“A happy arrangement: many people prefer cats to other people and many cats prefer people to other cats.”
-Mason Cooley
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to tell you about a situation that occurred. And, well, it was concerning the specific moment when I had to tell Piper that she was going to get spayed.
Me: “Piper!”
Piper: “Coming momma!”
Me: “What were you three doing?”
Piper: “I had just jumped on Tink’s back and was biting her head. And she was getting mad at me.”
Me: “Well, I need to talk to you about something?”
Coco: “Me and Tink are on the way, momma.”
Me: “Well, it might be good to have you here for support.”
Tink: “Uh-oh. Is everything ok?”
Piper: “What’s the matter momma?”
Me: “Well, when you get to be a certain age you need to have a surgery.”
Tink: “Oh yes! Snip, snip little girl.”
Coco: “Snip! Snip! And it’s going to hurt really bad.”
Me: “Tink! Coco! Ya’ll stop. You’re going to scare her.”
(Piper begins sobbing)
Piper: “Momma, why do you want to make me hurt?”
Me: “Coco and Tink, why did you say that?”
Piper: “Momma, I’m scared!”
Me: “Look, calm down a second. When you get to be a certain age, you must have a surgery to remove your kitten maker.”
Coco: “Snip! Snip!”
Me: “Coco, stop it! Piper, they give you some medicine to make you go to sleep so that you don’t even know that it’s going on.”
Piper: “But momma. What if I wanted to be a momma one day?”
Me: “Piper let me explain something to you. Momma cats don’t just have one kitten. If they had just one, you could have a kitten, and it could live with us. Momma cats have anywhere from 8-12 babies at a time. And we wouldn’t able to keep them. It would be harder on you if I took your babies away from you after you had already bonded with them.”
Piper: “So you’re not doing this to be mean to me?”
Me: “No baby. Tink and Coco did the same thing. And it helps keep you healthier the older you get. If you had a lot of babies and we couldn’t find homes for them all, we would have to take them to the shelter. And there are already too many puppies and kittens who have to do that.I’m just trying to make it easier on you and all of us by doing this. Think about it. If you had 8 kittens. Coco had 8 kittens. And Tink had 8 kittens. What would we have?”
Piper: “A crowd?”
Me: “Yes. And I wouldn’t be able to care for that many.”
Piper: “Ok. Well, I don’t want to be a momma cat to that many babies. But I’m still scared.”
Me: “I know you are. But I will go with you.”
Piper: “You promise?”
Me: “Unless, of course, you know how to drive a vehicle.”
Piper: “No way.”
Me: “I promise you might be a little scared. But you will be fine. And I will go get you whenever they say that you’re safe to come back home. And then we can cuddle, ok?”
Piper: “Ok. Please don’t forget about me.”
Me: “Don’t worry. Me and your sisters would never forget about you.”
Tink: “Piper, we were just messing with you. You will be fine. If you get scared, just ask “tha Jesus” to make you not scared.”
Coco: “Yea, kid. We were just playing with you. I was a little sleepy and sore afterwards. But the doctors will give you some medicine to make you not hurt but just a little bit.”
Piper: “Will you and Tink go with me?”
Coco: “Heck no!”
Piper: “Why not?”
Tink: “Because they take your temperature.”
Piper: “What does that mean?”
Me: “They just want to make sure that you don’t have a fever which would mean that you were sick.”
Piper: “Ok. Well, that doesn’t seem bad.”
(Coco now mumbling)
Coco: “That’s what you think.”
Piper: “What?”
Me: “Coco hush up. Piper, you will be fine.”
Piper: “Ok. Thank ya’ll for explaining things. I feel better. I love you big sissies.”
Coco and Tink: “We love you too, Piper.”
I’m writing this the day after Piper’s surgery. She did fine. And when I picked her up from the vet, except for the fact that she was still a little bit woozy and moving around like she had eaten an entire container of cannabis edibles, she did extremely well. Piper and Tink hissed at her for the next four hours because she and her carrier smelled like Noah’s ark from being around so many other animals, I am currently writing with two of them in my lap. Remember to always spay and neuter your animals. Thanks for reading!
Affirmation: I know when to curl up for a good nap
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. This holiday season is Piper’s first. And I have never seen her so happy. She has played so hard with big sisters Coco and Tinkerbell. And I actually saw Coco, the self-assigned mayor of my house, grooming Piper so much that now Piper will randomly walk over to her and put her head down for a little touch up throughout the day. And she is very inquisitive about everything. Check out this conversation!
Piper: “Momma?”
Me: “Yes Piper.”
Piper: “I have so much fun when my brothers come to visit.”
Me: “I know. I do too.”
(I could see the wheels in her little feline brain turning.)
Piper: “Momma, do you know what my favorite time is?”
Me: “Tell me.”
Piper: “It’s when they go home. Those are the best naps ever.”
Me: “Well, little miss you better find some energy because it’s holiday season.”
Piper: “What was it called when we had food all day long?”
Me: “Ummmm…420?”
Piper: “What is that?”
Me: “That’s when we celebrate my “stinky” medicine.”
Piper: “No. It was not long ago.”
Me: “Thanksgiving?”
Piper: “What does that mean?”
Me: “Well, it’s supposed to be about giving thanks for blessings in your life. And spending time with family.”
Piper: “Well, I spent lots of time with my family.”
Me: “ We all love you too. And you were perfect for our family.”
Piper: “I’m thankful that I survived. And I now have my very own family.”
Me: “Awe, we love you too, Piper.”
Piper: “Yummy! What is that?”
Me: “Piper you can’t jump into my plate!!!”
Piper: “Why not? I just want to see it. Smell it. And lick it.”
Me: “Ma’am, you must learn some manners.”
Piper: “But it smells so good. And it makes me hungry.”
Me: “Piper, people do not like cats who are overly nosy especially when their eating.”
Piper: “But I’m just a baby kitty.”
Me: “Stop being cute, right now!”
Piper: “But momma, I can’t help it.”
Me: “I will give you a bite. But you have to wait until I’m ready.”
(Approximately 30 seconds goes by and she starts swatting at my hand.)
Me: “Piper stop trying to grab my food! and stay out of my drink!
Piper: “I’m trying to do Thanksgiving.”
Me: “Coco, Tink, come get your sister!”
(I soon hear jingling bells alerting me to there whereabouts.)
Coco: “On my way momma!”
Tink: “Me too!”
(They come running and gasp when they see me.)
Tink: “Piper, No!!!!”
Coco: “Holy Catnip! What are you doing?!”
Piper: “I just want a bite.”
Coco: “Get down here, Piper!”
Piper: “What now?!”
Coco: “First come here. Your catlick is all messed up.”
(Coco begins grooming Piper.)
Tink: “Piper, you cannot do that! Never ever jump in momma’s plate. She will give you a bite. But you can’t rush her because she’ll go crazy. Do you want to be sprayed with the water bottle?”
Piper: “Heck No!”
Tink: “Yea. We don’t like it either. We just stop doing what got us sprayed.”
Piper: “Oh ok. I’m just hungry.”
Tink: “If you stop, and sit there quiet like you’re supposed to that’s called manners.”
Piper: “Wow! How do you know all of that?”
Coco: “Because we were kittens once too.”
Piper: “I’m so glad you guys are my family. Who else would give me baths?”
Coco and Tink: “We love you too.”
Coco: “We just want you to grow up and be a successful grown cat like we are.”
Piper: “Happy Holidays, big sissies!”
Coco and Tink: “Happy Holidays and catnip dreams to you Piper!”
Affirmation: I will not hesitate to ask for what I need.
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today is a very special day. It’s my oldest son, Marshall, birthday. Fourteen years ago today, after thirty-six hours of labor, Marshall made his entrance into the world. I will say with confidence that I was NOT the one who gave birth. And from that moment, my life was, once again, forever changed.
Our dreams as parents became a reality when our little preemie boy entered the world. And, boy, did he make the sun shine brighter that day. Within moments, we went from sleeping late anytime we wanted to, to now being very protective of this little boy who would call us moms. And now there was a little being that we would literally sacrifice everything for.
Our beautiful little boy name, Marshall Lake Landrum-Arnold, would struggle at the beginning of his life just trying to maintain his own body temperature and learning how to eat and put healthy weight on his tiny, little body. That first year was not easy by any means. And I speak for myself when I say that I was so happy that he arrived. But I was terrified of now being responsible for raising him to adulthood. And I was scared that I would not be enough.
His health scares and concerns were extremely stressful for us as a new family. And for once, I knew what it felt like to be completely helpless and not be able to “quick fix” a situation. But I finally understood the mysterious love between a parent and a child. This little boy, I knew, would change the world even if it was for two lesbian moms.
It has been the most frustrating, difficult, and rewarding job that I never thought possible. Now, fourteen years later, our little preemie is in the throws of puberty. He has a deep voice, peach fuzz, and an almost never-ending attitude. And first thing every morning he hisses and has the most ruthless cause of “bedhead” that I’ve ever seen. But he’s still my little boy.
He was beautiful the moment he entered the world. And he’s still beautiful now. He is the smartest and most caring boy that still loves to hang out with momma and laugh. Now it’s not wanting a bottle and a nap. It’s video games, nerf guns, weird music, a voracious appetite, band practice, books, and a mood swing that is constantly going back and forth. But he’s still my little boy.
We don’t live together now, but he always lives within me. From the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep, my thoughts always hold in the recesses of my mind, the many fears of being a parent. You can have many children, but there is only one first born. And as a first born myself, I try to impress upon him the importance about his role as a big brother. He has dreams and aspirations that I watch change sometimes daily.
Happy Birthday to you my beautiful boy! I look forward to many more years of watching you develop and become a man. While also knowing that three moms can raise a son without a man successfully. I love you more than life. And I thank you for making me a mom and changing my life. I will continue to love you unconditionally no matter what path in life you take. Because the sky is the limit for you. Hug your children because they won’t be babies for very long. Thanks for reading!
“Time spent with cats is never squandered, it’s ‘purr’fect!”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. I’ve told you how bad my girls are at playing hide-and-seek. And Piper is no different. Apparently, she and her sisters have been discussing how to play the game. Piper was so excited to show me what she had learned. I held my breath and prepared for the negative impact. And well….she might also have deficits in this area of her life. Read our conversation and draw your own conclusion on the future of my cats and their abilities to play a commonly played childhood game known as Hide-And-Seek. I am busy writing, and I overhear the girls talking about playing the game. So, I listen closer. Check out this interaction.
Coco: “Here let me show you what I’m talking about. Always remember, if you can’t see them, they can’t see you.”
Tink: “Yea. It’s pretty easy when you get the hang of it. I don’t know why momma got us a tutor.”
(The girls show Piper their version of the game.)
Piper: “Oh yes! I’ve got it now. But momma always tells me that I’m wrong.”
Coco: “Piper, one thing you have to understand is that we allow momma to think she’s right. But we do our own thing anyway. Except when she says, “TREAT OR COOKIE.” Then, we just act insanely happy and meow as much and as loud as you can. Those are the rules.”
Tink: “You have to train momma. She brings me my treats, or she throws them to me. And it’s really fun when she puts them all over the house for us to find. Then we show her who are the real stars of the game. It’s not about what’s true. It’s all about what is perceived.”
Piper: “Wow! Did momma teach you that?”
Tink: “No, the president did.”
Me: “Hold up girls! What are you talking about?”
Coco: “We were just teaching Piper how to play hide-and-seek.”
Me: “But ya’ll don’t even know how to hide appropriately.”
Coco: “Well, we are working with a tutor.”
Me: “True you are. But I think we need someone who will push you harder.”
Piper: “But I’m learning how to play.”
Me: “Ok. Show me what you’ve got.”
(They form a huddle and talk in private.)
Coco: “Ok. Ready. Break! Momma start counting.”
They all take off looking for the perfect hiding spot.
Me: “7…8…9…10! Ready or not, here I come!”
Everything is eerily quiet.
Coco:
Tink:
Piper:
Me: “I found all of you!”
Coco: “Piper, run like you stole something!”
Tink: “I concede to defeat.”
Me: “Really Tink?! Why?”
Tink: “Because I want to take a nap now.”
Piper: “I made it back to the base. Do we get a cookie now?
Coco: “Cookies? Who said, “Cookies? Meow! Meow!”
Piper: “Meow! Meow! Meow!”
Me: “Girls, that doesn’t mean that you get treats!”
Coco and Piper: “Meow! Meow! Meow! Meow!”
Me: “Girls, hush!”
Coco and Piper: “Meow! Meow! Meow! Meow!”
Me: “Ok! Ok! Just hush!”
Coco: “See, you play the game just like that, Piper. Everyone is a winner!”
Tink: “Momma, please bring me my treats!”
Me: “Fine just be quiet.”
Coco: “Winner. Winner. Chicken cookie dinner!”
As you can see, the girls have their own agenda. And please keep us in your thoughts and prayers as we try to survive as a family. Thanks for reading!
The following is a situation that led to Coco growling for the first time ever. She wanted to let her inner mountain lion loose. But all she was able to do was squeak like a mouse. Tink also tried and was only able to connect with a very light meow. “We just don’t feel safe with them as protectors.”
They didn’t even try to save me from one tiny moth. The best that either of them could do was look at it. No warning, no gang signs, no saying “You need Jesus!!! Nothing!!!!!”
Ok that was harsh but not really. It was my fault for zooming in on the picture and making it look like a dinosaur from Jurassic Park.
(We don’t know that cat.)
When it was actually the size of a quarter. Or maybe a dime depending on the angle. And we are assuming that the lizard was female because none of us saw lizard balls. And we don’t actually know if lizards have balls. But if they do we don’t know where they are kept. Maybe at an alternate address. We took a vote and named her “Lizzie the Lezzie.” Not to be confused with the real “Lizzy the Lezzie.”
I looked up after about an hour of scurrying to find Coco and Tink with bewildered looks on their faces and pawing at the lifeless reptile. Coco said, “Momma!!!!! We need to change the batteries out.” I had to explain to her that this was not a situation that batteries could fix.” Coco was very upset that Lizzie was dead. She was crying and saying, “Momma, I didn’t want to unalive her. I was just playing with her.” I told her, “Baby I know. You just played with her to death.”
We later found out that males are the ones that flash that piece of pink skin. That was like puffing out their chest. And we thought the whole time that the lizard was blowing bubbles because she was chewing watermelon bubble gum.
We are all in therapy and trying to work things out. Coco and Tink got some tutoring sessions in aggression and have progressed to a light hiss and a paw in the air and learning how to call a bluff. One night they alerted me to a possible intruder. It was a 2” moth holding a shank. And a pregnant gnat with an attitude. I told Coco, “get to it sister, this one is yours.”
The last time I saw them Tink had moved onto other things. And Coco was still grieving and processing the trauma. She is working with a therapist that really knows her stuff. And her therapist doesn’t allow Coco to deflect the painful issues. She will, however, guide her through it with a crappy little nudge from a therapeutic assignment.
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today I want to tell you about a situation that involved Tink and Coco. They both have dreams of being big cats one day. I don’t have the heart to challenge their realities. So, I just let them dream away. On this particular day I let them express just that. Check this out!
I woke up one morning with the familiar feeling of a fat cat running back and forth across me. This usually Coco’s meaning of “Momma get up!” I sit up and take a few minutes to gather myself for yet another day. Tinkerbell is gently licking my toes. I then feel pain and start sweating. I ask her. “Tink! What are you doing?!” “Momma, I licked your toes so clean and then I wanted to chew on them.” “Listen here! Don’t you ever use your back teeth to lick my feet!” I stand up limping towards their food bowls.
Tink: “Yippee she’s going to feed us! Momma, I want a gazelle to eat like the big cats on Netflix.
Me: “Have you and coco been watching National Geographic shows?”
Tink: “Yes ma’am. We could eat it just like they do.”
Me: “Tink there is nothing about you or coco that could take down a gazelle. Except maybe the fumes coming from your litter box. How would you get one to here at our house?”
Tink: “Momma DoorDash….duh.”
Me: “I’m quite sure they don’t deliver life size gazelles. What would you do if you got one? Lick its toes, run across it and throw paws with its hair? Ya’ll don’t even stalk anything but brown leaves, bugs and each other. “
Wanting to prove that she is like a big cat, I soon see Tinkerbell crouch down and ready to pounce at any moment. I couldn’t see what the target was, but I just watched curiously.
Tink: “Watch me catch my prey!”
She shakes her butt a little and then off she goes trying to be the big cat of her dreams. She lands on her target and quickly jumps back off it. When I finally see what she found She asks me
Tink: “Momma, what do you think? I killed my prey!”
Me: “Yes, Tinkerbell did kill it. The ice cube is dead.”
I know that this one was lighthearted. And to be honest, I need to remind myself every now and then about the comical simplicity of life. They help me so much, in fact, that I want to share them with as many who want to enjoy some of their funny comforts. My animals have always been the compassion in life that I couldn’t seem to find at one time. And the relationship that I have with them is so much fun. I hope that you can enjoy some of what I love about my girls, Tink and Coco. Thanks for reading!
Affirmation of cats: There is no one in the world that I would rather be.
“If mugs made fart noises coffee shops wouldn’t be relaxing, they’d sound like a yoga class in a retirement home.”
-Desi Lydic
Me and my cats have a nightly routine that consists of me taking my meds while Tink is at my feet watching my every move. And stares at me hoping to make me hurry along. I then Get comfortable in my recliner and cover up with my favorite blanket. Then Tink hops in my lap where we both cuddle until we’re both asleep. Except on nights when I’m scrapbooking. And then both of the girls fall asleep wherever they are. Usually, Coco is in her bed and Tink is in my recliner on my blankets. Anyway, here’s how one of our nights unfolded.
Me: “Tink wake up.”
Tink: “Mi no Habla ingles.”
Me: “Well, Rosetta Stone you better find a way to talk to me.”
Tink: “I’m sleeping.”
Me: “No you’re not you just spoke to me.”
Tink: “I talk in my sleep.”
Me: “Wake up or I will get the thermometer and check to see if you have a fever.”
Tink: “I’m up. What do you need?”
Me: “Tink, hold on omg was that you?! You are nasty!! You farted!!!! Tink, that one is really bad. You know I can’t take bad smells. Dear God, what did you eat?! Oh, Holy Hell it’s burning my eyes too. What are your farts made of? Napalm?”
Tink: “Your big baby stop your whining it’s just your allergies. And you woke me up from my sleep and I didn’t have the energy to hold it in.”
Me: “I know. I’m allergic to cat farts. I can’t take crop dusting any better than this. Omg now I taste it! I started gagging. I had a sudden flashback to diaper days. You and your brother Copeland are the worst smelling animals on this planet! Wait until I tell him how nasty you are.”
Tink: “Fine tell him. He’s the one who taught me how to fart!”
Me: “You need to be bathed in a tub of Holy water because you have a demon in your butt. Dear God get out of my lap and off my blanket!! You probably cinged the fibers. Oh, I just threw up a little in my mouth. Find my airplane vomit bag NOW!!!!”
Tink: “Fine me and Copeland will go live with coach.”
Me: “Ummmm….I wouldn’t dare do that to her!!”
Tink: “She would, at least let me process my feelings about it.”
Sarcastically
Me: “So what are your feelings?”
Tink: “I feel that I’m a flatulent genius.”
Me: “No! Nope, nope, nope! Not even funny, Tink. Why would you want to subject coach to your farts? I thought you liked her.”
Tink: “Well you share everything with her so I thought that I would share everything too.”
Me: “Tink, I do not talk to her about farting!”
Tink: “You talk to her about being constituted.”
Me: “That’s constipated. And I told her that I almost died. It was a traumatic event.”
Tink: “Really?! There was no need to let her in on that part of your life. She likes me more than she likes you, anyway. I don’t understand why you’re being so dramatic.”
Me: “Tink I almost lost my life! I was in the middle of hostage negotiations with my poop chute, and I saw the grim reaper! The whole event scared me to death. And I will not compete for our coach with a cat! You know that she’ll call the police to come and do welfare check on me. And then I’d have to go to the ER and deal with idiots.”
Tink: “It was just a little poop ghost. The poop fan is on.”
Me: “There is nothing about that fart that is little. And no that’s our living room fan and all it does is swirl that weapon of ass destruction all over the house. And it sticks to everything. The whole house smells like I’ve been cooking with dookie tonight!”
Tink is now overcome with laughter.
Me: “A poop fan takes it out of the house. And you can tell your “ghost” that it needs a tic tac or an altoid because it has some crappy dragon breath. Plus, the police officers would arrest you for endangering the life of a vulnerable adult.”
Tink: “Well, I’ve been watching Cops, and I know when I’m supposed to start running. I refuse to be put in handcuffs!!”
Me: “They wouldn’t use handcuffs. They would bring Animal Control and use a rabies pole.”
Tink: “Outta my way momma that’s my cue to start running!”
Ever since then I have been thinking of a way to conduct a “Shock and Awe” moment. I’ve been waiting for a good fart to get her back. So, one day I waited until she was in a deep sleep. I snuck up on her like I was in some type of special forces unit. Operation: “Methane Freebie” was almost over. I got into position close to my target and I Let Her Rip!!! She got vertical at that very moment. I couldn’t help but laugh. With her eyes wide open and her tail all fluffed out she said
Tink: “What in the “Holy Crap on a Cracker” what was that?”
Hysterical Laughter
Me: “I just spoke your “love language.”
Tink: “That was not love, Momma! Had you been a man I would’ve clawed you right in the pickle.”
Me: “Yes it was your “love language.” That was me blowing you a kiss.”
Tink: “I want a divorce!”
I hope you’ve enjoyed this lighthearted post. This was not fiction. My cats and I actually have conversations like this. Thanks for reading! And keep smiling!
Affirmation: If my cat’s flatulence is excessive, I will consult with a veterinarian to rule out any underlying medical conditions.
“Sometimes the goal is to just survive, and the memories are a bonus.”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about the holidays and family. Don’t worry. It also gives me gas at the thought of the two, once again, colliding.
This should be a happy time for most of us. However, especially in our current political climate, I would venture to say that the thought of interacting with family members who stand on the opposite of the isle makes me want to step out into oncoming traffic. So, this year, I’ll be spending most of my holiday time with the only ones that seem trustworthy, my boys and my cats.
My cats could care less about what the current political environment is like. And they also don’t care whether I’m straight or gay. And unlike some of my family members, all they want to do is spend every waking hour with me. With all of my quirkiness, they just seem to keep scrolling as none of that matters to them.
My boys and I will spend time together during their school break. Activities include burning leaves and wood at the fire pit, roasting wieners and marshmallows, and cuddling in the cool night air while talking about the newest and most concerning issues of being a child. And I will, more than likely, be pummeled by nerf gun bullets sometime during their stay.
We never have enough money to do everything that we want to do. But what we do have is each other. They devour every bit of food available. And at the end of the day, they are my children, and I am their mom. The cats are their sisters. There is absolutely nothing that can compare to that.
By the end of their stay, the cats are tired of being nice and the boys are tired of being nice to each other. And I am, once again, interested in a little bit of quiet time. No matter how tired and irritated we can get, me and the boys experience the true meaning of family. And that’s what it’s all supposed to be about. Not judging someone for who they are versus who they are not. Thanks for reading! And enjoy your time with family in whatever way that takes shape.
Affirmation: I will approach this holiday with the same calm wisdom I use to navigate family debates over the thermostat.
“Grit your teeth and let it hurt. Don’t deny it. Don’t be overwhelmed by it. It will not last forever.”
-Harold Kushner
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Keeping in line with suicide awareness, I thought I would talk about a couple of groups that reflect awareness and prevention. There are so many groups out there that stay along these same lines. And I wish that I could spotlight them all.
To Write Love On Her Arms
This group is a nonprofit group dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury, and suicide. Jamie Tworkowski set out only to help a friend and to tell her story. When he met Renee Yohe, she was struggling with addiction, self-injury, and suicidal thoughts. He wrote about spending five days with her prior to her entering a treatment facility. And he began selling t-shirts to help fund her treatment by posting them on Myspace. Soon people from all over the world began contacting him and telling him about their struggles and heartbreaks. And in 2007, TWLOHA became an official organization.
Here are some numbers associated with their organization:
· 210,000 messages from individuals in over 100 countries.
· 3.8 million miles have been traveled to meet people in their communities.
It is an online community that began in 2013, when Amy Bleuel created it to honor her father, who died by suicide. The organization centers around mental health awareness and suicide prevention. The World Health Organization (WHO) reports a 25% increase in anxiety and depression during the first year of COVID-19. That combined with the nation’s political instability characterized by protectionism and unilateralism has led to strained international relations. And the stress funnels down to our families and personal stories.
The semicolon represents a continuance of life where a period could have easily ended the story. There have currently been over 89,000 assessments completed. 5,336 journal entries shared. And have provided direct support to 214 individuals. Semicolon badges in Apex Legends and Call of Duty has reached over 1.3 million gamers and additionally 50 new chapters. And 84% of Project Semicolon members report that the organization has saved with lives in times of crisis (www.projectsemicolon.com, 2025).
Mission Statement
Our mission is to empower individuals with mental health experiences to embrace their journey and recognize that their story is far from over.
I hope that you can take something from this information. Please take what you can use and leave the rest. And please pass along the information to someone who can benefit. Even if that someone is you. Keep smiling! And do not be afraid to reach out for help.
Affirmation: There are other ways to end my pain, even if I cannot see them right now.
“Our country is grappling with a youth mental health crisis, and it is particularly pronounced for LGBTQ+ youth.”
-Ronita Nath
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away. Today, keeping in line with the topic of suicide, I want to discuss suicide in the LGBTQ+ community.
The prevalence of suicide in the LGBTQ+ community is nothing new. The risk for suicide attempts and suicidal ideation can be 3 to 6 times greater for lesbian, gay and bisexual adults according to the National Institutes of Health. But there are also other statistics to keep in mind.
In 2024, 39% of LGBTQ+ youth considered attempting suicide according to The Trevor Project’s national survey. 1 in 10 of LGBTQ+ youth attempted suicide in the past year. And LGBTQ+ youth are more than four times likely to attempt compared to heterosexual youth. I can tell you that personally, I’ve been suicidal many times because of rejection from my family as a lesbian woman.
Transgender and Nonbinary identified individuals are at an even higher rate of suicide. And almost half seriously considered suicide in the past year. In 2022, 80% of transgender people had considered suicide and 40% had attempted. These statistics while staggering are not surprising. These demographic struggles are way more than they should be with little compassion from society.
Bisexual identified individuals are 1.5 times more likely to report thoughts and attempts compared to gay and lesbian individuals. And 2.98 times more likely to have a suicide-related event compared to heterosexuals according to a 2022 study. And the LGBTQ+ youth of color report higher rates of suicidal ideation and attempts compared to white peers (www.therevorproject.org, 2025). And there are several contributing factors such as:
· Discrimination and Prejudice:discrimination, harassment and violence due to sexual orientation or gender identity increases the risk of suicide.
· Lack of Support Systems: Limited social support from family, peers and community exacerbates the mental health challenges.
· Mental Health Disparities: LGBTQ+ individuals are more likely to experience depression and may face barriers to accessing mental health services (https://mhanational.org, 2025).
For someone who is a member of the LGBTQ+ community, I can tell you that I’ve considered suicide many times. The rejection from family and friends are sometimes more than I can bare. And having worked with someone in therapy many years ago, who was not sensitive to the needs of someone in these communities, there was little progress made. Mainly, because I couldn’t trust her. And she was extremely judgmental.
Since collaborating with coach for almost a decade, I can tell you that I have been able to fully accept the fact that I’m gay, despite my family’s disapproval. And then the religious communities also seem to greet us with bible verses telling how many ways we are going to hell. We all know that “choosing” to be gay is such an easier way of life. There the secret is out.
With the current political administration taking away the rights and freedoms that the Stonewall riots stood against, and the lack of funding for suicide hotlines for LGBTQ+ youth, these rates will only climb. Our families, friends, churches, and government should be ashamed of standing by people who are ok with the policies set in place. We are the same as we ever were. We just wear rainbows now.
There are those beautiful allies out there who remain the strength and backbone of our continual fight for equality. We are youth, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, husband, and wives who just want to be recognized as equals in the eyes of the law. But where reputations and political agendas are from the far right, we must be even more solidified as a community. If someone is for rights with some and not others, I have no room for them in my life. But it’s taken me years to come to this conclusion.
Is it lonely? At times, yes. However, I want people in my life who not only support me but also my friends. The suicide hotline is something that our community not only wants but needs. Many of us have non-supporting families and mine is no different. But I do have a place to live currently. But that does not constitute me putting up with homophobia or fragile masculinity and femininity.
The very few “true” friends I have, understand that being gay is not a “choice.” It’s who I am. And if that’s too much for someone to manage, that’s just too damn bad. To my fellow allies and community members, keep up the good fight. We must take up the original Pride flag are carry on. I love our colors. And I’m proud to call myself a member of the LGBTQ+ community.
Keep smiling. Keep shining. Knowing you can always count on me, for sure. That’s what friends are for. We are seen. And we are heard. And….WE ARE FABULOUS! Thanks for reading. Take what you can use and leave the rest.
Affirmation: I am proud of myself and will continue to strive to do well.
“The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.”
-Douglas McArthur
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negativity energy, go away. Today, I want to discuss veteran suicide. I know that this topic has seemed to get old and fast. However, I believe that the more we talk about the harshness of life, the more the stigmas will begin to disappear.
In 2022, the most recent year for the current data, 6,407 veterans and 41,484 nonveteran adults died by suicide. The rate among veterans was 34.7 per 100,000 compared to 17.1 per 100,000 for nonveterans. Since 2005, veteran suicide has risen faster than any other group. And these rates are unacceptable.
The veterans who died by suicide in that year, 40% were under the care of the Veterans Health Administration. Among those patients, who were also diagnosed with a mental health disorder or substance abuse disorder, there were 56.4 per 100,000, which was twice the rate of those without a diagnosis. And among 1,548 veterans who died by suicide 64% were diagnosed with depression, 43% had an anxiety disorder, 40% had PTSD, and 32% had an alcohol use disorder. However, the highest suicide rates were associated with veterans who had sedative use disorder which include benzodiazepines, barbiturates, and opiates (www.rand.org, 2025). And the stigma about mental health in the military further increase this problem.
Aspects of Veteran Mental Health stigma:
· Fear of judgment and perception: Veterans worry about how seeking help will affect all areas of their lives and especially on career repercussions.
· Military culture: The “warrior ethos” which emphasizes self-reliance and stoicism create barriers to seeking help.
· Loss of security clearance: Some fear that seeking mental health treatment will lead to revocation of security clearances.
· Impact on treatment: stigmas can lead to untreated mental health conditions, substance abuse and increased risk of suicide.
· Self-stigma: Veterans may internalize negative societal views about mental health which can lead to shame, self-blame, and more reluctance to seek help (https://oxfordtreatment.com, 2025).
As an advocate for medical cannabis, I believe that our veterans should be given an ounce of cannabis the minute their feet hit US soil upon returning from active duty. As I personally deal with PTSD, there is not another medication on the planet that can bring me relief like cannabis can. And it’s such a safer alternative to alcohol, opiates, and benzodiazepine medications.
Currently, the Safe Healing Act, which was introduced on February 4, 2025, is designed to prohibit the Secretary of Veterans Affairs from denying a veteran benefit administered by the Secretary by reason of the veteran participating in a State-approved marijuana program and other purposes. But unfortunately, there is only a 3% chance of being enacted (www.govtrack.us, 2025). And I consider this utterly ridiculous. There is an unmistakable problem with veteran suicide. It appears Big Pharma is still in the way of progress. I wonder how many people who oppose this bill must suffer, daily, with the horrible effects of PTSD, anxiety, and chronic pain that “Big Pharma” can’t seem to help?
Our returning soldiers are faced with horrors that no one understands until they’ve been there. And though I have never served our country, I can tell you that the above-mentioned mental health disorders have also almost taken my life many times. The symptoms are horrific in nature. Put chronic pain in the mix and suicide often seems like the only answer to have a break, though it be permanent, for even a moment of peace.
Veterans, in my eyes, should be held to the utmost respect. They should be the highest paid employees before professional athletes. And we as a country should make sure that the best treatment is available to them for the rest of their lives. Some have paid the price of their lives on the battlefield. And a high percentage of others pay with their lives when they return home. But instead of treating them like the heroes like they are, they are often discarded by the government that they so proudly serve.
Is cannabis the only answer? Not at all. However, while they find the modality that works for them, I think that cannabis could lighten the load and make their futures seem a little brighter. Discarding them along with all the judgmental stigmas only adds to the problem. And until this is rectified, we will continue to lose those beautiful people who are willing, at any moment, to lay down their lives for our freedoms. Shame on the United States of America for treating them like that!
I know reading this is not easy. But we as a nation must stand up for these individuals who continue to pay the price every time, they open their eyes. Let’s get past the “reefer madness” ignorance and allow our veterans the opportunity to extend their lives at home. A special thanks and salute to one of my favorite veterans who I’ll call Joe. Thanks for reading! And God Bless America!
“This life. This night. Your story. Your hope. It matters. All of it matters.”
-Jamie Tworkowski
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Thank God, we have made it through most of the hottest months of the year. September is another sticky, humidity filled month before the beginning of the cool down. September is also Suicide Awareness and Prevention Month. I know, it’s another upbeat topic. I think that the topic of suicide shouldn’t be taboo. It’s an unfortunate dark part of nearly every culture. And, yes, it has also affected my life in many ways which I’ll share.
Suicide has always been referred to as “the easy way out,” “selfish action,” a “total disregard for friends and family,” and the most hurtful “a sin.” And it’s really easy for people to throw out opinions that help no one when they are struggling. That is minimizing their pain and abuse.
Having been not only a patient in the mental health system for the majority of my life, and working in the mental health field as a professional, I have also seen and been on most sides of this problem. People are so quick to judge what they don’t understand. And, sadly, suicide is a topic that tends to be discussed in judgment versus with compassion.
I have been chronically suicidal since I was a teenager. I was being abused and put on display for others to see for an entire year in school. I was also locked in a closet in that same room while being verbally abused in any way imaginable. I tried to tell adults about what was going on. However, I was made to feel like it was my fault. This helped the teacher to further perpetrate her abuse. My parents also made me apologize to her for comments that I made to her. But as their child, I was not protected by them or the administration. I was in a difficult situation without the possibility of brighter days ahead for the future.
My suicidal feelings got the best of me one day at school when I took forty aspirin. I had no idea, at that time, that it wouldn’t work. But the thought of continuing one more day at the hands and mouth of s purely evil woman was more than I could deal with. My parents were called and made aware. Nothing was ever done. I was never provided with any kind of help. Maybe it was the “standard” of the late 1980s. I was not given the emotional support to sort out my trauma.
What I did begin doing was self-harm. I had no idea what it all meant, at that time. But I knew that it made things better even if for just the moment. As I’ve stated about my family’s dysfunctional dynamics, I was told just to make it through the year and everything would be fine. It wasn’t. Yes, the abuse ended. But I was not fine.
By my freshman year in high school, I was “balls to the wall” in addiction. Addiction that presented itself in drugs, alcohol, eating disorders and self-harm. The strongest addiction being self-harm. And 35 years later, it continues.
The depression, anxiety and suicidal ideations never subsided as I was told. One day I finally told my mother that had I had access to a weapon, I was going to kill myself. Instead of offering help, of any kind, I was met with anger and told that I was being selfish. My thoughts were anything but selfish. I was hurting in ways that no one knew. And no one seemed to care. So, I suffered in silence for many years.
As a child/teenager when traumatic events occur, your mind goes directly to self-preservation. You do whatever you can to either tolerate the darkness or end the pain. Meanwhile, the trauma of life continued at a level that no one is capable of dealing with alone. My next real relationship was abuse that lasted 14 years. And again, I felt trapped.
If you don’t understand the concept of Pavlov’s dogs, then you don’t understand what it’s like to be held mentally captive while the world sees your situation with an easy out. And the sad part about it, is that they think that you deserve everything you get because you don’t just leave. My parents attributed all of the chaos of that relationship as being something that religion could fix. So, we got involved in church. If anything, the abuse got much worse because now his weapon was a Bible that he read and used as justification that I should be “submissive” to his every demands. Mentally, I was trapped again without any way out. And my self-harm was not about survival. It was about making the pain end.
I would reach a mental breaking point and would stand out in the front yard where we lived and pointed a gun at my chest and pulled the trigger. The strange part was that I seemed to be witnessing rather than taking an active role. I watched that whole event as a spectator. I don’t expect you to understand the power of dissociation. Most people, in fact, are very ignorant about it. Again, I was met with anger from my mother. She kept saying, “Hush! Hush! Do you want to go back to Pine Grove?” That is the local mental health facility. And at that moment all I needed was compassion. But again, I faced anger and judgment. I wasn’t trying to “take the easy way out” or be “selfish.” I just wanted the pain to end. And everyone seemed to lose sight of that reality but me.
The bullet went into my shoulder only a few inches from my heart. And even hospital staff treated me as though I was taking up space much better suited for someone else. Self-harm became a way of life for me. It’s been there when people should’ve been there. But self-harm doesn’t always mean “suicide attempt.” And this is a very sore subject among family members. But I sit as an outcast by my family who want nothing more than the family name to not be tainted by abnormality. They acknowledge that bad things happen. But they just want it to disappear and to quit bringing shame to the family name and instead just move on with life. But the biggest factor, is that they don’t want to be perceived as “parental failures.” It’s still all about the reputation of the family.
People that is not how trauma works. And saying, “We just didn’t know how to help you” is “shit”of an excuse. I was a child when it began. You were in the position to help protect your daughter and you didn’t. Remember, the part of the story where I said, “Just make it out of the 8th grade and everything will be better.” It’s 35 years later and it’s not better. It has crippled me as an adult. And has stolen my hopes and dreams. And I still deal with suicidal ideations on a daily basis. Those never went away either. So, I guess feeling like a “burden” to those who say that they love me but treat me as such will forever be the unhealthy narrative. I’ve asked them to do therapy to help with our relationship. But again, it’s of no importance. And the unspoken belief that I’m unworthy continues.
I wrote this blog to say this, “Quit making someone’s struggle with suicidal thoughts and actions be all about you. You are not helping anything. You only make it worse.” Simply say to them, “Your thoughts and beliefs are valid. Let’s find some compassionate help that will help you thrive. Throwing Bible verses in their face is not helpful. Telling them that they will go to hell is not helpful. They are already living in an emotional hell.
This is not rocket science! Just don’t be an asshole as a rule of thumb. I have been in the position of being the last one to talk to a person moments before they completed suicide. I can tell you this, “I’m not mad at that person. I don’t condemn their actions. I don’t say, “Well I guess they’re in hell now. How selfish of them.” I simply say, “I hate that they were in so much pain that nothing anyone said could break through the cloud of despair.”
Until you’ve been in that position, you have no idea how strong emotions and thoughts are. And if the person felt like they had exhausted all of their means of trying to end the pain in an acceptable fashion, then they see no other way out. Judgmental comments about, “well, they didn’t seek out every source of help” is you seeing in from your perspective only. If you can’t see it from their perspective, you’re one of the lucky ones. Thanks for reading! Take what you can use and leave the rest.
“Cat fact: Once you own a cat the probability that you bring up cats in conversation increases by 200%.”
-@mickeyandmort
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to share a short story that I wrote a few years ago. It involves my cat Tinkerbell. Sometimes you just have to take time out to thank the universe for giving things a second chance. This was one of those times.
One night I visited my parents who live no more than 60 ft from my house. I stayed over there for maybe an hour and came back home. My cats never miss a chance to greet me at the door like I’ve just returned from a 21-day furlough in Denton, TX. And they meow like they haven’t been fed the entire time. They do this because when I go to the store to pick up my groceries, I always bring back a snack for them. Therefore, every time I leave and come back that means that they have a new treat. (Yes, I have created this situation, and I hate myself for doing it.) but after ignoring their cat woes they will eventually settle down and find a place to sleep or breakout in an all-out sprinting and body slamming each other which is another little love language behavior. Not paying attention to anything but the movie, I look and see Coco beginning to settle down in her rocking chair. Tink was quiet and out of view. This means the same thing as it does for a toddler, trouble.
I get up and start looking for her. Then I heard what can make me sit straight up in the middle of the night, the sound of a cat vomiting. I flip the light on in the kitchen and realize that Tink has her back to me. The closer my hand gets, her growl lets me be aware that she is trying to hide something from me. Again, I can see that she’s chewing on something and gagging even more. I decided to go in even if I need a rabies shot soon after. I go in for the kill and stick my hand into the dark bracing myself for her angry bite. And I feel something that is not her and yank quickly. All I can do is shake my head. She was trying to swallow a rubber band. She darts out quickly. I angrily shout, “Dammit Tink you could’ve died!!!!” She scurries under the bed and out of sight. I take a deep breath knowing how lucky my sweet, crazy girl was in this situation. I clean the mess off the floor. I take another deep breath. And turn the light off. I look for her frantically to find her sound asleep on the bed and I whisper, “Thank you, Universe.”
Thanks for reading! Never forget to thank the universe for the little gifts that it blesses you with. Keep smiling!
Affirmation: I have the power to get in trouble for no good reason.
“One cat might not fix all your problems…but three might.“
-@mangosnickerskiwi
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away. Today, I want to tell you about when Piper met her brothers, Marshall, and Copeland for the first time. Here’s how our conversation went.
Piper: “Momma?”
Me: “Yes, Piper?”
Piper: “Who are those loud boys?”
Me: “Those are your brothers.”
Piper: “Well, I like them.”
Me: “So do I, baby.”
Piper: “They played with me until I couldn’t play anymore. I had to take a few “kitty naps” to keep up with them. And when they went home, I had to take a long “kitty nap.”
Me: “Oh don’t worry. So, do me and your sisters, Coco and Tinkerbell. We always take a nap when they go home.”
Piper: “Did you know that I farted in their faces?”
Me: “I think we all knew when that happened.”
Piper: “Well, Marshall was tickling my belly and then I ended upside down. So, I let it rip to get him back.”
Me: “Yea. Sometimes I do that too. But they love you very much.”
Piper: “And I love them too. You know Willow from 3 Southern Cats?”
Me: “Yes. But she recently died.”
Piper: “I know. I heard you and the boys talking about it and they were sad. Willow used to say that when she farted on something, it was hers. So technically, ya’ll are all mine.”
Me: “Well, you have a point. You have successfully farted on every one of us.”
Piper: “Yep, I’ve been secretly practicing when I go to the litterbox.”
Me: “Trust me. I has been no secret.”
Piper: “Well, I’ll keep practicing.”
Me: “I would prefer that you not practice in our laps. Only in the litterbox.”
Piper: “Well what about my sisters?”
Me: “I would prefer they do the same.”
Piper: “Ok, momma. What if I do it right in front of the fan like Tink does?”
Me: “Please don’t. I can’t take another cat like that.”
Piper: “Ok. I’ll just talk to tha Jesus about it.”
Me: “Well, he’s the only one that can handle those evil smells.”
Piper: “Dear Jesus, this is Piper again. Thank you so much for my big brothers. And you know that I’m sorry for farting on them and momma. They say that it’s evil. Is that right? If so, please remove that evilness from my belly. And please tell them to stop patting my belly. Because that’s what triggers evilness to come forth. Your humble servant, Piper. Amen.”
Me: “Very good, Piper. Now all we must do is try and survive until Jesus works his magic.”
Piper: “I love you, momma.”
Me: “I love you too, baby girl.”
Thanks again for reading. I will continue to update you on our new life with little Piper. I am happy to say that she has been officially accepted into our family begrudgingly by her sisters. And Piper is helping them get more exercise by playing with her. Keep reading. And stay connected by subscribing to our blog.
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away. Today is a special day because I brought this beautiful little girl into our family. She is the epitome of being a survivor.
I had been wanting a new kitten for over a year. And I always thought that the name Onyx would be a great name for a black cat. I looked locally and the black kittens were either feral, no veterinary care or too expensive. But then I saw the story about this litter. And I just could not seem to put it out of my mind.
The story goes like this…Someone left a litter of kittens in a concrete parking lot in a metal cage. And there were two little ones that were hanging on for dear life. I know. I want to find those people and set them on fire too. People are just a special kind of evil for doing things like that. A lady saw them as she pulled up to the store and rescued them. And went to get veterinary care. She and her family also hand fed and spent countless hours and emotions making sure those two babies made it. A month later, I my heart told me, “That little girl is the one.”
Me and the owners talked, and I realized what this special little kitten would be for me. I met up with one of the owners at a neutral place. I got the kitten’s tiny little body out of her crate while she meowed. And I melted and then lost my breath all at once. That little girl melted my heart once I saw her. I lost my breath not from her beauty but from her tiny little “murder mittens” that reached out for safety and grabbed my boob. I felt like I had just been stabbed and was clinging to life. I’m pretty sure I dissociated too. I really hope the fear in my face and the gasp from my throat wasn’t noticed.
To keep from trying to make her a black cat when she is not, I have changed her name to Piper. And from what I can tell, the name suits her simply fine. We need each other. Her sisters Tink and Coco are not grateful for her arrival currently. I am guessing that it is because neither of them wanted to share lap space or cookies. I talked to them like toddlers saying, “We do not hiss and try to bite our friends. She is a kitten. Not a crocodile. And she is your sister.” They did not seem to care about the rationale. And they continue to hiss and sulk.
I am now at my “cat limit.” Me and my girls know how to do two things, “We know how to adapt to change and love.” We do not always do it with a smile on our faces and with love in our hearts. But little Piper is just what the three of us needed to complete our family unit.
Big brothers, Marshall and Copeland, will give her “a run for her money.” But they will no doubt love her too. She already speaks English and is sassy and mouthy just like her sisters. Stay tuned for more interactions with my three amigos. Welcome Home, Piper!
Thanks for reading! And Please Spay and Neuter Your Pets!
“An ally is someone who stands up even when they feel they can’t.”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. As Pride month begins to wrap up, I want to talk to you about a group of people that many of us LGBTQ+ people draw strength from. It’s our allies! This group of people are usually straight. But they stand up for different issues within the gay community that continually marginalize us. They are voices that stand up and say, “I’m straight. But your discrimination and hate is wrong.”
Our allies who are sometimes known as “fruit flies,” bring strength to our battles with equality. And they also love us for who we are versus many of our families who love us for “who they want us to be.” I will be the first to say that there are zero gay affirming people in my family. No matter who agrees or doesn’t agree, the gay person is here to stay. And I gladly wear the title of the “rainbow sheep” in the family.
There are those still who say, “We love you for who you are.” But they stand against equality and continue with their homophobic or transphobic comments. That, my friends, is not an ally. You just know someone who is gay. You cannot say that you’re ok with me being a lesbian and then speak out about how my transgender friends are wrong or abnormal. That’s hypocritical. You don’t have to be gay or trans to be active and say, “Equality should be for all and not just one gender or sexual orientation.”
Our transgender brothers and sisters need our support in the fight for their rights to be who and what they want to be. To be able to fight for our country on the frontlines for freedom. And to be able to use any damn toilet that matches the gender in which they identify. They do not want to harm you or your children. Individuals who have or are transitioning do not want to rip your genitalia off or steal whatever small amount of virginity you may have left. They simply want to empty their bladder and bowels.
I had a friend that I had a close relationship with one time. But when I came out to her, our friendship ended. That is what I call a conditional friend. As long as I was who they wanted me to be everything was ok. But when I told them who I really was, that was not acceptable. It is truly their problem and not mine. That is not an ally. That is an asshole. I know they both start with the letter “A,” and it can be confusing to some.
People have a misconception that anyone under the LGBTQ+ umbrella has an insatiable sexual appetite. And that we are lurking around to force straight people into gay submission. If I know that someone is straight, I will not cross the line by trying to seduce them. It’s call mutual respect. I know that there are creepy people that do that and are ok with that. I would simply call “bullshit” and tell them that it’s very disrespectful. But I know even more straight people who want to pound the gay out of us. It would be like someone forcing me to be straight. And I barf in my mouth just a little at the thought of ever having to pretend that I’m straight again. If someone who is gay comes on to you, simply tell them that you’re straight. Most of the time that is respected. And sometimes is just a faulty “GAYDAR.”
As a lesbian, the misconception that we want to run in and turn straight women gay is an absolutely ridiculous argument. And this is where our allies come into play. They not only love us for our authenticity, but they are also on the front lines of the pride banner to speak up against hate even when we are not around. Allies are another source of strength that can only be found within them. And for this, I am eternally grateful. Beautiful friendships and family relationships can be mended by being an ally.
In my family there are those who when discussing someone who is gay, they spell it. Like “Yea, I collaborate with this guy, and he is G-A-Y!” Let me help put your minds at ease, “You cannot catch the gay from saying someone is gay.” So, making the statement, “I love you because you’re my child or my family member.” Then to counter with, “Hate the sin, love the sinner” asserts that you hold yourself to a higher level because you know God better than he knows himself. When God actually spoke about loving everyone. And that no one deserves his love any more than the other. Jesus preached about equality and inclusion, not discrimination and hate. And from what I’ve seen in my life, there’s a lot of “cherry picking” of the Bible to satisfy an argument. God’s people are taught to spread his love. But some of them are the very ones who close the church doors when the gay people arrive. And if you are let in there is no shortage of stares and whispers.
If there was ever a group of people who I give the utmost respect, it would be our allies. I have always been one to stand up for the underdog in most situations. And I can promise you that it doesn’t always make me popular in a good way. So, for a “straight ally” to stand up for me and others, you will always be considered members of my Pride family.
A lot of us LGBTQ+ individuals create families among others, because our families are simply too rich in bigotry and self-righteousness to be considered a “safe place” that nurtures love and growth in a relationship. And I live in a “hotspot” of the country that has a lot of judgement and ignorance. They have simply become a wounding vessel and a very rigid group of people that do not deserve the time nor the energy to continue relationships with them. So, we form close ties and bonds with our allies instead.
I have used this phrase many times and it stems from my own family when I say, “If nothing changes, then nothing changes.” I have to hold my head high, turn around and walk away like a boss. And I walk right over to my ally’s house where love and acceptance isn’t only spoken, it’s shown. You can love me and stand up for our rights as we do. But you cannot say that you love me and think that neither I nor my friends are entitled to the same rights you have. I absolutely will NOT be a part of that in any way.
Thank you so many allies for everything that you do that we never know about. And thank you for showing us what the love of Christ is all about. Homophobes, transphobes, and the self-righteous thank you for showing me who I never want to be. As always, take what you can use and leave the rest. Keep smiling. Happy Pride Everyone!
Affirmation: I will not shrink myself for the comfort of others.
“It takes more than a sign, a fabulous outfit or a month of parades. Pride has to resonate from within; shine out to everyone around you. It has to mean something to you before you announce it to the world.”
-Solange Nicole
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. As we continue to celebrate Pride, I want to highlight some of my favorite gay celebrity comedians. There is nothing like good humor. It has been one of the top factors for how I survived a life of abuse. Comedy can be raunchy. However, I respect humor in any way that I can find it. And I really love being able to laugh at myself.
I have several personal favorite “out and proud” lesbian comedians. These include Wanda Sykes, Ellen, DeGeneres, Kate McKinnon, Fortune Feimster, Margaret Cho, Jessica Kirson, Tig Notaro and Mae Martin. There are many more lesbian comedians. These are just a few of my favorites. And the lesbian comedic icons Wanda Sykes and Ellen DeGeneres, in my eyes, are considered legends in the game.
Kate McKinnon has grown her gift of comedy, becoming a big presence on Saturday Night Live. And she is truly gifted. It doesn’t take long once you begin watching her to realize that she’s truly gifted. Jessica Kirson is a comedian that I saw for the first time on YouTube. Her style is doing crowd work. It is a style of comedy that engages with and interacts directly with the audience. It isn’t a set routine.
Two of my favorite southern lesbian comedians are Tig Notaro and Fortune Feimster. These two ladies are truly hilarious. They both incorporate some of the funny things from the southern way of life. Tig Notaro is from my home state of Mississippi. And Fortune Feimster is from South Carolina. You can tell through their comedy that they understand what it’s like being gay in the south. So, when I struggle with my southern reality, I find these guys somewhere on the internet and let the stress melt away. And first thing in the morning, I fix my cup of coffee and turn on the podcast with Tig, Fortune and Mae. The podcast is called “Handsome.” And I promise these guys, for the most part, keep it clean and hilarious. And it helps to wash away my morning grumpiness.
My favorite gay male comedian is Matt Mathews. Another individual from the south that owns his craft. He is hysterically funny! His material is typically offensive to most conservative thinkers. But to make no mistake his material is some of the best in my book. The audience is always roaring with laughter. He’s just beginning to get the recognition that he deserves.
Check out some of these comedians if you’re in the mood for some good laughs. Or when you’re not in the mood for laughs. Maybe it will be the pickup that you need for your day to continue. I used a few clips of Fortune Feimster in my blog this month about my personal “coming out “story. Thanks for reading! Subscribe to my blog and you’ll never miss another post. Keep smiling!
Affirmation: My laughter heals me even if I’m laughing at myself
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today I want to talk about one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. Coming out of the closet! Holy Cow what a topic! This is a topic that is as individual as a fingerprint. Anyone who has ever had to assert yourself as more than the typical “straight” person knows how very difficult it can be. My situation wasn’t any easier.
Growing up in the deep south of Mississippi you are expected to have a certain path to adulthood. Go to school. Graduated high school. Go to college for more school. Meet and marry someone of the opposite gender. Have children with your husband or wife. Always say, “For the bible tells me so.” And perpetuate this cycle. You are not to EVER consider loving someone of the same sex. But what if you, no matter how hard you try, cannot be straight? Apparently, no one has an answer for that. They just hide behind their bibles and tell you it’s wrong. This was even more pronounced because I live in the “Bible Belt” area of the state. Here’s my coming out story.
I knew at a young age that I was going to be different. I had no idea how or why. I just knew that it was how my life would be. I began having feelings about being gay when I was a teenager. I dare not tell anyone. The best thing I knew to do was keep it all hidden. I wasn’t overtly acting gay. I was just a “homie” to my guy friends. And I never really hung out with the girls unless I was excelling at the lesbian “gateway” sports of basketball and softball. I never really had many boyfriends because I wasn’t attracted to them. This was more out of choice. I just couldn’t seem to connect with any.
On top of all the tumultuous years of a trauma filled adolescence, I realized early on that I would also have to stuff my “authentic self” into a closet where I would remain until my 30s. I know. It sounds horrible and it was. I’ve always heard, “That parenting doesn’t come with a manual” and I truly believe that statement being a parent myself. But being a gay teen also doesn’t come with a manual. The only thing I’ve ever heard is that being gay is wrong. There was never really any explanation except that the Bible says so as they would claim. The topic about being gay was also attributed to getting HIV/AIDS. Yes, I grew up in the 80s. So for the longest time I thought that if anyone ever found out that I wasn’t straight, God would kill me with AIDS.
I took the bait of a man nineteen years older than me. I don’t really know why because I wasn’t attracted to men. He was incredibly abusive in various ways. And four years later, I would marry him. I knew that I wasn’t meant for him because the abuse escalated over the next ten years to a level that still horrifies me to this day. But I did, in fact, marry a man. I remember thinking, “No wonder everyone hates being married.” I continued in that marriage knowing that there was nothing about it that I truly loved, especially him. I did, however, continue being a wife and my wifely duties.
At one point I asked him, “Why are you being like this to me?” To which he replied, “Because the Bible told me so. I am the husband and you are the wife. And you are to do what I say.” And that was the end of the discussion. He would take this role to a very perverse level, always beating me over the head with the Bible to justify his actions including rape. I would eventually leave him and his abusive ways by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin. And it felt so good.
No more being ordered to perform sexual favors that I hated doing. And many times said “no” only to be told, “that if I didn’t that he would take it anyway.” No more pretending like I was happy in public and then crying tears in private. And it wasn’t just because he was so mean that I left. I just wasn’t “straight” and I couldn’t face another day of living that lie.
Six months later as we are going through a horrible divorce,he and his family’s threats and intimidation were just that. One day, though, I would be introduced to a woman who I knew instantly that I loved. We became very close friends very quickly. And we ended up “uhauling”like most lesbians do. For the first time in my life, I was going to love who I wanted to love versus being told who to love. And it was the most beautiful thing that I ever experienced. She was exactly who I wanted to be with.
Being a party to a scandalous relationship like the one with my ex-husband taught me “toughen up your skin because one day you will need that lesson to reflect on.” And I would soon come to understand what all of that meant. I was scared but confident because I felt that my family would understand having gone through hell with the ex. So, we sat with both of my parents and I told them that I was a lesbian and I loved Mel. Yep, that shit went over like “a turd in the punch bowl.” They would make it very clear that saying that she loved me for me didn’t matter. It only mattered that she had a vagina. I would also learn soon enough that the reaction was “because it would hurt their reputation and how that might impact their “church life.” It didn’t seem to matter that I could’ve died in that closet. Because I almost did.
I was hurt but I didn’t care. For once I was becoming my “authentic self”, one piece at a time. We moved away to Albuquerque, NM where we took solace in a lesbian group. Finally, though, we were free to love each other openly. And no one cared. We would go on to have two handsome little boys who call us mommas. And I continued fighting battles within my family over their ignorance. I still have family who won’t talk to me or let me be around their kids because, I guess their kids will catch the “gay virus” from me. And others, who won’t even acknowledge my existence because of how it looks in the family.
That hard lesson about having “thick skin” is that it has given me the strength to stand up for myself and others in the LGBTQ+ communities as we stand together demanding equality for all. These days there aren’t many people who try to debate those topics because my reputation of being a “verbal sniper” will shut them up very quickly. And my beautiful boys also know that no matter who they love or how they identify, it is absolutely ok. And that hateful things are said by people who stand behind the Bible in order to justify their right to be hurtful. And sometimes people ask you not to show up at the church because they don’t want anyone they know to see those beautiful rainbows. Maybe, however, it’s just because my light will shine too bright for their comfort level. What I had to learn through my process is that their ignorance is about them, not me.
You see, the Jesus I was always told about is someone who loves people no matter what gender or sexuality we are. Because we are made in “his” image. We are not made in his “straight” image. But when I came out, all of a sudden I was told how mad it would make him and how I would be punished. Apparently, there is a different mainline number than what I have in my phone.
I’m sorry. I just don’t believe that at all. I think that God is so proud of me for discovering my “authentic self” because I no longer live a lie. And having the courage to stand up for others who are abused by religion based on their gender or sexuality is not ok. My sons have asked me on more than one occasion, “Momma, how do you know that?” I tell them, “Son, because the Bible tells me so. And LOVE IS LOVE.”
I wasn’t built to live my life in a box or a closet. And neither are you. So if it goes against societal norms and makes me unpopular, then so be it. Keep fighting my LGBTQ+ family. Enjoy being authentically you. No one will ever have the power to love you like you do. Those rainbows make us look fabulous! Happy Pride everyone!
“There’s no right or wrong way to be gay. No right or wrong way to come out. It’s your journey, do it the way you wanna do it.”
“Gender is who you are. Sexuality is what you want.”
-C.N. Lester,”Trans Like Me: A Journey for All of Us”
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! What I have learned about the LGBTQIA+ community is that there is almost a separate language that has been devised over time. Most of the terms I already know. However, the evolution continues. The common theme, though, is that no matter how you identify or what you prefer, our communities are all about inclusion. You are free to be who and what you are. And that’s what has kept everything so powerful. So many of us have been shunned or seen as “less than” by our families of origin. Therefore, we find comfort and solace in our “chosen” families where we can all take refuge under that beautiful rainbow flag with our straight allies. As I continue to attempt to “stomp out stupidity,” I have made a list of common terms and their explanations. This is by no means a comprehensive list. There could be volumes written on this topic. I did, however, try to make a list of the most common. Happy Pride! And happy reading!
Pride community-Alphabet mafia, Friend of Dorothy, Skittle mafia, Rainbow mafia,Fruit flies(also known as someone who is heterosexual but hangs out with gay males or lesbians).
Symbols for the gay community– Unicorns, lavender rhinos, rainbow, butterflies (gender transitioning), lavender plants, pink triangle.
Running-shoe lesbian– over 35 who wear jogging shoes with everything.
Celesbian-a famous lesbian
High Femme– a lesbian woman who presents extremely feminine.
Baby Dyke– someone who recently came out as a lesbian.
Dykon– a famous woman (not necessarily gay), who is popular among lesbian women and seen as a gay icon.(Joan Jett, Melissa Etheridge, Ellen Degeneres. Portia de Rossi, Oprah, Laurel Holloman, Lady Gaga, Kate McKinnon, Lily Tomlin, Wanda Sykes.
Transitioning Individuals call the hormones of the opposite sex.
Titty skittles (estrogen pills)
Gender juice (HRT)
anti-HIS-tamines
Anti-boyotics
beach ball deflation
water balloon poppers
mammarinopes
Dic-tacs
Jack and Jill Party: A circle jerk that welcomed both gay men and lesbians who sometimes had sex with each other.
Fruit bat– People who associate with lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people may be called fruit flies regardless of their sex.
Dopplebanger– someone who is attracted to others who look like themself.
Motorboating– the activity of putting one’s face between a woman’s breasts, and rocking, turning one’s head rapidly from side to side while making a noise like a motorboat.
Uhauling– a relationship that moves very quickly and the couple moves in together.
Gay Water– instead of mineral or sparkling water
Pillow princess– someone who prefers to receive sex rather than giving sex. This is not just in the gay community.
Cottaging – having or seeking anonymous gay sex in a public toilet, or ‘cottage’ (UK)
Down-low– homosexual or bisexual activity, kept secret, by men who have sex with men.
Femme– a feminine homosexual
Gaydar– the supposed ability to detect someone’s sexual orientation.
Gaussian – a gay Asian person
Gold star– a homosexual who has never had heterosexual sexual intercourse with the opposite sex.
Platinum Star(male)-gay male is someone who was delivered as a baby by C-section
Platinum Star(female)– gay female is an individual who has never slept with a man and was born via vaginal birth, meaning the first thing they ever touched was a vagina.
Prison Brides-Are individuals who engage in homosexual relationships while in prison.
Guydyke or lesboy – a man attracted to lesbian/bisexual women,
Scissoring – used to refer to lesbian intercourse.
Cock blocking– (male) someone who interferes with flirting, making out or having sex you’re interested in.
Cliterference– (female) someone who interferes with flirting, making out or having sex with someone you’re interested in.
Beach bitch – a gay man who frequents beaches and resorts for sexual encounters.
Top– usually the more dominant partner.
Bottom – a receptive partner in intercourse; also used as a verb for the state of receiving sexual stimulation.
Power bottom – someone who dominantly plays the receptive role in intercourse.
Otter-refers to a gay man who is slender and hairy, a middle ground between a “twink” and a “bear.”
Baby butch – a young and boyish lesbian
Bambi lesbian – a lesbian who prefers cuddles, hugs, kisses, and other affectionate and sensual non-sexual acts over sexual acts
Hasbian – a woman who previously identified as lesbian but now identifies as heterosexual.
Lesbian until graduation (LUG) – a young woman who is assumed to be temporarily experimenting with same-sex behavior, but will ultimately have heterosexual identity.
Lipstick lesbian – a lesbian/bisexual woman who displays historically feminine attributes such as wearing make-up, dresses, and high heels
Soft butch – an in between femme and butch
Stone butch – a very masculine lesbian, or a butch lesbian who does not receive touch during intercourse, only giving.
Stud – a black butch
Chicken – a youthful gay man
Chubby chaser – a man seeking overweight males
Daddy – a typically older gay male.
Twink − a youthful, slim,flamboyant gay man.
Bear – a larger and often hairier man. The bear subgroup is among the oldest and largest of the LGBTQ community. Pride.com states “Bears are on the heavier side, either muscular, beefy, or chunky. They wouldn’t dream of shaving their body hair (which comes in abundance) and they usually have a full beard to match.”
Cub– a younger bear. Pride.com describes cubs as “baby bears” or “large, hairy guys in their teens and 20s who are on their way to becoming a bear.
Bear chaser – a man who seeks out and pursues bears
Wolf – Pride.com says, “Similar to an otter, a wolf has some hair and is in between a twink and a bear. Wolves typically have a lean, muscular build and are sexually aggressive. Wolves are “typically older and masculine” with a muscular/athletic build.
Bull– Pride.com says a bull is a “hunky, muscular” bodybuilder who weighs 200 pounds or more. Attitudesays bulls have a “super-muscular build” with any hair style, and can be any age.
Chicken – a young twink. Chickens are hairless and young with a slim or skinny build.
Chicken hawk – an older man who seeks younger men. From chickenhawk, a designation for several birds which are thought to hunt chickens.
Pig – someone who is focused on sex than anything else, often into kinkier and sexual practices.
Silver fox – an older man with gray hair.
Bi-sexual– sexually attracted to both genders
Pansexuality does not mean bi-sexuality. It is an attraction to personalities, not a specific gender.
Questioning– people who are unsure of sexual identity, orientation, gender or all three.
Cisgender-gender identity who corresponds to their birth, not transgender.
Asexual– someone who experiences little or no sexual attraction to others.
Intersexed– a person who is born with both genitalia, chromosomes and/or hormones.
Leather subculture denotes practices and styles of dress organized around sexual activities that involve leather garments, such as leather jackets, vests, boots, chaps, harnesses, or other items. The New York Stonewall Riots in 1969, members of the leather community stood next to drag queens to fight for equality; it was an act that kicked off the modern-day LGBT rights movement. And it brought the leather culture out into the light. The Leather Community supports both within and from the LGBT community.
The Puppy movement involves both men and women wearing canine-shaped hoods and walking on all fours, just like a real puppy—or bio-puppy, as they are referred to.
“A leather boy is trained and it is a militant situation where the boy is there to serve a master. But a boy has a voice in the family. The puppy aspect is totally different. When you are in pup space, you are just going with whatever happens.”
Golden Showers– part of the philias where an individual gets off to someone peeing on them.
Kink subculture happens in both heterosexual and homosexual communities.
Two-Spirit: A term used by some Indigenous peoples in North America to describe people who embody both male and female spirits.
Furries • Xenophilia is the term for the sexual attraction to furry characters.Furries are people who identify with animals who have human characteristics, like cartoon characters. “Furry” is not considered a gender identity; it is a term referring to someone who has an interest in anthropomorphic animals, meaning animals with human characteristics, and is considered a fandom or hobby, not a personal identity related to gender. People who identify as “furries” are interested in creating or engaging with animal characters with human traits, not necessarily claiming to be an animal themselves.
I hope that some of these terms have helped to educate you on some of the language in the pride community. Some of these terms and classifications differ depending on where you are located. Take what you can use and leave the rest. Be who you are. And love who you are. Thanks for reading! Happy Pride!
“Shine with pride, because your light helps to brighten the world.”
“Do not allow people to dim your shine because they are blinged. Tell them to put on some sunglasses, because we were born this way.”
-Lady Gaga
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! You know what today is? I’ll give you a hint. It’s my favorite time of the year. IT”S GAY PRIDE MONTH! Everyone fly those flags and love who you love. I think those who are new to the pride family and are newly allied deserve to know just why we love pride month so much.
On June 28, 1969 (no pun intended), the NYPD raided the Stonewall Inn. Raids at gay bars where the patrons and employees inside were interrogated while a crowd gathered outside. The sum of everyone fought back, and police barricaded themselves in the Stonewall Inn. The mob’s resistance went on all night, and continued for days in protests across New York City.
A year later in June 1970 activists marched throughout the streets to commemorate the riots. It was called the Christopher Street Liberation Day where sparsely attended and encountered protests because of the outlandish costumes that some marchers wore.and is known as the first Pride Parade. Other pride celebrations were in cities like Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Chicago (bryanuniversity.edu, 2024). Pride is used to describe the community’s solidarity, identity and resistance to discrimination (britannica.com, 2025).
In 1978, the symbol representing Gay Pride first made its debut in San Francisco. It was the rainbow flag. The original flag consisted of eight colors (hot pink-sexuality, red-life, orange-healing, the sun-yellow, green-nature, blue-art, indigo-harmony and violet for spirit). The colors were tweaked a bit because of the unavailability of fabric colors. The demonstrations focused on participants’ being proud to be out of the closet regarding individual freedom and diversity of the LGBTQ community.
In the 1980’s, after the spreading of AIDS, pride events focused on the social issues of the time. The LBGTQ community increased among the straight community, politician sympathies and gay-friendly businesses and corporations began participating in the marches. The popularity began spreading across the globe. Large cities such as Amsterdam, Chicago, London, Mexico City, New York, Paris, San Francisco and Sao Paulo attract several hundred thousand to more than a million annually. Stiff resistance in Jerusalem, Moscow and Warsaw but pride has still continued.
The groups of people who identified as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender or queer who felt empathy and solidarity based on shared experiences of prejudice, discrimination and disrespect or awareness of oppression were all included in the acronym LGBTQ. The acronym has again changed to include those who are “questioning,” “intersex,” and “agender” to LGBTQIA or LGBTQ+ (britannica.com, 2025).
In 1999, President Bill Clinton officially declared June as Gay and Lesbian Pride month. In 2009, President Barack Obama named it Lesbian, Gay, bisexual, and Trangender Pride Month. In 2016, President Obama designed the Stonewall Inn and the surrounding area as a national museum. And it was the first national monument that honored LGBTQ+ rights (bryanuniversity.edu, 2024). However, there is still the ongoing fight for equality and inclusion.
As of 2015, the Supreme Court ruled in Obergefell v. Hodges that same-sex couples have the right to marry in all 50 states. The ruling also declared that same-sex couples have the same rights under the law as opposite-sex couples. This includes Social Security, health insurance and retirement savings. Most Americans agree that legalizing same-sex marriage is good for society.
In 2017, our country and communities witnessed the protections for LGBTQ people across the entire federal government. While President Biden reversed many of those attacks, Trump promised to go back even further on LGBTQ rights if re-elected. And sadly that has happened. Project 2025, has removed anti-discrimination policies. And on day one of his current presidency he began to eliminate protections for transgender students. This began to strip LGBTQ individuals of protections against discrimination in many areas including employment, housing, education, healthcare, and other federal programs. And to date has kicked many transgender military personnel of their livelihood (aclu.org, 2025).
Ask yourself, “how does gender identity determine when, where and how your “battle buddy” pulls a trigger? Aren’t our troops, regardless of how they identify, fighting for the freedoms of the same nation? Trangender soldiers are of no significant threat to anyone else in the military. Because when it comes down to protecting my six, it doesn’t matter how someone identifies in gender or sexuality, if the trigger gets pulled and I live to fight for freedom another day.
Our fight for equality will continue just like it began. We will be loud and proud no matter what our government or religion does to try and destroy our pride. We will be there with our colors on challenging everyone that there be justice for all. The LGBTQ communities will continue to demand that we be included in the preamble of the constitution which reads, “WE THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.” Stonewall will never die! Thanks for reading! Happy Pride Everyone!
“If I wait for someone else to validate my existence, it will mean that I’m short changing myself.”
“There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: Music and cats.”
-Albert Schweitzer
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. One of my favorite things to do is writing captions and dialogs about my cats Tink and Coco. They both have a very extensive vocabulary. And even more developed is their imagination and view on life. Coco is a very dominant shorthair grey tabby who takes her seniority very seriously. And Tink is a very submissive calico who thinks that the closer she is with her momma, the happier she is. She does, however, have one major problem. She likes to “crop dust” her farts all over my house and on me. She has absolutely no conscience about doing so. Now, sit for a few minutes and enjoy reading, “Tink and the Fart.”
Tink: “Oh that’s a good one!!”
Coco: “Tink did you fart?!”
Tink:”Yes. I was playing with our shiny toy balls and my stomach slammed on breaks and said, “Fart Now! Fart Now!” So I did and I feel better.”
Coco: “Well I’m on the brink of death! Who or what did you eat?!”
Tink: “I don’t have to tell you anything!”
Coco: “I know your butt told me what you did!”
Tink: “Momma!!!!!”
Me: “What is that screaming?! OMG, Tink did you fart?”
Coco: “Yes Ma’am. And I think she summoned a demon when she did it. She did it under the sign you had posted.”
Tink: “Yes sorry. It slipped.”
Me: “Coco, what are you doing?!”
Coco: “I’m looking for good air anywhere I can find it.”
Me: “In the sock drawer, really?”
Coco: “I was desperate. Momma hurry grab the zofran!!”
Me: “Coco y’all are such drama queens.”
Coco: “But I can’t breathe and I see Nannie!”
Tink: “That’s right. You big baby!”
Me: “Hold up. If you farted and are now seeing Nannie that means you are close to death.”
Coco: “You have no idea how close. you’re going to pay big for that one, Tink!”
Coco: “Mama, now I’m seeing Nannie and Jesus! I see the bright light, too!!!!”
Me: “Where, Coco, where?”
Coco: “They’re on the ceiling.”
Me: “Coco stop looking at the ceiling!!!”
Coco: “Where did the bright light, Nannie and Jesus go?”
Me: “Coco, you were not about to die. You were looking at the lights on the ceiling fan.”
Coco: “But what about Nannie and Jesus?”
Me: “Nope. Seeing Jesus after cat fart poisoning is highly unlikely.”
Coco: “But mama? I could’ve died. Tink, you better not ever close your eyes!!!”
Me: “Coco you better not hurt her. Remember SHELTER!! 2 female cats = Drama”
“Love is like a fart, it comes unexpectedly.”
-Unknown
Affirmation: “I embrace my farts and all their glory.”
“Happy 420 Eve to those who celebrate. Don’t forget to leave your grinders out before bed so that Snoop Dogg can come down your chimney and roll you a joint.”
-Morganwizard
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Happy 420 Eve! Today is all about wrapping up preparations for 420. I hope you’ve got all your products bought and ready. I know that I’m ready and waiting for my own visit from Snoop Dogg. And I’ll definitely have some of his songs on my playlist waiting in tow.
If you haven’t already bought your cannabis for 420, you have a few more hours for some last minute shopping adventures. Most dispensaries have already been in full swing with sales for the last couple of weeks. And by now their products have been picked over. But someone will always have cannabis products readily available.
I have my concentrates ready for my hourly hard hitting dabs. I’m loving my song selections. Food and friends are lined up. Movies have been selected. Pipes are cleaned. Strains have been selected. Grinders are cleaned and ready for action. And so are my silicone dabbing set resembling a nectar collector. And there is always a copy of High Times Magazine to enjoy some much needed reading on product and strain reviews. Even if they are from several years back. I am beyond excited! If you cannot attend a cannabis smoke out event, creating your own 420 at home can be just as enjoyable. And I am lit already!
Some of my personal favorite strains are Mike Tyson’s Knockout, Apple Tart and Comatose. They are fire! Don’t let these names fool you. These strains are very strong. And are topping out in the 25-30% THC. For my concentration, Ole Bliss budder is a favorite as well as some unhinged shatter. There is only one more celebration that takes precedence over this day for me. Gay Pride! I’ll also be celebrating Pride with some pride worthy strain names. That will be revealed later. A close third place is 710 which is the day that we as concentrate users (“oil heads”) dab all day long.
As I prepare for Santa Snoop, I lay out a blunt wrap, rolling papers or a cone. Some concentrate to be mixed in with flowers or to smear on a blunt wrap. And it will all be rolled into one luxurious and very strong blunt that will have you forgetting where to find the cheetos and how to get there. This year 420 falls on Easter. I will eat one boiled egg. And then hide my painted red potatoes for the easter potato hunt. The reason I’m using potatoes is because I can’t afford an entire dozen eggs anymore. And I will thank Jesus once again for this beautiful plant and the bounty before me.
Whatever you choose to do for 420, make it a special event where everyone who’s invited is able to chill and be happy along with you. If you are alone, “Do you boo-boo!” Because I will certainly be doing me. I will be posting pictures on both my This Puzzled Life Facebook, Instagram, Bluesky, and Tumblr accounts. If you want, subscribe to this blog and follow me on those accounts so that you never miss a blog that I post. Now I am going to spend a little time with Snoop Dogg and Willie Nelson. Happy 420 Eve Everyone!
“If you ever miss 4:20, just wait until 4:22. Because 4:22 is 4:20, too.”
“Never underestimate a cycle breaker. Not only did they experience years of generational trauma, but they stood in the face of the trauma and fought to say, “This ends with me.” This comes at a significant cost. Never underestimate a cycle breaker.”
-Nate Postlewait
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today, I want to talk about being a “cycle breaker.” This has been one of the most difficult areas of my life. There have been and still are areas of my life where I’m determined to break the cycle of unhealthy thoughts, behaviors and relationships. Even if you think that your family should be the “example family” for the community, there are probably still issues within your particular family system that has left a legacy of a behavioral way of life. Sometimes this is healthy, dysfunctional or toxic. Even if it appears to primarily affect one person, it’s still an unhealthy family cohesiveness.
I think we first must understand what a “cycle breaker” is. This individual is intentionally trying to change multi-generational family patterns. They have to get down in the gutters into family origins of the behaviors to seek out unhealthy patterns. This person must achieve deep introspection and intentional behavior changes. And “Oh how very frustrating this can be.”
I have already written many times about how familial patterns can affect us all. What frustrated me as a minor was that I felt completely powerless to change anything including myself. What I did was take on the role of a survivor in any way possible. I fought back in ways that scared people. I have fought back in ways that isolated myself. Sometimes I get so triggered by a tone, word or a statement that it throws me back into that fighting stance. And I developed armor that worked so incredibly well for self-preservation. By the time I reached adulthood, the armor that my mind created for itself was one that knew no bounds. Every day of my life involved a fight for survival. But even when I removed myself from the abuse, my brain still thought that it was “fight time.” So, the chaos followed me everywhere I went. I so desperately wanted away from the chaos. But the fact of the matter was that I didn’t know how to operate in healthy relationships.
When I met Mel, I had just left my ex-husband. I had my goal of completing my education and there was nothing that would prevent me from finishing. Somehow, I just knew that education would make a significant difference in my life. What we soon realized was how very deeply rooted my lifetime of trauma was in my ability to function as a professional, spouse, mother, friend and family member. I honestly thought that once I left “him” things would go back to a healthier version of normal. But it absolutely did not! I would have uncontrollable rages that scared everyone that I came in contact with. Many times, I have no recollection of this happening. Then Mel started videoing me when I was like that to show professionals what was happening. She would also show me the video and I was horrified. I clearly remember telling her, “I would never do something like that!” But frame by frame I watched it happen repeatedly. Perplexed by the whole situation, I began trying to really understand my behavior. I didn’t have a therapist, at the time, who could tell me what was happening. I did eventually receive the diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder which answered many questions.
The more I studied myself, the more that I realized that I was carrying on the cycle of past traumas. While my armor worked for many years, it had suddenly become very detrimental. I looked at Mel one day and said, “Oh My God! I’m treating you like he treated me.” To come to that realization was the defining moment of when I decided that I would be a “cycle breaker.” And what a terribly slow and arduous process it has been. I didn’t know how to think. I didn’t understand the intense emotions that I was feeling. And I couldn’t stop the rage no matter what I did. I saw the destruction that I was causing and the effects that it was having on both me and Mel. And it was honestly one of the most devastating points in my life.
I initially had a very compassionate therapist in Albuquerque. Though the depth of my trauma needed more specialization. So, I went to another therapist, who was extremely narcissistic, and began emotionally abusing me. She knew all of my trauma history, but she still dominated me emotionally. And I “cow towed” to her like I was still being controlled by the ex. I stayed much longer than I should’ve. And the damage that was done was colossal.
Mel contacted a professional at a facility and told her about how dire our situation was. It was over a year before I finally decided to go to treatment. I have had some horrible experiences with mental health facilities. And the trauma of that also made me strike out in fear and anger. It’s almost like having a baby with a colic. No matter where I turned, I was scared, and it showed. But through my trauma, I learned that nicely asking someone to stop or leave me alone didn’t work. What did seem to work was aggression. However, now there were no actual threats. They were perceived threats. I felt like I could trust no one. I was drowning in shame and regret. And I was literally dying.
The therapist that I would work with at that facility was absolute fire. She sat with me and truly made a place that was emotionally very safe for me. She provided boundaries that were firm but compassionate. She didn’t show fear about the anger that I was exhibiting. And unbelievably, I was furious that she cared. Because in my mind, everyone has a dark side even those who say their “safe.” And this spicy lady knew her stuff. After my experiences, I saw where the power difference was threatening. I was scared to be vulnerable, yet again, knowing that I could get hurt.
That woman is someone I still call my “coach.” We have been working together for almost 9 years, and because I eventually stepped out into vulnerability and realized that she was truly a “safe” person that she claimed, I started wanting to change the person that I had become. I needed to know the love and compassion in a way that only a stranger can exhibit. And I needed to know that the difficult road ahead would not be one that I would walk alone. I needed to know that when things got bad, she wouldn’t leave me standing with the pieces of my shattered soul in disbelief that it could and would happen again. And she’s been my “ride or die” ever since.
The process has been going on for almost a decade of trying to break the cycle of abuse. It has been more difficult than I care to admit. Along the way, many times the only thing I was able to do in a day was breathe. She stepped up when others said, “Hell No,” to helping me. And despite so many times that I have tried to push her away, she has stayed right there witnessing the miracle happening.
Our families of origin often have problems with healthy functionality. Instead of addressing issues within the system, they say, “Oh we’ll just let it all die down and eventually the issue will go away.” But it doesn’t. In my experience of helping addicts who usually also have mental health issues, the families are often times sicker than the “problem child.” There have been generations of a one-way type of thinking that families think and assert their beliefs that it should continue simply because it’s familial. However, when you look closer the “cycle breaker” , they are sometimes seen as a troublemaker because they step out from the familial shadows and say, “Enough is enough. I will no longer buy into that way of thinking. I will no longer allow unhealthy behaviors to be swept under the rug and conform like I’m expected to do.”
I have had members in my family that have looked at me crazy and run me in the ground for speaking my truth the minute I walk away. And there are some who won’t even acknowledge my existence. These issues never get resolved and are the perfect breeding ground for anger and resentment. And it has continued to fester in my family. Whenever you become vulnerable and stand in your truth, there will be those who inevitably do not like it. Because challenging unhealthy behaviors isn’t easy. It requires a level of vulnerability and self-awareness that most individuals and families want but aren’t willing to do the work to achieve it.
For me, breaking the cycle of dysfunctional thinking and living has been paramount to my survival. I realized that I had to be willing to look at some difficult areas of my life. And to understand many of their origins. I have cried more tears than I can count in doing this work. My relationship with Mel was severely damaged because I wasn’t able to undo the destruction that I had caused. No matter how much I didn’t understand it. No matter how much I didn’t want it to happen. It still did.
I came back from that treatment facility, and I told her, “She’s the one.” And about a year later, I told Mel, “If I don’t move to Texas and do this work, I won’t be alive much longer.” So, as difficult as it was to leave her, I left for Texas. I’ve never regretted my decision. I am living because I got “sick and tired of being sick and tired.” And now when I see red flags about chaos, I do my best to avoid it. However, I will not be pushed around emotionally. I will not have my reality questioned because others are not self-aware enough to realize their own dysfunctional behaviors. That, my friends, is all the confirmation that I need to know that, YES, I am a “cycle breaker.” I might not can change everything. But I can change me. I have the power to break the cycle, and I am doing it. It is becoming my greatest legacy for myself, my children and a little corner of humanity.
“It’s up to us to break generational curses when they say, “it runs in the family” you tell them, “this is where it runs out!”
“Nothing is more creative…nor destructive…than a brilliant mind with a purpose.”
-Dan Brown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Wow. I had no idea that I would write about this topic today. And it’s a concept that has haunted me for many years. What is my purpose in life?
Is my purpose to see how many punches I can take and still walk out of the fire alive? Ok. I’ve done that and continued to do that on a daily basis. Is it to conform to societal standards of what “normal” is? That will never be me. Is it to tackle difficult subjects that make people cringe? You’re getting warmer. Well, let me see if I can discern the information that I know without a doubt.
1. I love helping people. Helping people is a burden on your soul. You don’t decide to help people because of a dollar sign. Helping people whether on an ambulance or in an addiction facility has always been my niche. My actions are done because of a calling that I was born to do. If anyone needs help and I can provide it, I will. That is one of the things that my family dynamics impressed upon me.
2. Helping and caring for animals. You also don’t just decide to have compassion for animals. Some people say these things and yet I watch them beat their animals without constraint. My ex-husband has always said that he was an animal lover. That is the farthest thing from the truth. I’ll never forget the screams of my animals when he would take a belt, in the middle of the night, and go beat them. And I was completely powerless to defend them. When I left that horribly abusive situation, my animals were killed. My animals and the other animals that I interact with are my kids. I learned a long time ago, that I could trust animals when I couldn’t humans.
3. Speaking up about difficult topics. I have no problem talking about really difficult topics in society. Sometimes it doesn’t make me the most popular person. And I don’t care. The topics of racism, mental illness, addiction, abuse, medical cannabis, suicide, self-harm, sexual abuse, puberty, predators, LGBTQ+ equality, rape, parenting or any other topic that makes us cringe. What you don’t see is how sometimes I struggle discussing them. Part of that is because of how I was raised. In the deep south, we are taught to not create any waves as it might reflect poorly on the family. And to know our places as children which was to always respect your elders without question. But what if you are a bystander to something that is abusive, and you don’t speak up? That’s what keeps me up at night. The personal information that I blog about that has happened or is currently happening in my life isn’t always pretty. And I realize that I’m not the savior who can swoop in and rescue people. I can, however, do my part as a human being. And, yes, I still worry about things that I cannot control and still become obsessions.
4. Writing is a passion. I began writing out of necessity. When I left my abusive therapist, I felt completely broken. The person I went to for help betrayed me in a way that continues to affect me. And unless you have been abused, you have no idea the hurdles that would have to be overcome to continue moving forward. And the complete disconnect between your emotions and your brain So, I began writing about topics that were affecting me in that moment. And suddenly, I began to get relief even if I hadn’t found the answers that I needed. I finally felt like I had a voice that deserved to be heard. I was tired of remaining quite as I had been expected to do my whole life. That’s when I realized that I wasn’t all those names that I had been called. I was someone who had information and experiences to share in order to help others. I have always felt alone no matter how many people I was around or despite the number of smiles that I put on my face. Blogging itself is a platform to help others in similar situations understand that they are not alone. Had someone just explained to me that my situations were not ok and that millions of people, worldwide, suffer in silence as I have, maybe that sense of loneliness would’ve diminished. However, when it’s happening to you especially all of the manipulation and brainwashing that occurs, you cannot see past the moment. Abuse leaves you questioning everything about the next person and even those in my family. I knew one thing for sure, I could not remain quiet.
5. Humor brings me enjoyment. Humor has always been one of my greatest coping skills. I go through life as a literal thinker. So, if someone has a “Freudian slip” I will laugh myself silly even if that slip up was from myself. Humor a lot of times was used against me to make me a public spectacle. And it was done in a very demeaning way. As a way of life, I learned how to beat someone to the punch on a smartass comment. I always try to see the humor in most situations. And when there is no humor, I will find a way to interject some of my own. This gets me in trouble sometimes because that’s not conforming to those around me. And I’m expected to just let crazy happenings go without acknowledgment. That’s like putting a plastic bag over my head and being expected to breathe when the air is gone. I will always point out the sometimes-ridiculous way a situation looks. And I’ll probably write a note about it in my phone to use at a later date. I’m not right or wrong. It’s just how I operate.
My passion and purpose is to help others understand that just because you have taken the broken road in life doesn’t mean that you still can’t achieve happiness and also help others. I write about a lot of maladaptive behaviors that I continue to struggle with. But I also share my experience, strength and hope with those need that need the validation that they are not inherently bad or unworthy of happiness, love and inclusion. I still struggle with that concept. If you are a human being, you will fail. You will fall. You will be forced to confront your demons head-on. And it will scare the literal shit out of you. You will be forced to look at your part in situations. If you do not, you will remain stuck. You except your responsibility and move on whether or not the others do the same. You are responsible for only your feelings and emotions that are constantly changing. If they don’t except their responsibility, then they will shift the blame back to you. Push that shit out of the way. Hold your head high. And leave those people like a boss. You are worthy. You are loved. And you are enough!
“Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder. Help someone’s soul heal. Walk out of your house like a shepherd.”
“Other than dying, I think puberty is about as rough as it gets.”
-Rick Springfield
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today, I want to talk about that horrible stage in life called PUBERTY! I know, I know. I feel like I just got acid dumped on me for saying that name. These days I have found the evil older sister called menopause.
I personally don’t know how I got through puberty. I started understanding the confusion of being gay. The hormonal changes made me psycho. I began learning about relationships and how they change. I remember thinking that I took everything so personally. Horrible trauma was a constant. I became an addict in so many different ways. I was also incredibly impulsive. I don’t ever remember considering the consequences about anything. It was all about if “they” said no, DO IT! Little did I know, I would get permanently stuck in that developmental age. My body might’ve gotten older but I have not really aged emotionally. Trauma manages to stunt your emotional growth. And I was going through more than my fair share while my brain was still developing.
I was never taught boundaries growing up. I didn’t have any personal boundaries and perpetrators are boundaryless by nature. It was the perfect set up for things to go horribly wrong and they did. Our class went through so much trauma within about five years that we had to grow up incredibly fast. By the time I was a senior, I was emotionally searching for something that could provide me with some kind of hope. And that’s when my ex-husband made his predatory move. Many of us have become addicts in different ways. And sadly, many of my classmates have attempted suicide, completed suicide, died from drug overdoses or have gone to prison. It was so tumultuous, in fact, that I totally retract at the mention of the word.
As I have watched my oldest son, Marshall, go head first into that time period, I would be lying if I didn’t say how scared I am for him. The world is so much more violent. Bullying is much worse. Suicides and murders are out of control. School shootings are happening all over the country. Predators show even less restraint. Depending on where you live in the United States being free to express your sexuality can also be very traumatic. Pressure about having perfect grades and being accepted into top college programs has stolen the happiness of a child’s developmental process. And then there’s fentanyl that tops it all. I hate to sound like an old fart by saying that the world was just different then but it was.
I think now there’s more emphasis on developmental mental health which is always a positive. Cell Phones have been able to record evidence of some of these covert things especially with abusive teachers. And finally these kids have the proof that administrators can’t blow off. But the shame and rejection by families and society doesn’t make life any easier. Perpetrators whether they be peers or adults still operate in the same way. Threats and intimidation is what keeps kids silent and in constant fear. And you put all of that onto a teen and they just can’t handle it. I have overheard people talking about suicide and the person said, “Sometimes life is just too damn hard for these kids.” I know my kids well and I pay attention to everything that I can while co-parenting with their other mom and her partner. We all have a very open type of relationship. However, it scares the absolute shit out of me, because most people thought that I was perfectly fine. And I was the farthest thing from that.
You can follow all the latest research and suggested ways of raising a child but they can still carry with them their own darkness even in plain sight. I would hope that my boys would come to me for anything. But the truth is, that may or may not happen and the consequences can be devastating. And if that’s not resolved in a healthy way then they carry that emotional weight into adulthood. It will be interesting 20 years from now to see the problems that these kids have as adults. Because the struggles that kids are facing now will resurface in some way.
I have laughed many times at the funny sides of puberty by watching my kids. Especially when little brother,Copeland, and his frustrations with Marshall. Sometimes it’s just plain hilarious. At 10 years old, he asks his own questions about puberty. I try to be mature about some of it but it’s a futile effort. Sometimes I laugh so hard that I can hardly breathe. Copeland loves to call his brother out anytime he gets the chance. Not to mention the fact that bathing is an evil necessity and seems to be the main thing that gets in the way of their happiness at this moment. Here is an example of a conversation that I witnessed one day:
Me: “What’s that smell?”
Copeland: “Probably my brother.”
Marshall: “Why did you say that?”
Copeland: “Because it’s true! Momma Mel said that you stink and it’s a sign of puberty. Even if you don’t have hair on your balls yet.”
I made a quick stop to the bathroom because my bladder can’t handle as much laughter as it once did. Whew…I met it half way. I had to laugh into a towel.
I asked them:
Copeland: “Puberty and why he stinks.”
Me: “What are y’all talking about?”
(I start giggling)
I cannot seem to be mature about certain topics. And this was a stunning example.
Copeland: “Momma Mel says that you get hair everywhere.”
Me: “Yep one day you’ll have hairy tits, pits and a ball-fro on your cherries.”
(We all laughed.)
Me: Now who wants the shower first? Nuts and butts!!! Let’s go!!!
At this time in my life, I do my best to still laugh at their innocence. We take one day and one argument at a time. I correct them when I need to . But I also let them have the freedom to say what they feel that they need to say within reason. And I help them the best I can to deal with feelings. I also let them know that feelings are just feelings and they don’t last forever. So that when they’re almost fifty years old they don’t have to suffer with not ever knowing that the concept ever existed. So, maybe, just maybe, they can begin to understand that emotions aren’t terminal. And that all the power that they need is found from within themselves instead of in all the temptations on the outside that lead to even bigger problems.. And they won’t be forever stuck in an insufferable and totally self-obsessed hell.
“To make mistakes is human; to stumble is commonplace. To be able to laugh at yourself is maturity.”
-William Arthur Ward
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy goes away. Okie dokie! Today I want to tell you about one of my follies. I began many years ago working for a local veterinarian. Ok, it was a long time ago. I wasn’t surprised because my love and very strong connection with animals just led me in that direction. Then the opportunity presented itself so that I could house sit people’s pets while they were away. I have taken care of dogs, cats, frogs, pigs and others that at one time or another had their own follies. This was one of those times.
I was housesitting a little, old poodle named Abby. This old girl is spicy in her own way. She is so sassy, in fact, that when her owners are gone she DEMANDS that I give her multiple treats every time I go see her. While I enjoy spending time with her, we have our own schedule for how we do things. I go to her house and open the door and start looking for her. Being an aged girl, sometimes she doesn’t hear me walk in. I frantically begin looking for her when I don’t see her because in my mind I’m looking for a body. She is in great health to be so old. But the thought that nature will act when I least expect it is one of my greatest fears. I couldn’t find her initially. But I soon find her lying in her cozy bed sound asleep. So, I gently start petting her and startled when she awakens with the look of, “How did you get in here without me knowing?” I always act excited to see her so that she knows that everything is ok on my end of the relationship. However, this particular night had much more in store for me than I bargained for.
I take her outside as usual for her night time potty session. Before I lock up for the night I always make sure that she has food and water available in both areas of the house that have been designated in advance. I walk to the back of the house and enter a back bedroom. What I saw horrified me. There is a purse that has been knocked to the ground and everything strewn from within including lipstick. Naturally, I think, “Oh no! Someone has gotten into the house and robbed Jojo and Poppy!” I look around the room and notice that a family picture has been knocked off the wall and I think, “I have watched many hours of true crime shows and know that these signs are because of something personal.” Then I get really scared. I make a mental note and then begin constructing a plan for how I would reach safety. I can’t scream or make any loud noises because if the criminal was still in the house I could get murdered. I know. My past trauma has led to this moment.
I quickly walk back through the house with my eye on the front door. I also pay very close attention when moving past other doorways while keeping an eye out for intruders. I have a feeling that this night could be my last. I finally make it to the front door and out I go. I don’t know why I didn’t think of Abby at this moment. Apparently, though, I must’ve thought everyone for himself. I make it to the middle of the driveway and call my daddy who lives directly across the street. With a shaking voice and body I tell him, “Jojo and Poppy’s house has been robbed.” I explained what I had seen and he said he would come over and check things himself. When he makes it to where I’m standing I begin telling the story all over again. As you can imagine, I was very animated.
We walked back into the house together. I am thinking, “Now both me and my daddy are going to die!” I followed him while telling him, “Daddy be careful they could still be in here.” We finally made it to the back bedroom and I showed him exactly what I had seen. He began to look things over and we saw a pack of saltine crackers in one of the recliners that had been absolutely demolished. I said, “Crap! The intruder needed a snack!” So, now I’m positive that the criminal is well nourished and ready to kill. He walks over to where a picture in a frame laid face down on the floor. I said to him, “See that’s what I was telling you.” He bent down to pick it up and he said, “Dana, this is a scale for someone to weigh on.” My eyesight has failed me on numerous occasions. And apparently this was another time. He looked through Jojo’s purse and the scene before us and said, “I bet that dog got those crackers out of her purse and then dragged them over to the recliner where she had her little snack.” I called Jojo reluctantly and explained the situation to which she had a good laugh. She said, “Yea, Abby is probably mad that we’ve been gone too long.” It turns out that that was, in fact, what had happened. There was no boogerman that needed a snack that night. Only a sassy little poodle who thought, “My momma and daddy have been gone too long so, I will eat her leftover crackers in her purse while I drag everything else out. And I’ll set up the whole situation so that Dana will think that she is about to get murdered.”
I tell you this comical story to let you know that it’s ok to laugh at yourself. Life happens sometimes in the most comical of ways. Abby is doing fine and is still demanding multiple treats each time I go to check on her. And that little spicy old lady continues to bless my life each and every time our eyes meet.
“If you can laugh at yourself, you are going to be fine. If you allow others to laugh with you, you will be great.”
“It’s all fun and games until someone takes a dart to the eye.”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. As spring begins to make its mark, I start looking forward to having the cubs come spend some time with me during their spring break. The cold nights are beginning to fade. The hummingbirds start scouting for feeders. And many people take this time to rekindle their relationships with the flowers and gardening.
For many of us winter time leaves us with the attitude of blahhhhhh. It certainly does for me. I enjoy leaving my door open and circulating the fresh cool air. Tink and Coco enjoy both the air and watching the bugs and birds of the season. And the boys enjoy going outside down to the creek and playing with water guns. But what never seems to have a particular season are nerf gun wars. And they show no mercy for their friends and family.
Copeland has a place in my little habitat where he takes his mattress and drags it to the top of wooden shelving about 8 feet off the ground and covered by a curtain where he can enjoy some quiet time away from me and big brother, Marshall. This area has become affectionately known as the “Eagle’s Nest.” He normally has a nerf gun close at hand along with his tablet. Marshall usually has his gaming headphones or talking to online friends. And I’m diamond painting or planning things to do while keeping my ears and eyes open taking it all in.
Everything seems to be going good until Copeland fires a random shot at me from behind the curtain nailing me directly in the eyebrow with a nerf gun bullet. I let out a loud, “Ow!” He laughs hysterically which seems to trigger Marshall’s curiosity. Now they both need and want to be a part of the action. I love my boys dearly. However, at this point, they care nothing about their mom or other bystanders’ need for safety. Those foamed bullets with plastic tips began flying from the barrels of various guns striking me in every area of my body. Nerf Gun War: Game On!
They have gathered every bit of the ammo with the exception of maybe five bullets that are given to me. I have absolutely no protective cover. And they have an entire curtain. And I have been forced to try and pick up the landed bullets while still being shot with perfect aim. They can’t seem to aim clothes perfectly in the clothes basket. Nor can they aim their trash into a garbage can. However, they seem to aim perfectly with nerf guns that can have military snipers shaking in their boots.y
I began to tell myself, “Their childish giggling will make it all worth it.” Soon, though, my entire body is covered in red dots complimentary of hundreds landing shots on my now painful body. I search frantically for cover. Sometimes it’s a roll of toilet paper, towel, blanket or a garbage can. Anything that I can successfully reach, in the moment, becomes a form of cover. And then…I ran out of ammo. I think to myself, “Why didn’t we use protection?!”
I call, “Time Out! I’m out of ammo!” They say, “Ok! Cease fire! Momma needs to get bullets!” I gingerly drop my cover and observe my wounds not knowing if I’m really alive. My eyebrows are now swollen. And the only feeling that I can identify is OUCH! I begin to hear whispers and giggles among the offenders. I look up and Pow! I take another one directly to the middle of my forehead. They break out into total sugar drunken laughter while saying, “We love you, momma!” And I reply, “Stop lying! No you don’t! You just shot me in my nipple!” This makes the entire situation that much funnier to them. I say in my loudest and desperate voice, “I wish you would just eat a large clown turd!” And they continue to laugh hysterically.
As I frantically gather bullets near me and fling them in their general direction, they land a barrage of bullets again, completely crushing my self-confidence in my ability to win as if that was even a remote possibility. I hurriedly run into the middle of the floor gathering more bullets and I take one directly in the butt crack. “Ow!” I painfully scream.
I take my gathered stash that fills the clip that I now have secured in my half working gun. I see my moment while they are making battle plans to get in a cheap shot like the many that my body now shows its evidence. I fire away only for my bullet to land about five feet from my position. They don’t even seem to notice. I fired several more times with the same ferocity. I still don’t even get close to landing a shot. I shout loudly, “This piece of crap gun with no boom!” And my youngest son Copeland laughs harder. I take my remaining bullets and realize my now harsh reality. I have to throw my bullets. They have sabotaged my ability to win this war.
The mayhem eventually dies down. Copeland and whoever else attempting to kill me climbs down out of the “Eagle’s nest” to come look at my battle wounds. They are still laughing and I have a bruised fingernail, swollen elbows, a pulled hamstring, inflamed eyelashes, diminished hearing in my right ear, a runny nose brought on by a direct shot, a burning belly button, red dots up and down my shins, an itchy armpit and farts that sound like a suffering animal needing euthanasia. These wounds I did not have prior to Camp Frat Pad WWIII.
These moments while painful I wouldn’t trade for one minute. I am able to relive my childhood vicariously through my children with some Advil and an ice pack. And for them, it’s just another fun time with momma where we are making memories while they enjoy being kids. To them, it’s not about whether or not I’m gay or straight. Or how much money I have or don’t have. I’m just momma. And I can do nothing but smile. Later, I would cuddle with my “non-expanding recreational foam experts.”
“All is fair in love and Nerf war.”
-Unknown
***Don’t forget to watch the video! Copeland chose the song for this blog.***
This Puzzled Life 