. It became frequent. Eventually my godparents began to notice the obvious signs and forbade him in my life. So as any RETARDED person would do, I picked up and moved away with him. To the neighboring town. Things got worse.. he got mean. He was a whole different person. He stayed fighting me. Hands on me for his pleasure I guess because he would want to have sex immediately after. 2-3 times. One time I refused. He grabbed the phone charger plugged in next to the bed and tied my hands up with it and raped me. I cried the whole time.. that time he falsely accused me of having a friend of his in our house. He thought I cheated. I really didn't. Not that time anyway. Claudelle ends up in jail for an old warrant. Ticket unpaid. I left him in there and I slept with his best friend 3 times. (our roommate at the time) Smurf. I got my car shot up while I was driving it the week after he got out of jail. Smurf told him we had sex. I got a call to go pick up trejo (a friend of ours) so I sat out front of Washington and 8th street.. I waited so long I got tired of waiting and left. I pull out and onto Washington, and a newer white car speeds in front of me from behind me.. immediately I see claudelle in a orange shirt hanging out the back window screaming stop bitch so I was like fuck this I'm going to hit the car. I got super close. He reached his right arm out and I'm thinking why does his stupid ass have a towel around his hand?? Then all I remember is hearing loud pops. 6 of them. I turned a corner and was trying to get to a public place so he would stop. I thought I lost them for a minute. Then I see them again. This time SMURF pops out the back window I notice he has claudelle's orange shirt around his hand. He  fired 2 shots. I'm just like really?! Smurf telling me claudelle ain't shit and some more stuff.. now he's shooting at me too??? I remember I was stopped, window shattered so I could hear outside. I could hear claudelle yelling "shoot that bitch" and smurf is yelling "the clip is empty man!" They drove away. I called my friend to come help me. That night they took pics partying in the same clothes they we're wearing as they sprayed my car with bullets, claudelle even had the orange shirt on. Luckily for him.. for them, I'm a Gambino.. we don't call cops. A week later I went back to him. Within a week he had held a gun to my head threatening to kill me. I got cut off my trust fund by this time. 10,000$ a month. Gone. Claudelle was selling dope. So we we're OK. I ended up pregnant and had a obvious abortion. I wasn't keeping a baby from a man hell bent on killing me. I really didn't know why I was with him. I was completely iceotic at this point. Things only lasted another week. I walked home from up the street but wasn't supposed to be gone. I was honestly with my girlfriend Christina. I walked up my front porch as "Third" the cousin of smurf walks over from next door. As soon as I walked through the door that day it would be the last time. I immediately got my head yanked up by my hair (it's down to my butt) and pulled down the hall to our bedroom and the whole time claudelle is screaming at me saying "Oh you want to fuck with another nigga!!?" I'm yelling no!!!! Kicking and screaming.. begging and pleading for him to stop. I hear third say "Man come on she didn't speak to me." Smurf butts in to tell third "man just stay out of it.. he's going to beat her ass either way. That time was the worst and last time. I was unconscious for this fight. I just remember him waking me up by kicking me in the stomach then dragging me to the front door by my hair. Telling me to get out.. but don't let him catch me with another nigga because I'm his woman forever. And that he will kill me and whoever.  Then smurf is heard in the distance yelling "you may be my nigga woman but you my bitch forever. And don't forget it. I take off.. no phone,  he shattered it. And go up the street back to christina went back for some of my belongings the next day. That was the day I left that town. Today was my first time back. It's crazy.. this life. The town I came to, to hide from  claudelle I met my soul mate. The only TRUE love of my life. Rico. We are pregnant for the second time - due in Sept.  We lost the first one November 28. Writing my book and reliving all of my life I had.. or lack thereof rather, made me stop and look at Rico, our home, our kids.. our life and I looked at Rico and said "if all of the pain and torment I had to go through with Claudelle was necessary to bring me to you, it was all worth it." I truly love the father of my children, future husband, Rico that much.

SYNOPSIS

I chose to write my story backwards.  With each new days blog I will also write about my past. My beautifully Altered Life.. The Life Of A Mafia Princess.

- Introduction -
Growing up Gambino wasn’t always glamorous. Sure it had its "perks" but also came with its "curse". I honestly had a pretty decent life. I was definitely privileged and certainly spoiled, bratty and rarely told "no". I had an entourage of house staff... from house nannies to drivers, cooks and property maintenance men. My father, a busy and dedicated surgeon with a corporation to run and my mother a "busy" trophy wife, both were very distinguished and sophisticated parents to my 4 other siblings and I, Neither was around much physically. The house staff became our parents really... don’t get me wrong, my parents did the best they could to compensate. Financially we had an awesome, endless life. Emotionally and mentally was a whole different life.
 There were always so many secrets in my family about everything, almost all things and all of the time. However I was unaware of these things until I was old enough to be aware. The "private" meetings and whispers were secrets until I was old enough to dig and look into my family and uncover it. We lived a very crazy and unusual life. A life stranger than fiction. I thought that every family was like ours. That was my normalcy. When people questioned it I couldn’t give them answers, not because couldn’t – (even though I couldn’t) but because I didn’t know any different...This life, It really was all I knew. I really had no idea what deep, dark and dysfunctional family secrets I would soon uncover. How insane and almost unbelievable my family story, family history truly is. All I know is a beautifully altered life and that being a Gambino woman in the family carried notoriety. A standard. A stigma.