Dear World, Please Don’t Give Up on Us: A Love Letter From a Blue Dot in the Red Sea

“Hope isn’t blind. It’s stubborn. It keeps standing up even when the world keeps trying to knock it sideways.” 

-A Blue Dot American Who Refuses to Sit Down

 Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Tell the ancestors to clock in for overtime. Lord help us, y’all. The United States is going through it. And by “it,” I mean the kind of national meltdown that makes you look around and say, “Surely this is a deleted scene from a dystopian comedy that never made it to Netflix because the plot was too unrealistic.” Yet here we are. Living it. Breathing it. And trying not to scream into a pothole on I‑59.

To the rest of the world:

Please don’t give up on us. I promise you the majority of Americans are not standing behind the chaos, cruelty, or conspiracy‑soaked nonsense that has taken over our headlines. Most of us are exhausted, horrified, and Googling “how to apply for dual citizenship at 2 a.m.while clutching a heating pad and a prayer. We see the instability. We see the authoritarian vibes. We see the white‑nationalist cosplay that keeps popping up like mold in a damp apartment. And we’re fighting it loudly, creatively, and with the kind of determination only a country built on protest can muster.

Yes, we know our leadership looks like a fever dream. Some people in power are making decisions that feel like they were written by a committee of raccoons who found a bottle of expired cough syrup. And our country is being run by a pube signature. Some are facing public scrutiny over their past associations. They include the widely reported connections between political figures and Jeffrey Epstein’s social circle. And the public has every right to demand transparency, accountability, and the full truth. People across the political spectrum have been calling for the release of all relevant documents. Because sunlight is still the best disinfectant. Meanwhile, the rest of us are over here like, “Hey world, please don’t judge us by the loudest people in the room. We’re trying to get the remote back from the uncle who keeps changing the channel to chaos.”

To our allies abroad:

We still see you as family. We still believe in cooperation, democracy, and global peace. We still want to stand shoulder‑to‑shoulder with you. And not stomp around the world stage like a toddler who missed naptime. Please keep talking to your governments about ways to support democracy here. Not because we’re helpless. But because democracy is a team sport. And right now, our team captain keeps wandering off the field.

About the weaponized religion situation. Listen. I grew up in the Deep South. I know about Jesus. I know his work. I know his vibe. And I can tell you with full confidence that Jesus would be flipping tables so fast in Mississippi right now that he’d qualify for CrossFit. The loudest “Christian” voices down here aren’t preaching love, compassion, or justice. They’re preaching fear, control, and purity culture. Which is ironic considering how many of their own scandals keep popping up like whack‑a‑moles at the county fair.

Not all Christians are like this. Some are kind, loving, justice‑oriented people who actually read the parts of the Bible about caring for the oppressed. But in Mississippi I can count those folks on one hand and still have fingers left to hold my sweet tea.

And for the record. I embrace all religions. All ethnicities. All genders. All sexual orientations. All cultures. Except the ones built on cruelty, control, or harming children. If you come to this country with love in your heart and respect for human dignity, you’re welcome at my table. I’ll even make you cornbread.

If you are brown, seeking asylum, fleeing violence, or simply trying to give your babies a better life. You are welcome in the America I believe in. The real America. The one with a heartbeat. The one that remembers its own immigrant roots even when our politicians pretend they sprouted straight out of the soil like turnips.

The America I love has always been a patchwork quilt of cultures, languages, and stories. And it has been stitched together by people who crossed oceans, deserts, and borders because hope was louder than fear. That America still exists. It’s bruised, tired, and currently being held hostage by people who think compassion is a weakness. But it’s still here. And it’s not going anywhere.

We just have to clean our governing house first. And Lord when I say “clean,” I don’t mean a light dusting. I mean roll up your sleeves. Put on the yellow gloves. And open every window because something in here died in 1987. And nobody ever dealt with it. The corruption runs deep. Deep like “you’re gonna need a shovel, a headlamp, and maybe a priest” deep. We’re not afraid of hard work. We built this country on hard work. We can rebuild it the same way.

And let me say this plainly. Donald Trump does not speak for us. Not for the majority. Not for the heart of this country. Not for the people who still believe in democracy, dignity, and basic human decency. Millions of Americans across races, religions, genders, and backgrounds are fighting every single day to protect what’s left of our democratic institutions. They’re marching, voting, organizing, educating, and refusing to be bullied into silence. We’re not giving up. We’re not backing down. We’re not letting authoritarianism take root in the soil our ancestors bled to cultivate.

The heart of the United States will return. I believe that with everything in me. Not because things look good. Because they don’t. Not because the path is easy. Because it isn’t. But because the soul of this country has always been bigger than the people trying to tear it apart. We’ve survived wars, depressions, pandemics, corruption, and more than one leader who thought the Constitution was optional reading. We’ll survive this too. The real America is the one built on courage, diversity, and stubborn hope. And it is still here. Still fighting. Still glowing like a blue dot in a sea of red hats. Thanks for reading! And Fuck Donald Trump, ICE, and MAGA.

Affirmation: I glow in the dark. I stand in the storm. And I refuse to let chaos speak louder than my courage. My voice, my vote, and my hope are stronger than any tyrant’s tantrum.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

Piper’s First Holiday Season

“What greater gift than the love of a cat?”

-Unknown

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.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

Happy Birthday, Marshall!

“Sons are the anchors of a mother’s life.”

-Sophocles

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!

 Affirmation: My voice matters.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife