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darnold1975

Piper’s Spay Day

“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

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

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

darnold1975

Piper Attempts Playing Hide-And-Seek

“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!

Affirmation: I am the queen of the snack jar.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

A Moment With Piper

“In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.”

-Terry Pratchett

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about what it’s like living with Piper. She is finally coming into her own and getting bigger every day. Check this out!

Piper: “Momma help me!”

Me: “What is the problem, Piper?”

Piper: “Tink bit my butt for no reason!”

Me: “Did you do anything to her?”

Piper: “No! She just bit me for no reason!”

Tink: “Piper you cowabungaed my head!”

Piper: “No I didn’t! Fluff off!” 

Tink: “What did you say? You little feline fluff ball?”

Piper: “I promise! I did nothing wrong!”

Me: “Piper, the collected evidence shows that you, in fact, jumped on Tink’s head without provocation.”

Piper: “Momma, I’m just a little kitty!”

Me: “And you are responsible for your own kitty actions.”

Tink: “Ha! Ha! I told you, you little snack stealer!”

Piper: “Momma said that I was growing and needed more than anyone else.”

Me: “Piper, I did not! Coco, do you care to chime in?”

Coco: “Hear no evil. See no evil. Speak no evil.”

Piper: “Well, that’s what I heard you say.”

Me: “When, ma’am?”

Piper: “The other night when I was asleep.”

Me: “Piper, that must’ve been while you were dreaming.”

Piper: “Well, you still said it no matter if I was awake or asleep.”

Me: “Piper, you must share your snacks just like you want me to share everything that I eat.”

Piper: “Well, I’m just curious and want to know what you’re eating?”

Me: “By jumping on me and into my plate?”

Piper: “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

Thanks for reading! Life with my girls is full of laughs and love. They are my family. Keep moving forward and always spay and neuter you pets.

Affirmation: I deserve every snack and piece of food that I find.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

Featured darnold1975

The Girls And The Lizard

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.

#Thispuzzledlife

Featured darnold1975

Tink’s Dream Of Becoming A Big Cat

“Time spent with cats is never wasted.”

-Sigmund Freud

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.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

Featured darnold1975

Hide-And-Seek Troubles Again!

“Cats have nine lives-three for playing, three for straying, and three for staying.”

-English Proverb

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about the continued struggles with my cats and playing “hide-and-seek” troubles.

I had hope when Piper joined our family that the remedial work would be successful. However, my girls will probably always be deficient in this area of their lives. I will now show you some of their efforts trying to change their ways. Sadly, they are still coming up short.

Thanks for reading. And keep me and the girls in your thoughts and prayers as we are always looking for solutions to this cat-tastrophy.

Affirmation: You are beautiful. It’s a good day to be a cat.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Tink’s Love Language

“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.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Coco and Scrapbooking/Bob The Sled

Me: “Coco?”

Coco: “What?!”

Me: “Why are you ignoring me?”

Coco: “Because you tell us if we can’t say anything nice. Don’t say anything at all.  So, I’m not saying anything.”

Me: “Coco what are you doing?”

Coco: “Scrapbooking.”

Me: “No you’re not.”

Coco: “Yes I am.”

Me: “Coco, you are laying in a box taking a nap. On top of the scrapbook cart. And you are talking to me.”

Coco: “Ok well the box is what I call scrapbooking. And…..”

Me: “And what?”

Coco: “And sometimes I talk in my sleep.”

Bob The Sled

Coco: “Bob, fire this fiesty little bobsled up and let’s take her for a spin.”

Bob: “First of all my name isn’t Bob. Secondly, this is a scrapbook supplies cart. And thirdly, if you jump on me again I’m going to collapse.”

Coco: “Ummm… Bob-the-scrapbook cart-sled-And the home of the brave. Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!! ”

Me:  “My cats are cray, cray. And now my scrapbook cart is talking to me.”

Thank you for reading. Subscribe to this blog and never miss a post.

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Coco And Ms Beans

This is a story I wrote about Coco and her mean school teacher, Ms. Beans.

Ewww that mean old teacher named Ms Beans. That wasn’t her real name. That was just a nickname we called her because she would “crop dust” the whole class. We all started gagging the longer it was alive. Why?! Because she would close the door taking away what little ventilation we were getting.  But I would always tell her that I had a hairball condition when she would ask me why I was gagging. We couldn’t exactly raise our paws and say, ”Ms Fart I’ve got a question.” So me and my classmates just called her ms beans.

Actual name is Truffles the Cat

You know I heard that they found her dead in her litter box due to an explosion. May her mean ass be comforted and corrected by tha Jesus.  If not, may tha Jesus kick her out of heaven and send with her a bottle of water and suntan lotion to the red light in the ground.

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Our Pets And Halloween Costumes

“Pawsitively bewitched by my furry friend’s cuteness.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about not forgetting our pets on Halloween. They secretly despise you for the costumes that you pick out. All they wanted was to be a part of the family. And they had no idea that they would be subject to such cruelty. Poor them. I don’t find any of that cruelty. I love seeing our pets dressed up as almost anything. Here are a few of these pets and their personal opinions concerning Halloween costumes. See if you agree. In

 Snoop Dogg

“Fo shizzle my nizzle.”

Colin Oscopy

“Dr Patio Furniture ER Stat!”

Charlie

“A cow?! With utters?! I’m eating the couch pillows when we get home.”

Pudding

“Seriously? I have my head in a hamburger right now?!”

Sister Mary Clarence

“May God forgive you for your sin of dressing me up as a nun.”

Wendy

“How do you live with yourself?”

Jess Kidding

“Let me tell you all the reasons why I hate you.”

Nico Time

“What in the absolute Hell have you done?!”

Cheetolini

“You should go to prison!”

“The Angry Yam”

“You should go to prison twice!”

Power Serge

“A Beanie Baby?! Please tell me it isn’t so.”

Capital Splatter

“I AM CHUCKY!”

Perv Griffins

“This is your fetish! Not mine!”

Rocky and Apollo

“We are calling the ASPCA!”

Thanks for reading! Happy Halloween to you and your pets. Happy Haunting!

Affirmation: I am worthy despite my owner/owners ideas about costumes.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Happy Halloween From The 1980’s

“When I look back at the 1980s I pinch myself. Did I really do all that?”

-Cynthia Payne

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about Halloween in the 1980’s. I have always said that the 1980s was the best decade ever. And I still stand by that statement. To get a good laugh about that decade just ask me about Halloween.

First let’s look at the costumes. The popular choices of the plastic costumes were He-Man, She-Ra, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Ghostbusters. For girls, it was Madonna inspired looks with lace gloves and teased hair. And boys were any type of monster costumes. Ben Cooper, Inc. became synonymous with Halloween for generations. The costumes were a plastic masked paired with a vinyl smock. Let’s not forget that the only thing that held the mask on our faces, and what we rested our faith in pending a disaster, consisted of two staples and a rubber band. We, also, always had that asshole friend or sibling who would walk up from behind you and pull that rubber band back and let go with it feeling like you had just been beheaded. Not to mention the tiny hold at the mouth that allowed for only a small amount of air and space to stick the tip of your tongue through that would lead to a sore or a cut by the end of the night. Yes, I wore these as well. Or for some of us costumes consisted of wearing your dad’s oversized clothes representing a hobo. And no costume was complete without using a pillowcase to hold all of our candy. Or the plastic Halloween buckets from McDonald’s in three different options such as “McBoo,” “McPunk’n,” and “McGoblin.”

Halloween decorations at home were not as intricate as they are today. Most homes consisted of carved pumpkins on the porch. And they were accompanied by  grinning skeletons or stuffed scarecrows. Inside our homes paper skeletons or stings of pumpkin lights. And the beloved bowls of candy corn on coffee tables.

The Halloween craze each year began at school with black and orange streamers, paper jack-o-lanterns, and spooky window clings. And then, there were the class parties where we would all parade around school in our costumes and eat cupcakes decorated with plastic spider rings and candy corn. There were even games that still existed like bobbing for apples and pin the nose on the pumpkin. And after all the sugar, the teachers still wanted us all to sit in our desks and be quiet. If you were lucky your school would put on a Halloween event where there was always some type of haunted house in the gym. Communities would also have fall festivals with arts and crafts, games and one thing I always remember was the local Kiwanis Club’s pancake breakfast that is no longer in existence.

Let us also not forget the “Great Candy Scare.” The 80s and 90s peaked with parental concerns about razor blades in apples and poisoned treats. And, yes, our parents checked our treats for such things. The fear led to the rise of “trunk-or-treat” events and parties at community centers offering a perceived “safer” way of celebrating. But the thrill of door-to-door candy collection could never be replaced. At the end of the night, it was customary to dump all your gathered candy into the middle of the floor and begin separating it into piles in order to inventory our candy loot.

Another thing that helped to accentuate the entire Halloween experience were the songs and movies of the time. Michael Jackson’s “Triller” was at every dance. And “The Monster Mash” was the top favorite. Movies such as “Hocus Pocus, “ “The Addams Family,” and “Beetlejuice” were always in rotation. And then for the brave were the low budget movies such as “Halloween” and “A Nightmare on Elm Street” “Friday the 13th” The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” (https://www.that80sdude.com/p/trick-or-treat-a-nostalgic-journey-into-80s-and-90s-halloween, 2024).

I was never allowed to watch those movies. Half of the fun was being able to scream at the television for the intended naked, female actor to RUN! While also screaming, “Don’t go check out the unknown sound, you idiot!”

The major change in this holiday began with the “Satanic Panic” and all out “War on Halloween” which began with conservative Christian groups viewing Halloween as a celebration of the occult and evil. This is when they began the change with alternatives like “Fall Festivals” to discourage participation in the holiday’s perceived demonic themes (https://christopheroxley.substack.com,2024). The panic was about alleged satanic crimes, not the commercialized secular celebration of trick-or-treating and costumes (https://www.cnn.com, 2019). These accusations were largely unfounded, leading to trials, imprisonment, and the destruction of lives with no basis in reality. Christian extremists continue warning people about Halloween being “Satan’s Birthday” which continue to denounce costumes and candy as the gateway to the devil. And they continue to try and convince us to celebrate “Jesus-ween” (https://www.satanictemplewashington.com, 2025).

I, personally, have never sacrificed a goat or a child in a satanic ritual from celebrating Halloween. And starting October 1st every year, I watch horror movies for the entire month. Maybe it’s like the ability to be defiant against restrictions as a minor who grew up in a conservative Christian household. Whatever the reasons, I’ve loved Halloween for the majority of my life. And for many years prior to the development of PTSD from my own trauma, I was a haunted house junkie who went to every “booger house,” haunted maze, and  haunted hayride that I could find.

I don’t believe that celebrating this holiday as something that will keep you from entering the kingdom of heaven. I believe that it’s another holiday to make memories as a child or now with my own children. I think that it’s just a holiday of having fun accompanied by fear of the unknown. And for these reasons Halloween will always be something that I celebrate. Thanks for reading. And to you I say, “Happy Halloween!”

Affirmation: I embrace the magic of this season with an open heart.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

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The Girls And Self-Care

“When I feel bad, I just look at my cats and my courage returns.“

-Charles Bukowski

 Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negativity energy, go away. Today, I want to discuss and let you see how the girls’ practice self-care. It’s such an integral part of staying both mentally and physiclally healthy. And I have tried to impress upon the them the importance of this concept. I will take you cat by cat to prove that they have grasped the idea of the importance of self-care.

COCO

Spread out and give yourself room
Get plenty of rest.
Feel your feelings and stay safe.
Find a safe place

Tinkerbell

Make new friends
Do yoga.
Eat a good old fashioned snow cone.
Exercise

Make sure you get plenty to eat.

Piper

Find healthy outlet for your anger.
Stay nice and warm.
Stay hydrated even if it’s your momma’s drink.
Ask for what you need.

AND ABOVE ALL….PRAY!

I hope that you’ve enjoyed this blog. Always remember that self-care isn’t a chore. It’s a necessity. Keep smiling!. And keep reading!

Affirmation: I choose to relax and enjoy the moment.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

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Tink and Coco’s Hide-And-Seek Troubles

“Cats choose us; we don’t own them.”

-PC Cast and Kristin Cast

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. I know lately I’ve been storming the door with some hot topics. So, I thought that I would take time out to talk to you about some of my cat parenting woes. Tink and Coco are my girls, and I love them dearly. But one thing I have come to notice is how they suck at playing the game “Hide-and-Seek.”  I had finally reached the end of my rope while suffering in silence over this. And I had to just breakdown and get a “Hide-and-Seek” tutor. Do you know how difficult they are to find?! 

When I’m finally brave enough to ask a tween to help explain the concept to my children in a way that they can understand, I have to face my fears and tell them that my children that have the issues are not “technically” human children. They are my cats. They begin laughing hysterically. Not the cats. Coco and Tink are horribly embarrassed and are not grateful for my efforts. The child that has empathy for our situation prefers to remain anonymous.

Ok, I’m going out on a limb, while swallowing my pride, to show you the reasons why I had to get a tutor for my cats. Below are a few examples.

Tink: Psst! guess who?

Coco: Tink you have to put your ears down dummy.

Tink: you big idiot! You just gave away my hiding place!!!! Ugh!!! She wouldn’t have noticed!! I hope you get a dingleberry the size of a tennis ball!!!!

I understand that their recovery is “a marathon, not a sprint.” And I ask for your prayers for the three of us as we continue to work as a family, to continually face our fears to help Tink and Coco with their deficits in playing a simple game that is shared and played throughout all cultures and regions of the world. And how one day we can bring awareness to other cat families about how we can learn to live unaggressive and how to enjoy “family time” comfortably again in the near future. Thanks for your support as we struggle!

Affirmation: I am perfect enough.

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

#Thispuzzledlife 

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From The Mouth Of Piper

“I had been told that the training procedure with cats was difficult. It’s not. Mine had me trained in two days.”

-Bill Dana

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away. Today, I want to update you on the speaking of Piper. She might be little. But she is mighty. The following is a conversation that we had recently.

Piper: “Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow.”

Me: “Piper, what are you saying?”

Piper: “Mooooooomma?”

Me: “There you go. I knew you could do it.”

Piper: “Wait! What am I doing?”

Me: “You’re speaking English. What were you doing just now?”

Piper: “Oh, I was talking to tha Jesus.”

Me: “Really? About what?”

Piper: “Well, I was saying a prayer while speaking “Cat.” Do you think he understood me?”

Me: “Well, I would guess so since he created you.”

Piper: “He created me?”

Me: “Why yes. Jesus is behind all things good.”

Piper: “But momma those other people unalived my littermates.”

Me: “Ah yes. Baby, he’ll take care of those people. One day I’ll tell you about the red light in the ground. But he made sure you and your brother made it.

Piper: “Why? The red light in the ground? What is that?””

Me: “Well, I don’t know. Maybe it was because he knew that me and your sisters needed you in our family. And the red light in the ground is where bad people go. They always need water. It’s hot. And they will be sad forever.”

Piper: “Whoa. Do you mean Jesus can do that? Well, I don’t want them to die. I just want them to be covered in fleas without flea medicine.”

Me: “Oh yes. Jesus can do anything.”

Piper: “So, how do I thank the Jesus for doing that?”

Me: ”Well, you just pray and tell Jesus.”

Piper: “Do you mean like I was doing?”

Me: “Of course. Go ahead and speak English. He’ll understand.”

Piper: “So, does Jesus have Google translate or Rosetta Stone?”

Me: “Well, Jesus doesn’t need that. But if he did, he would use it. Go ahead and talk to him.”

Piper: “Dear Jesus, thank you for my momma that took us out of that hot sun and to the vet. Thank you for letting them help me. However, I didn’t like the thermometer. I could really do without that. And thank you for my new mommy. She does say words I don’t understand. But I think it’s because of my needles attached to my baby paws. So, please don’t be mad at her. She loves me so much! And dear Jesus, as your humble servant, I ask that you please take that evil hiss out of my sisters’ throats. Amen.”

Me: “Incredibly good, Piper. 

Piper: “How do I know if he heard me?

Me: “When you said, “amen” it was like you put a stamp on the letter. It was delivered straight to heaven. Just give your sisters time. Jesus will work on them.”

Piper: “Thank you, momma. Can I have another cookie?”

Me: “You’re welcome, baby. Ummmm. You’ve already had sixty-two treats.”

Piper: “Then can I have 63?”

Me: “Fine. But only one more.”

Thanks for reading. Make sure and subscribe to this blog. So, that you never miss another post and updates on the lives of me and Coco, Tinkerbell, and Piper. Keep reading. And keep smiling.

Affirmation: The world can be cruel. So, I won’t be.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

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And Then There Was Piper

“Kittens are angels with whiskers.”

-Alexis Flora Hope

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!

Affirmation: I am getting to know my new family.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

What Does That Say?

“If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special.”

-Jim Valvano

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to provide a little bit of laughter. I have always enjoyed laughing even in the worst of times. And honestly, most people never have a clue what I face every day.

I first saw this type of humor several years ago on the Ellen Degeneres Show. And I absolutely loved it! So, I set out looking on the internet for some of the funniest signs that people post. Enjoy these!

“No worries. I will have mine tucked and secured.”

“Apparently, I was unaware of this trend.”

“At least Sherrill warns you. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Truly, I have never seen a free roaming tree.”

“Why wasn’t I aware that chickens had become so angry?”

“Ummm..I think they misspelled things you grow in a garden.”

“Where was Fox News when the world was told that elephants are now driving?!”

“Ok. Why do we need this sign? Really?! Who’s going around molesting alligators? Next on Dateline’s To Catch A Predator, we will talk to Roger who spends his days and night grooming alligators for lustful purposes.”

“Kevin you told me you didn’t have warrants!”

“Hmmmmm.”

“Thanks but I’ve never had that compulsion.”

“Nope. Not in my pooper.”

“That Must be how Willie Nelson made it to 90.”

“No comment.”

“I can’t either.”

I hope you’ve enjoyed some laughs as I have. If you are capable of being a literal thinker, life becomes so much fun. Stay safe!

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Laughing Rainbows

“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

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Budtender Moment: Blues Brothers Motorbreath

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, but two joints made my night.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today, I’m going to review strains that go along with Pride. Since I’m a lesbian, it wouldn’t be nice of me not to mention the part of the parade that I enjoy watching. It’s the “Dykes On Bikes” portion of the parade where some of the most masculine lesbians ride through on their motorcycles. And I assure you that your fragile masculinity could be smashed by some of these ladies. “Lady Lesbians Of The Bikes” I honor you with the cannabis strain with the Blues Brothers’s Label: Motorbreath.

This greasy, yet sexy, hybrid strain was actually named from a song called Motorbreath on Metallica’s 1983 album Kill’Em All. The diesel taste feels like it would be better suited on their Garage Days album. Anyway, what a pleasant surprise to find out those origins that lead back to my favorite heavy metal band of all time, Metallica. The nostalgia of this entire product just floods me with so many good memories. Because the taste will take you back, while the effects wrap you up.

Jim Belushi and Dan Aykroyd actually own Blues Brothers brand. John Belushi was a comedian and actor who traveled with Dan Aykroyd and performed as Jake and Elwood Blues. John Belush eventually died of a drug overdose. And his brother has been building a cannabis business in his honor. Jim Belushi stated in his reality program Belushi Farms, “Had my brother had access to medical cannabis, he would still be alive.”

This strain while definitely “stinky,” with some diesel fumes isn’t as heavy as the GMO strain. And it is ever since of the word “hybrid.” It feels like a sativa until the gassy, indica back end catches you. The strain has a lineage of Chemdog and SFV OG KUSH (San Fernando Valley). This would be a good strain for a lunch break if you can tolerate the indica effects. It’s used for chronic pain and stress. I think that it’s a strain for beginner or moderate users. And more of a “chill” strain for us experienced users. However, at 28.4% THC it won’t take long before it disables you for your entire lunch break. An Absolutely great hybrid in my book. The terpene profile is Caryophyllene, Myrcene and Limonene. This indica-dominant hybrid is definitely 4.25 out of 5 on the rating scale. A uniquely beautiful strain that will help many people no matter where on the continuum you reside. Way to go Blues Brothers!

“Dykes On Bikes” comeback you forgot your diesel! Happy Pride, everyone!

Affirmation: I attract the best weed.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Come Out, Come Out!

“Closets are vertical coffins.”

-Robin Tyler

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.”

-Tan France

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Hurricane Season Is Underway

“A hurricane is an ocean come walking.”

-Max Gladstone, Crispin’s Model

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! As today begins the month of Gay Pride, it would almost be considered disrespectful if I didn’t mention that it’s also the first day of Hurricane Season. Having been through one of the most destructive hurricanes to hit the United States, Hurricane Katrina is one that I could talk about through the end of the season and beyond.

While those beautiful colored flags are the most gorgeous rainbows, hurricane season is something that can take my natural giddy self and change it instantly to serious. If you have lived through violent thunderstorms and tornadoes of the spring, then you know just what I’m talking about. And this year has led me to question whether “tornado alley” borders are being redefined. So far this year mother nature has already begun to stretch her meteorological legs and doing the jet stream dance.

Tornadoes, in an of themselves, are extremely scary no matter what part of the country nor how large the debris field. They show up sometimes with little warning to quickly demolish anything in its path. And there have been many times within the last few years where I decided to stay in my little habitat for the sake of my cats Tink and Coco. And when they decide to take cover because they hear rain drop, I’m usually left to fend for myself.

Hurricanes are quite literally “The Wrath of God.” Well, at least it was during Hurricane Katrina. Things you learn to do when these types of weather patterns that we see in the deep south, is to always be prepared. That means batteries, bottled water, canned goods, propane, charcoal, candles, and hopefully working chargers. Our local news station never forgets to tell us about the importance of helmets and coloring books for the kids. And before you ask, yes, I do have fun in the live chat while watching the coverage.

The Weather Channel seems to be a staple for living in the southern United States. I know one thing without a doubt, if Jim Cantore shows up in your area, RUN!

Five months out of the year are dedicated to constantly checking hurricanes and projected paths. The memories of the chaos of Hurricane Katrina made me experience a fear that can’t be explained in words and sentences. It’s a fear that you come to understand when you experience it. As the stories told by my grandmother and parents about Hurricane Camille, I was very intrigued. And there was the time when I said, “I want to be able to experience a major hurricane.” I’ve always been interested in the science of weather. But the adage, “Careful what you wish for” couldn’t have made anymore sense once it was all said and done.

The weather is just the beginning. What those on the outside need to understand is that it’s after the storm that is so traumatic. I know that New Orleans got the major news coverage during the hurricane. However, here in Mississippi was horrible in different ways. If you’ve never been unable to meet basic needs for living, without power, without air conditioning, gas pipes busted, sewage manholes overflowing, no running toilets, no cell phones, no access to ice, no access to money, food starts rotting, the massive mosquitoes, and above all, the heat. And we live 60 miles north of the coastline. Casino barges, pieces of interstates, highways, entire streets, mausoleum opened bodies and caskets strewn, slabs where houses once stood and the majority of the landscape resembling something created by “Little Boy” and “Fat Man.” You cannot begin to realize how deadly mother nature can be.

As we face another year of these types of storms, start preparing now. Because when you wait until it’s more convenient, retailers will be sold out. And though it’s been 20 years since Katrina, when I woke up this morning a cold chill went straight down my spine as I remember how very scary and destructive she was. Let us all never forget how dangerous weather can be. And let us never forget the names that have been retired because of the deadly, long lasting physical, structural and psychological effects that they have left on this nation. I remember them by name Katrina, Andrew, Sandy, Rita, Harvey, Irma, Maria, Michael, Ivan, Beryl, Helene, Milton, Betsy, Camille, Frederick, Galveston Hurricane 1900, The Atlantic-Gulf Hurricane 1919, Great Miami Hurricane 1926, San Felipe-Okeechobee Hurricane 1928, Labor Day Hurricane 1935, New England Hurricane 1938, The Great Atlantic Hurricane 1944 and many others. Thanks for reading! Stay safe! Keep Smiling! And HAPPY PRIDE!

Affirmation: I have faced fiercer storms and survived them all.

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Tink And The Fart

“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.”

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

What Is My Purpose?

“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.”

-Rumi

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Did He Say Puberty?

“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.

“Raising teens is like nailing jello to a tree.”

-Unknown

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

The Burglar That Wasn’t

“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.”

-Martin Niemoller

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Bang! They Shot Me!

“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.***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

“My Sarah, My Friend”

“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,love leaves a memory no one can steal.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today marks the 10th anniversary since Sarah died. Recently, I have done some work in therapy about her loss.  What I’ve learned is how traumatic events never seem to lose their power. While it’s always been very upsetting to me to live without her. Re-experiencing those moments with the full force of emotions is decapitating my soul. And I truthfully, had no idea that I carried that much emotional exhaustion.  

I have been asked before “why do you refer to her as like a God?” To me Sarah wasn’t just a friend. She was so many things to me. But most of all she was my hero. I sought her guidance as a struggling alcoholic/drug addict. But years later and the respect for a seemingly genuine woman progressed to a relationship where I experienced unconditional love and acceptance for no other reason than because I existed. I just needed someone who cared on all levels. And it was her.

I hungered for the peace that she seemed to carry around in her soul. I watched her from all angles and she was the most authentic person I had ever seen. And I was very intrigued. She was the same no matter where she went. Our very close relationship was like a “maternal mentor.” I wanted to learn everything I possibly could about her “road to peace and serenity.” There was a mutual space that we held for each other with the utmost respect. She was my “safe person.” 

We spent many hours talking about life and the broken roads we had both taken. And I saw how she had risen. And how I was barely breathing. Over the years she became my “Mr. Miyagi” and my “Yoda.” Every Time I was around her I learned another lesson about life. And it was exactly what I needed. And I flourished. I had begun to rebuild my shattered self-confidence, self-worth, self image and the idea that I was entitled to love, happiness and belongingness just like everyone else. 

I continued to struggle with addiction for a while. And Oh the boundaries. Anyone that knew her also knew that she was a boundary setting “queen.” Boundaries were placed before me many, many times. That was just something else that she taught me. 

It wasn’t “rules” coming from an authority figure with her. It was simply teaching me about boundaries and standing up when they are tested. And she also taught me about our own boundaries and why we deserve for them to be respected. I realized that my way of thinking was courtesy of generational patterns of insanity. She praised individuality, autonomy and authenticity.

I began to notice that I was changing.  My thinking, heart, conscience, was all changing for the better.  I needed the stability of someone who was loving and consistent. And I’m sorry but there are just not that many people like that who possess both qualities. And I thanked God everyday for the blessings I received that allowed me to be open enough to experience “love” for the first time since stepping onto the gravel of my broken road.  

I had, once again,  found that passion for life and the ability to succeed which was lost for many years. I began excelling as a student. And I realized that I was not too dumb to learn. And about the symbolism of the Phoenix in Greek Mythology. The symbol of the camel in 12-step recovery. And about living life on life’s terms. And about her walk with Jesus. And how life is about acceptance even if it’s not the hand that you wanted dealt. The woman I speak of I would’ve laid down my life for. And I still will at the speaking of her name.  

And when she died, I’ve been unable to move past my grief.  Instead I burned every bridge that I could. And I found dreams and ambitions in the safe confine of isolation slowly withering away. I guess over the years I never saw having to live life without her or her guidance.  But here we are. And her absence is more than I can bear.

I exist but I no longer live. I keep chasing the monster that keeps chasing me. Again I am the shell of who I used to be. Shouldn’t her memory and advice propel me past that? Shouldn’t living a life that I know would please her give me the energy to help me carry on?  Maybe. But my heart feels none of that. I am paralyzed by fear, grief, loneliness, sadness and debilitating depression. But I do have my memories. I guess sometimes, though, the wounds are just too great. 

“The absence of your loved one will lead to a profound wound of their loss that will never completely mend. But they will forever reside in your heart and will remain partially broken.”

-Unknown

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

The Funny Reasons Kids Cry

“A 3 year-old is basically a walking, talking middle finger.”

-Amy Dillion

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. I needed to switch gears just a bit from the trauma work. So, what is something that’s lighthearted and comical about our lives? The answer…PARENTING. It doesn’t matter if you’re straight, gay, trans, purple, white, black or any other category. If you have children they will all do things like this as they grow.

It is the most complex job that I’ve ever had. There are as many frustrations as there are hysterical moments. We as parents love our children dearly. There are also those times especially toddler meltdowns that can have me in the room over in a corner  while in the fetal position and biting my arm.  A momma hamster would’ve eaten said screaming child.

Due to my trauma, I cannot tolerate the cries of babies and children. Asking them to stop is apparently the equivalent of asking them to stop breathing. Needless to say, I am so thankful that the boys are out of those stages. However, the uncharted waters of puberty are now upon me. They still aren’t always sure what bothers them but they just hiss at everything. And all I can say at this point is that “if God wants to get me back for the way I was as a teenager, it’s going to be a hell of a ride.” Here is a video of some of the funniest kids meltdowns.

Any parent from anywhere in a public setting understands the familiar cries. That  moment when you think to yourself, “Yep, it’s nap time for that kid.” When Marshall was little and Mel and I went to Walmart, we headed straight to the dog beds where we would get a comfy looking one and put it in the cart.  We would give Marshall his bottle and pray for a miracle. It might not have lasted forever but it was so nice.  And then inevitably a loud sound or the screeching of a kid’s tantrum would wake him up.  How many times did I want to go up to a parent and say, “I hope you can’t find your kids binkies  the next time they want one. And when you try to go to the store to get new ones they are all sold out.  And then it’s “No Binkie Night” at your house!” Check out some of these funny pictures of children losing their minds over the simplest things.

Marshall was very young and we were getting ready for church.  On the way to the car he spotted his little swimming pool and made a beeline to it.  I stopped him just shy of soaking his entire outfit and shoes.  You would’ve thought that I had just removed all the air from his life.  We had to go through the five stages of grief and loss. And the crocodile tears made me feel like a horrible parent because I just made the additional liquid in his eyes appear. We all made it through that moment and Marshall just turned 13. And now I’m beginning to see, at 49 years old, that my parents were not crazy when I was younger. I made them that way.

I hope that you could have a few laughs as I have. Enjoy the ride of parenting.  Our little guys are so worth it all. And so are all of you!

“The average toddler expends 6,500 calories per day. Consumes 1.5 bites of food per meal, and grows 3 pajama sizes per night.”

-Unknown

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

2024 Highlights From Camp Frat Pad

“Many years ago, I made a New Year’s resolution  to never make New Year’s resolutions. Hell, it’s been the only resolution I’ve ever kept.”

–D.S Mixell

As the world wraps up another year of living, I thought that I would try to recap some of our most memorable moments here at Camp Frat Pad. There has been much laughter, tears with our friends that double as family.  We have all grown individually and as a group in our relationships with each other. But it’s how we walk through our daily lives attempting to “live life on life’s terms” that continues to make Camp Frat Pad such a special place. Camp Frat Pad is not a place. It’s a total experience. You want unconditional love that you might be lacking elsewhere? We are all here to support you. Hate has no room here.  We are a small group of people where we practice inclusion, love and a place to call home when others can’t handle our differences. Camp Frat Pad is a place where both kids and adults are free to be whoever and whatever they want to be judgment free. No matter what color flag you wave or what limitations you may have, there is always a place for anyone who needs or wants acceptance, support and laughter that will propel you into the next 24 hours of life.  Enjoy some of our moments from 2024 as we send a lighthearted middle finger goodbye to whatever type of year that we’ve all had.

  • Marshall puked when we played the Jelly Belly Beanboozled game
  • Copeland decided to try and learn how to make primitive weapons so that he could be a survivalist. His survival pack consisted of a pack of crackers, a piece of gum and a juice box which he devoured 30 ft into the woods.
  • I slipped and fell in some mud down by the creek. All I could do was look at Shelby like, “Did that just really happen? And am I still alive?” Shelby was absolutely no help. She and the kids just laughed hysterically. Each time I tried  to stand up I fell back down again making the whole situation that much funnier. Definitely, one of the funniest moments of the year!
  • The boys accidentally on purpose got their shoes soaked when they needed to walk in the creek water.
  • Robyn tripped going upstairs AGAIN! Shocker!
  • Robyn and the family were gone on a cruise. I took care of her pet pigs “pork chop” and “bacon.” I am completely dumb when it comes to pig behavior. They let out a big snort and I screamed because I thought that they had just tried to kill me. I could’ve died and she laughed at the story.
  • Mikey set the woods on fire by trying to be proactive.
  • Out of the corner of my eye I saw a water hose under Robyn’s carport that I apparently thought was a cobra in the striking position. I could’ve died and she just laughed!
  • Mikey got a new keychain flashlight that helps determine meteorological outcomes.
  • Shelby was sick the entire year! Literally.
  • I was nearly killed in a barrage of nerf gun fire. Injuries included swollen eyebrows, a bruised nipple and multiple red dot tattoos.
  • Copeland’s frustration with his brother’s “mean puberty” behaviors are either violent or hysterical. 
  • Mason contracted “Movid.”
  • Copeland and Marshall farted so much that Tink and Coco started losing vision in their eyes.
  • Mason is the fart and burp monitor that demands an immediate “EXCUSE ME!”
  • Copeland decided that when he grows up that he wants to commit arson because he loves shooting fireworks. We had an immediate discussion about the difference between arson and a pyro. Basically, one is a felony.
  • Mikey can listen to a podcast, load the dishwasher and cook brownies best when it’s midnight and everyone else is trying to sleep.
  • We all concluded that the boys would starve if they ever wanted to be male strippers for a living.
  • I almost got rabies from Robyn’s dog Bella. I gave her the name “Devil Dog” which she wears with pride. Now, at the end of the year, she loves to get in my lap from time-to-time for cuddles. And so does the rest of the “canine assassin crew.”
  • Mason is very mean when he gets hungry. It goes way beyond hangry.
  • Coco and Tink are two of my best friends.
  • Cannabis is still the best medicine on the planet.
  • I am now free from psych meds. Thank you, cannabis!
  • Baby “Prince” is the most beautiful and high maintenance little schnauzer. He is the newest member of Camp Frat Pad.
  • Experiencing the kids’ puberty makes me want to go into the woods and let the animals eat me.
  • Mason has gone from a little kid to 7’2” in less than a year. He outgrows clothes every month.
  • I broke the wooden adirondack chair flamboyantly!
  • Ellie is now legal. Happy Birthday!
  • When the boys come to my house for a visit they have appetites like starving feral dogs. Even when they’ve just eaten.
  • The boys set off the smoke alarm with the fart blaster gun.
  • “Momma, do Tink and Coco have New Year’s “revolutions?” “Only around the food bowl and snack drawer, son.”

As we go into the new year, I wish everyone to be healthy and happy. Laugh as much as possible. It will get you through many difficult moments. Keep those you love close because life can change permanently in a moment. And tell them that you love them often. Allow your kids to enjoy their childhood without unrealistic constraints and expectations. Allow them to play and enjoy life before it gets difficult. It will disappear before you realize. Be the reason other people smile.  DO NOT allow other people’s opinions to determine your self-worth. Just because they don’t see it doesn’t mean that it’s not there. Boundaries foster growth. Stand in your truth even when it’s difficult or unpopular. Because one day you will look up and you will have that backbone that you’ve always needed. And finally, DO NOT remain silent just because it makes others uncomfortable. Embrace diversity!

Happy New Year From All Of Us At Camp Frat Pad!

#Thispuzzledlife

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darnold1975

The Teachings of a Pandemic

 

A person in public without a mask during a

 pandemic is a walking septic tank.”

 ― Abhijit Naskar.

***This is just a little nugget of gold during the pandemic that I never posted.***

Until very recently I’ve thought that my days of writing were days of long ago. I was writing one day and the next day I fell into a big dark hole of nothingness. My last blog entry on September 25, 2020, entitled Beyond the Mask is about how my life was beyond typical Halloween themes and rewritten into a language that I still wouldn’t understand. Today I sit, one year later, with the latest ideas and revelations about my ongoing therapy. And realizing how sometimes the simple reasons for a smile would once been seen as insignificant.

A pandemic has a way of wiping the smiles off the faces in society. And sometimes society tries to force the pandemic out only for the pandemic to re-emerge with the upper hand. I fell victim to Covid-19 twice with the most recent adventure only a couple of weeks ago. This time, however, I had to cuddle with a blood clot in one of my lungs. How I contracted Covid-19 was sort of perplexing since I hate being in public to a point of phobias at times. And the seclusion for safety by the virus had me fearing everything that much more. So, these days I’m having to force myself to go in public even if it’s just riding in my vehicle or walking down the street. 

What I have enjoyed are the relationships with my cat Coco, my new cat Tinkerbell and my children. Copeland and Marshall have a healthy fear of the virus with comical threats “that they might not breathe again if they take their masks off.”   The boys tell me things like, “Momma I love you so much that I’m going to fart on you next time I see you.”  What boy mom doesn’t melt when her babies say things like that? “And when I see Coco, I’m going to fart on her too!”  Yep, we keep it real like that. I will take that any day over losing one of my children to the virus.

Coco has gone from my sweet kitten to a very voluptuous and very entitled cat. Oh, how I love my Coco! Me and the boys have renamed her as “Coco Momma Lita.”  These days we just refer to her as “big and beautiful.”  Nothing could’ve prepared me for the next little beauty in our lives……Tinkerbell. Or “Tink” for short. Early on I thought the scene might play out like it did for Marley the little kitten that I will never forget. Again, I adopted her from a vet clinic and again this kitten was sick with a big, bad dose of intestinal worms.

Me and this little calico beauty were just meant to be together. I had never seen so much diarrhea in all my life. The stress was unimaginably high for us both. I was headed straight towards psychosis and all she knew was play, play, play and poop. I was lucky in that she was able to hold her own until the medicine began working. But this little girl was determined to make it, and I was determined to somehow make it through a bout of psychosis. All you must know is that it’s scary and you can’t hear what I hear. 

While I took a break from writing my therapy didn’t end. I’ve continued to meet with coach, and I’ve found a new love for scrapbooking. And my “head mates” like that activity too. So, during this pandemic I’ve still found a way to give “my guys” a voice even on telemedicine. So, what has this pandemic taught me? Persistence.

“With COVID-19, we’ve made it to the life raft. Dry land is far away.” 

Marc Lipsitch, epidemiologist

**Don’t forget to watch the video!**

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Splish! Splash! I Was Taking A Bath

“If you can’t laugh at yourself, life is going to seem a whole lot longer than you’d like.” 

~ Natalie Portman

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away! Instantly, I feel better. I need to make a confession. A few weeks ago, I had elbow surgery. No big deal. I’ve had many surgeries throughout my life. Most have been knee surgeries. This time, though, it was going to be “baptism by fire” on how to bathe with one arm. I do my best by keeping the cast dry. This should’ve not been an issue because I’ve done the same thing after knee surgeries. But this time, would prove itself different. 

I get my game plan to hold my arm up while attempting to sit down in my bath water. Uh oh! Ok this little snafu I had not factored into my plan. How would I get down in the water? Just in case I had misjudged my actions, I tried it again. Oh my gosh! My older body was letting me down. I begin thinking about the situation that I’m now faced deal with. I couldn’t call my close friends because if they saw me now, they would be in therapy the rest of their lives. Plus, one of them already has issues with gravity.  She would laugh hysterically while shouting, “KARMA!”  “I couldn’t call coach. Because who would? And I’m also one of those kids that always said, “I do it!”

I develop a new game plan while thinking, “If survivors from the Titanic disaster made it then a measly bathtub situation should be no problem, right?” I began squatting but still I could do nothing but hover over the water. Finally, I realize that the only solution is to just let go and fall in the water the rest of the way. I begin counting “One, two, three. Wait! Wait! Do I let go on three or two?” When you have parts, the agreeing on things internally is seldom accomplished. Some were already laughing. Mainly the teenagers. The kids were saying over and over, “One, two, three Go! One, two, three go!” Others say, “OMG this is going to be a disaster! Call coach! Yes, ask for what you need!” I shout, “Shut up! I’m to keep us alive!” To which the rebuttal comment is “Oh wow! That was not said in a loving kind of way.” My only other statement at this point was, “Well, I don’t feel “Loving” right now!”

Seeing no other way around this situation, I let go and fell back into the bathtub. I remember thinking, “Am I still alive? I accused the bathtub and karma for attempting to drown me.”  One little insider was screaming, “I’m drowning! I’m drowning!” I say, “No you’re not! You just have water in your eyes!” Neither me, the tub nor the bathroom would ever be the same. I felt like I had just done a cannon ball off the diving board. And what had come of it was a tidal wave of water in every inch of that room.

“If you allow others to laugh with you, you will be great.”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! I told you I could do it!” I said. So, I took my bath with one arm out with no further incident. I was just going to keep the situation secret and in my back pocket for some time later down the road. I start attempting to get out of the tub like I do with my knee. And I soon realized that I had not thought about how to get back out of the bathtub. So, now I’m trapped in a bathtub and have no idea how I’m going to get out.” Hellfire and damnation! What do I do now?” I shouted. A few minutes go by, and I eventually make it back onto my feet and out of the bathtub. Karma got me good!

~ Martin Niemoller

***Don’t forget to watch the video***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Kids Say The Darndest Things

“The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away! Whew! That’s my favorite part. I feel better now. I know that it’s been several days since I wrote my last blog. Sorry, but elbow surgery makes typing almost impossible. One of the coolest things about being around kids are the innocent and endless questions and rationale. Since finding out more information about my own childhood, my parents, friends and family have told me about various behaviors and questions that I said and done. Now that I have more children around me, I now understand just how it all looks and sounds. Check out these comedic statements.

Marshall (much younger): “Momma Mel, do you know what G-netic sand is?”

Momma Mel: “I think you mean K-Netic sand.”

Marshall: “No watch me. G-G-Genetic sand.”

Marshall (much younger}: “Momma Mel, have you ever been on Tweeter?”

Momma Mel: “Do you mean Twitter?”

Marshall: “No Tweeter!”

Me: “Wow son. We’ve had it wrong all this time.”

 

Me: “Son, I didn’t see it at Walmart.”

Copeland: “Well did you check the app?”

Me: “Did you realize that there was no Walmart when I was a kid?”

Copeland: “I know. That was back in the day.”

(I had no comeback)

 

Me: “Boys, we can’t go out for fast food tonight. It’s too expensive.”

Copeland: “Awe. Did you check the dollar menu?”

Me: “Did you check the pantry?”

 

Copeland: “Momma D, now that you are old can you tell me about your childhood?”

Me: “Dude let’s get one thing straight. I’m not old because I grew up in the 80s. And 80s kids don’t age.”

Copeland “No you’re old because you didn’t have YouTube and Dollar Tree.” (Silence)

 

Me “Boys I’m not going to raise y’all on McDonald’s.”

Copeland: “Well you can just raise us on Chick-Fil-A.”(Again silence)

 

Me: “Ok. I found the item you wanted.”

Male child: “Please order from our country!”

 A lot of my little visitors love to see me so that they can play with my cats Coco and Tinkerbell. Ava Grace, my niece, was overheard asking these questions.

Ava Grace: “Coco you want some cookies? What’s the passcode?

She also proceeded to tell me a little bit of unknown history about my parents black and white stray cat named Oreo

AG: “Oreo’s mother was killed in a car wreck. Did you know that?”

Me: “Like his “cat momma?”

AG: “Yea, it was very sad.”

Copeland and I love to shoot fireworks. Check out these below.

Copeland: “Momma, when I get older, I want to do arson.”

Me: “Wait what?!”

Copeland: “Yea, I love playing with fireworks.”

Me: “Son, that is a pyro! Arson is a felony.”

Copeland: “Just don’t call the cops.”

 

Copeland lit a firework that was a strobe light. 

Copeland: “Momma that light is giving me amnesia.”

Me: “What?! Son that light can cause seizures not amnesia.”

 

Copeland called me over to the fireworks that he shot. 

Copeland: “Hey, mom you know you don’t have to pick up the leftover paper.”

Me: “Yes we do, son.”

Copeland: “Well the paper will evaporate.”

Me: “Do you mean disintegrate?”

Copeland: “Yea, whatever.”

 

Copeland: “mom this bread stuff is so good. Maybe we should tell poppa thank you right now, so he’ll go get some more.” 

One day when the boys were staying with me, I told them in the evening that we all had to take showers or baths. Copeland for whatever reason wants me to sit and talk to him when he’s bathing. 

Me: “Son you’re big enough to take baths by yourself.” 

Trying his best to create a reason for me to go sit with him he shouts, “Mom! I need you!” 

Me: “No you don’t. Take your bath.”

Copeland: “But I need you to help me! I have problems!” 

Me: “What is the problem?” 

Copeland: “The soap is decaying in the bathtub!”

Marshall (much younger)” Next time grandmother says she wants to do something. Tell her No! No! No! Marshall, my kid, thinks that is boring. And he just wants to stay home and play with his precious titanic.”

Copeland: “My bath water is so good. And it doesn’t even have pee in it.”

Copeland: “Adults have difficult lives. They have to worry about tax evasion, fraud and defamation.”

 

Mason age 9: “I tried Nutella. It’s the closest thing to poop!”

 

Copeland: I’m single and ready to mingle!”

 

Mason: “I like my teacher, Ms. Lee. Because she can moonwalk.”

 

Copeland: “I got a mani petty last night.”

 

Mason: “My uncle is a black cheerleader.”

Copeland: “If someone has abs does their belly button cut them off? Or do they cut off your belly button?”

“If you fart twice, you’ll see some mice!” Copeland age 9  

“When your child tries to make you laugh, laugh. They love to hear your laughter as much as you love to hear theirs.”

-Unknown

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

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

The Promise

“Don’t be afraid to celebrate a promise when kept. In doing so, you’re the potential for a better world.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Ok, much better. Today I am going to write about a recent occurrence in therapy. Through some recent events, therapy has led in the direction to tackle my core issues about my adoption. Truly I can say that it’s not a day that I have been looking towards with excitement. It is so necessary, in fact, that I still shiver about how painful it will be. For those that don’t know, it is a topic so strong and powerful that the thought of it makes me want to vomit. However, it’s something that has caused a dark cloud to follow me in every facet of my and for the majority of my life. The very mention of the topic causes a retraction that is so instantaneous and powerful, that I don’t feel that I have a weapon in my arsenal strong enough to stand a chance against its negativity. 

I have trusted my coach on so many occasions for when it would be the appropriate timing to tackle different traumatic events. But the timing of this one, I would soon realize that no matter when she would decide on that “perfecting timing” it would never be convenient. I have written and spoken about it many times. And most of the time, I do so from my brain instead of my heart. I knew instantly that it would require a level of trust that I struggle to accept. After 8 years of doing therapy with her, I should know and feel that it’s been long enough to tackle the “primal wound.”  And I ashamedly still don’t know if I’m ready. I get some specifics about the plan, and I sit with the idea for a few days knowing that coach has never led me astray. And she ALWAYS has my best interest at hand. 

A few days went by, and I decided that no matter how scared, I would at least try. Seeing the strength and compassion in her eyes that I felt when I first met her told me that everything would be “ok” despite the agonizing pain. The biggest protector in my “system” of many distinct parts of myself is held by a 13-year-old that would give anyone a run for their money. She has protected me so many times from total annihilation on so many and very distinct levels. And this time would be no different. Once she realized that I had agreed to do the work, she immediately began throwing up roadblocks. The infant part of me is the most ferociously defended of any type of perceived threat. And I told “coach” what has been occurring. This defender is “top notch” at keeping me safe. But will also sabotage things out of fear. Some of her tactics were immensely helpful during traumatic events. However, she is still reactive during peace time. And this causes therapeutic roadblocks that can throw a “monkey wrench” in about any plan.

Coach and I begin the session with some guided imagery that helps me to prepare for the monumental task before us. What I begin to see is that this “protector” is holding hostage the newborn baby part. And she has always been inconsolable. No matter the situation, this little baby is like a an infant with colic. There is nothing that has helped her agonizing cries EVER! There is no amount of compassion that has been able to comfort her. She is non-verbal but her emotions are so uncategorical that I am not able to capture it with words. I am not able to listen to lullabies or tolerate the sound of a baby crying. When the boys were little their cries flew all over me. But at that time, I didn’t know how to do anything but run from the situation. I thought to myself, “How do people deal with a baby crying both inside their heads and as parents. What I didn’t know, at that time, was that “normal” people don’t hear things like that. I wouldn’t understand my pain until I understood the reason for the crying. And then one day the “A-HA” moment happened. She was retracting from the pain that occurred when me and my “birth mom” separated.

When I met my birth mom many years ago, she said to me what I had always feared, “You were an inconvenient then and you still are!” I can’t tell you how bad that hurt. And I still can’t understand how that must’ve felt like for a newborn baby. I could, however, understand what it was like for a 30-year-old adult. It was absolutely the worst pain imaginable. The rejection was like no other situation that I had experienced. And to put that much fear and pain on a little bitty baby was something that I would have to find healing from at some point. 

I tried everything I could think of to fill that hole to bring me some level of comfort. I have tried drugs, alcohol, self-harm, relationships and nothing was strong enough. Coach would have the answers. But would I have the courage to step out on faith and take her hand as guidance once more? Not long ago I would speak with a resounding, “NO!” What I didn’t know was how very quickly I would change that lifetime of pain with a different answer.

“Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.”

-Voltaire

***Don’t forget to watch the video at the bottom***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

The Emergence Of Camp Frat Pad

“Having children is like living in a frat house – nobody sleeps, everything’s broken, and there’s a lot of throwing up.”

-Ray Romano

Light charcoal. Sprinkle the Sage. Negative energy go away!  This next post will hopefully help you understand a little bit better about the relationship between the boys, me and our friends.

At the frat pad, me, the boys and whoever else wants to stop by for a visit are more than welcome. The “Frat Pad” is where we can all check out from reality by having fun and growing in our relationships. The adults can be kids if they want. We do so many cool things like nature walks, silly string war, gel blaster gun wars, water guns, slip n’ slide daytime and nighttime, campfire, roast marshmallow, fireworks, forts, bridges, playing in the creek, farting, nerf gun wars, burping, bathroom humor, swimming, movie nights, homemade ice cream and meals with friends, water gun wars, feeding and observing the wildlife. 

We also have serious discussions about life. Currently, one of the biggest sources of entertainment is the topic of puberty. Another main attraction is that we feed a little snack on the porch to the local wildlife. And we enjoy watching every minute of it from inside in the ”safe zone” area in the house.

Good friends, good family and lots of fun is what “Camp Frat Pad” is all about. I let kids be kids and do what some aren’t allowed to do such as Staying up all night Which they never make it to sunlight o’ clock. And sometimes they eat ice cream and leftover cold pizza for breakfast. Of course, there’s always “Tink” and “Coco” who enjoy being the supervisory onlookers. And subsequently getting some much-needed attention from their crazy friends and brothers.

The times when they come for a visit, and I mean the very minute they enter my house. It’s Instantly transformed into a college frat house party. We talk, swim and do many other things. The boys’ main goal is to eat as much as their bodies can tolerate. And to play until they collapse. The goal is to let them and teach them to love and to appreciate being children.

They begin eating like starving feral dogs. There is a lot of bathroom humor. Copeland loves to be out in the woods with his beloved rubber boots. Before I bought him the boots, He would accidentally on purpose get his shoes wet playing by the creek.

Me: One day I was frustrated and said, “this house looks like a fraternity house!

Copeland asks “mom, what’s that?”

Me: “I tell them both, “when you go to college most places have houses where they drink a lot of alcohol and do some “whack-a-do things. They are called fraternity houses. Where only guys live.  The times where I’ve gone to parties are loud and the houses are completely trashed. By the time you go back home my house looks like a comfortable place for squatters.

Copeland: “Cool momma! Can we have our own fraternity house?”

Me: “Of course. What would you like to name our fraternity house?”

Copeland: “I don’t know. I need your assistance coming up with a name.”

Me: “Well, how about if we try to come up with a name that has “Frat” in it?”

Copeland: “Ok. But Momma, what is another name for a house?”

Me: “A Pad.”

Copeland: “So it’s a frat pad?”

Me: “What if we called it “Camp Frat Pad?”

Copeland: “Perfect! Yay, I love Camp Frat Pad!”

Me: “Ok. At fraternity houses you must be accepted into the club before you can live there.”

Copeland: “How about at the frat pad anyone can be accepted if they need friends or if they want to place with toys, Xbox, and have snacks. The exception is not really sleeping here because we don’t have much room. If they’re adults that can sit by the fire and talk with you, Mrs. Robyn and Ms. Shelby?“

Me: “That’s a great idea, son! But what about in the summertime when it’s hot?”

Copeland: “They can come swimming with us. And then when we go back home you can get some pizza. And the adults can stay inside and talk where it’s air conditioned. DUH!!!!”

Me: “And if we don’t’ go back swimming that evening what would yall like to do?”

Copeland: “That’s simple. Make some homemade ice cream and we can play outside until its ready.”

Me: “What would yall play at night?”

Copeland: “We could play either Slip N’ Slide. Or a water gun war. Or a game that you can teach us. Mom, trust me we can find something to do. But we will be hungry again. Playing makes you hungry, you know.”

Me: “What do you think a good motto would be?”

Copeland: “A what?”

Me: “A motto.”

Copland: “What is that?”

Me: “It’s like a statement that makes up what Camp Frat Pad is all about.”

Copeland: “hmmmm…. I’m thinking.”

Me: “Think about what I allow you to do within boundaries.”

Copeland: “Something like when it rained a lot and you let me walk around in my boots and playing in the water?”

Me: “Exactly!” I knew what was about to say.

Copeland: “How about ‘Where everyone can be their self and have fun!”

Me: Copeland that is perfect!

So that, my friends, is what makes Camp Frat Pad so special! With the hustle and bustle of life and school sometimes you just need to take time out to enjoy and reignite the simple pleasures of life. There is nothing like sitting with your friends, roasting marshmallows, building bridges in the creek and hearing about how rude your older brother’s puberty is affecting little brother.

Thank you so much for reading this blog! Start from the beginning and experience the peaks and valleys with us.

“Some frat houses have a story. We have a legend.”

-Unknown

***Dont forget to watch the video.***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Welcome Home, Tinkerbell!

“Rescuing one cat won’t change the world but it will change the world for one cat.”

-Unknown

After the death of my sweet little Marley, my aching heart cried out for another cat. I soon brought Coco into my life. But even then, something didn’t sit right with me. I sat with that feeling for about a year stumped me at what it all meant. One day, like a light bulb, it would be revealed that I had a cat shaped hole still in my heart. I thought back to when I had Simba and Nalla and how devasting it was to see and experience the loss while watching the other one go around looking for the missing one and calling her through the meowing. They were littermates and kept each other company when I got busy. I always said that if I ever decided to have cats again, I would make sure and have two. I struggled so hard with the decision because my heart and mind weren’t in complete agreement. Would I, once again, be able to be vulnerable enough to step out and take that chance again? Turns out I did.

Returned to the same veterinary clinic and asked if they had any female kittens that needed a home. I didn’t care about the color or the markings. One of the receptionists said, “I think so.” She called to the back and within minutes a technician brought me the prettiest little calico. When our eyes met instantly I needed her, and she needed me. I was told that her name was Maisie. I said, “Today her name is Tinkerbell (Tink).”

I left the clinic with that sweet baby in my arms. I began to feel the healing of my heart wound. My only concern was how Coco would adjust. They both hissed at one another the rest of the day. By morning they were both peacefully sleeping and seemed to be getting along great. I was told by the clinic that her health was in good shape. But this little girl was walking, crouching and sitting like something was wrong. I panicked thinking, “Please not again!” my heart was beginning to retract. next place I checked was the litter box for anything abnormal other than their regular Tootsie Rolls. There was the most horrid diarrhea that I had ever seen. That was not the sign of a healthy kitty. She would constantly be going back-and-forth to the litterbox. My entire house smelled like I had been cooking a turd casserole. And This went on for a week. I felt so bad for her. She would play and then suddenly curl up into a black, white and orange ball of fur. She had a severe case of intestinal worms. I’m assuming that she had been given dewormer. Gradually, she started getting better.

The girls’ personalities instantly began to blossom. And have been the best of friends ever since. “Tink” has always looked to Coco for guidance on how to be a cat. Some of the instances are quite funny. Just to imagine their “supposed” conversations and I get to have a nice laugh.

Living as a friend, sister, niece, aunt, daughter and mom with a traumatic past isn’t always about being sad or depressed. I try to go through life laughing, as much as possible, when the moment arises. It’s who I am. And it saved my life. 

Please continue to read this blog as funny short stories, dialogs, and captions I will post soon.

“Not all angels have wings. Some have whiskers.”

-Unknown

 #Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Life Lessons #2

“The greatest lessons are often learned from our failures, for they teach us strength, humility and resilience.”

-Unknown

Light charcoal. Light sage. Negative energy go away! Ok. Now I’m starting to get balanced. Sometimes the blogs I write are heavy. There is absolutely no way to tell you about trauma that makes it appear cute and sweet. That stuff is just horribly ugly. What I do have are stories about the boys and other fiascos of life. What I do need to fill you in on is where I left off 4 years ago. I’m hoping that you were able to take something from the last post. Use what you can use and leave the rest.

1.  There is a God, I am not him.

2.  Don’t become complacent in living. It will make you comfortable with dying.

3.  Pride is just as dangerous as gluttony.

4.  Perfection is not possible.

5.  Religion should never be used as a weapon.

6.  The beauty of living in a free nation is being able to have your own views and opinions. No one’s experiences in life happen and affect us in the same exact way.

7.  Never settle for average. Expect extraordinary.

8.  Sometimes people love you for exactly who you are regardless of gender, age, education, religion, profession, political affiliation or sexuality.

9.  PTSD does not only occur in soldiers.

10. Parenting is the most difficult job that has ever been.

11.  Late 1970s and 1980s provided some of the best comedy called “Low budget horror movies.”

12.  Teach them. Guide them. Love them. And watch as the miracle unfolds.

13.  Some people are wolves in sheep’s clothing. Be ready, willing and able to take cover. They will unintentionally reveal this to you.

14.  Only Jesus was perfect. We will never be.

15.   Everyone should be in therapy. 

“Never let life lessons harden your heart; the hard lessons of life are meant to make you better, not bitter.”

-Roy T. Bennett

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Happy Birthday, Copeland

Happy Birthday, Copeland!!!

“You’re going to miss this one day, I whisper to myself as I’m
shot in the butt with a nerf gun while unclogging the toilet”
—Unknown

I remember when Mel was pregnant with our second and sweet little boy Copeland. It was one of the saddest times of my life because we had found out that Sarah’s condition had gone from being in remission to terminal and she wouldn’t have many days left. And we had lost Copeland’s twin at 12 weeks only a couple of months earlier. I was completely distraught at what was happening in our life. I felt guilty for being so sad at the loss of our unborn child and the latest news about Sarah. I was in a whirlwind of emotions and mad at God when I should have been grateful and looking forward to being a mom again. My mental health issues became more erratic at this time. My rock and my yoda and the one that was teaching me about life was about to be gone. I just couldn’t handle that. My heart was shattered at both losses. The world would go on and my world would never be the same.

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Mel and I would have to drive back because she had to go back to work. My parents would Facetime Sarah’s service as I sat in my truck waiting on an appointment. After the service was over, I cried secretly that I can explain. I cried because my heart hurt, and It felt like part of it was becoming necrotic. I also cried because my soul hurt. I needed someone to just hold me and let me cry over this loss. And as I cry now, I am sobbing like I did that day secretly in my house. I was mad at God for taking them both away. I just didn’t understand, and I still don’t. Everything hurt and it does again for a woman who loved me just because. What an emptiness I can still feel from those losses 5 years ago.

Sarah died in February and Copeland was born in May. And I think his birth was what I needed to keep going. Our boys will never know fully how stressed and distraught both of their moms were at that time. And how incredibly special and powerful to us for being our children. Copeland came along at a time at a time that we needed.

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I now understand what my parents have told me for most of my life. One of my grandfathers died in September 1975 and I was born in December of that same year. My mom tells me that my birth is what helped them get through Christmas. And for Mel and me, Copland’s birth did the same thing for us. That little baby boy put a smile on my face where only minutes before there was a frown from a hurting heart.Ever since he was born, and Marshall has had the duty of being a big brother we have had some of the greatest entertainment and love that mothers can have with their children. Here’s a conversation that Mel and Copeland had several months ago….

Copeland: What are you made of mommy?
Mel:_Sugar and spice and everything nice.
What are you made of Copey?
Cope: Plastic
Mel: No sticks and snails and puppy dog tails that’s what little boys
Are made of…
Cope: nooooooo I don’t have puppy dogs!!!
Mel: so what are you made of?
Cope: Rubber
Continuing the conversation later she asks
Mel: So what are you made of Cope?
Cope: plastic and rubber and Boogers!!! Lots of Boogers!!!!

Copeland Samuel Landrum-Arnold is the finest little superhero man cub that God has created other than his brother Marshall. I am blessed to be in his life and to be called Mom when I never saw that as a possibility several years earlier. I love you, son! And I’m so incredibly proud to be your mom even with challenges. Happy Birthday, Copeland!!!

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

The Marley Chronicles

THE MARLEY CHRONICLES

Cats are dangerous companions for writers because cat watching
is a near-perfect method of writing avoidance.
—Dan Greenburg

Since I haven’t had a kitten in several years, I thought maybe I could write things that I observe Marley doing. Yes, I have been taking notes on her behavior. I have sat quietly, while giggling at some of the funny things that she does. The way I see it, at least I get to experience unconditional love that I’ve missed since Simba and Nalla died. I’ve really missed having that. Having a mental illness that most people couldn’t begin to understand, leaves me living on an island. And then you look into the eyes of an animal and you intuitively know that somehow, they just get it. There’s no explaining that needs to be done with them. All you need is the willingness and opportunity to exchange energy and the outpouring of love will continue if you let it. Enough of the sappy stuff and tears. So, anyway I have put together a list of Marley’s crazy little kitten behaviors and wanted to share them. She will eventually write on her own but right now she needs my help.

1. Kittens can make snow out of the paper in a Kleenex box.
2. Kittens do their best to kill broom bristles.
3. Kittens are more like toddlers than we realize.
4. Kittens behave better for their grandparents than for their parents.
5. Kittens are like little vampires with fishhooks in their paws.
6. All they really need for a toy is a house shoe or a sock with moving toes to kill and they will be entertained for several minutes.
7. Their owners must have a high pain tolerance, Neosporin and a lot of love.
8. Just because you have on long pants does not mean your leg won’t be used as a scratching post.
9. If you’re busy writing, they don’t care. They will make their way to your pen and paper and then sit on them and look at you.
10. Trying to set boundaries with a kitten DOES NOT work!!!
11. Yelling “SHELTER!!!” loudly doesn’t work.
12. When you’re ready to go to sleep they’re not.
13. Watching them raise their back and hop sideways at their reflection is entertaining for humans.
14. Bathroom time for you is supervising time for them. Their motto is “If you can potty, I can do it better.”
15. Being told “NO!!!!” While being sprayed by a water bottle will get you attention faster than the Corona Virus.
16. When I’m cleaning the house, kittens want to help until the “death machine” (vacuum cleaner) is turned on. Then she sprint’s who knows where and sits quietly until death machine leaves the house.
17. AND WHEN THEY FALL ASLEEP IN YOUR ARMS ALL OF THE ABOVE DOESN’T EVEN MATTER.

Marley brings me joy and laughter. While living in Texas the animals that helped to heal my broken heart for my grief were: Harley, Annabella, Princess, Journey Faith, Callie Ray, Smokey Bear, Mickey, Esme’, Bella, Fanny, Black Cat, Fat Cat and a very special connection with Ginger Bella. They all were incredibly special animals that I got to share time and space with. And I’m sure they were all helping me to prepare emotionally for my sweet Marley.

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Corona Virus and More

Coronavirus and More

“Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”
― Jodi Picoult, My Sister’s Keeper

With the Corona Virus being something very serious all over the world, as well as, social distancing being a necessity I have been able to find to some humor in my boredom. Over the last several weeks Coach has given me enough assignments to equal another master’s degree. She has compassionately gone for the jugular. If it took this long and bad therapy to show me what good therapy is all about. Then the wait was worth it. We have also noticed that bad handwriting can be creative and incredibly funny.
I’ve also mentioned several times throughout my blog about my grandmother called Nannie and some of her crazy antics. The Corona Virus would’ve been no different

I went down to our local grocery store so that my parents didn’t have to get out. At their ages, they are more susceptible to the coronavirus. When I got there the carts were already wiped down with disinfectant. So, I grabbed my cart and realized after about 10 minutes that the only people I saw were elderly people in the store and I started chuckling. The first reason for my laughter was that I had started on the right side of the store like my OCD always leads me.

 

IMG_2641Concern In China As Mystery Virus Spreads

Secondly, I realized that the everyone outside and inside the store would’ve been called names because there was no handicap parking space available. This was a very big deal for Nannie. I could just hear her saying, “Well I hope they all just go to Hell!!!!” Like she was the only one entitled to a parking place.
Thirdly, I could hear her saying, “Now, just look here at all these old people out shopping when they were told to stay at home.” While I tried to point out that she was one of those old people that should’ve stayed at home. Nannie was quite the entitled person in her own mind. And as my daddy always says, “Your Nannie always had decorated language.” Sometimes it takes us just slowing down for self-quarantine to see the humor in situations.
#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Confucius Says…

Confucius Says….

Ok so it’s difficult to find quotes about fortune cookies that are better just called stale cookies. I have mostly used them as entertainment to amuse myself. Anyway, since moving to Texas I’ve begun to keep my fortunes from the cookie which my alters all seem to need. What makes a cookie more delicious than having an expiration date of 1994, a slip of paper with a random fortune that will never come true and some fake lottery numbers. I haven’t found a number yet that was as lucky and a random set of keys to a brand-new house showed up in the mail for me.

I have several fortunes saved. Nowhere near as many times as I’ve gone to eat sushi and left there feeling like a frenzy feeding sharks on Shark Week. But some of the fortunes have by paranoia alarms going off and alters running for cover. When some of the phrases sound like Brene Brown wrote it that’s when a philosophical conversation breaks out. Yep, I have a head full of sporadic philosophical geniuses. And let’s face it, I’ve been a little too serious and emotional lately.

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The alters’ that love the fortune cookies the most are the ones that lay close to 1980’s music and culture. They also like to read them in the voice of Mr. Miyagi for added effect. My favorite fortune cookie must be the one pictured because we were all caught off guard at the thought of sleeping cookies. They’re so stale that they are more like “dead cookies.” I’m telling you that most people who live alone are literally alone. Not me…. I’ve got want-to-be comedians going all day long entertaining any and every one that I come in contact with.

It’s times like these when I wish that I could be silly with Marshall and Copeland playing and acting silly. Even they know that we play when momma can play because the swing always goes the other way. I try to take things as they come like if I was given the opportunity to duck I wouldn’t. Geez…. really universe? So, I don’t just write lighthearted blogs to help you. I do it to help me and to deal with life as it comes. I take some dark and lonely roads sometimes and get lost trying to get out. She said, “It will be worth it. Not easy.”
#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

All I Have To Offer

All I Have To Offer

“When you’re just like everybody else, you’ve nothing

to offer other than your conformity.”

—Wayne Dyer

Lately, I’ve been adding some poetry that I had saved on my phone.  What I’ve learned about having relationships with my internal guys is how to listen to them.  If I get a wild hair and need to either write a blog or poetry it usually means that someone is needing to be heard.  Write it down and then ask questions later has been my motto lately.  What I’ve realized is that chaos and confusion are minimized and open, honest and direct communication has been encouraged. Trust me….this is one big process of learning how to build and maintain relationships with “head mates” that have seen a lot of the evils of mankind. I would like to thank Hobby Lobby and Michael’s Crafts for allowing me to buy supplies from them in order to do projects that enhance the building of a better relationship with my alters.  Ok….now I’m being silly.

I usually start getting silly when I become uncomfortable in some way.  And well, “Coach of the Year” has assigned me to write about what I have to offer as a person.  I don’t always like the “assignments” but I love the lessons and answers I get from them.  To put it all into perspective, growing pains are called “growing pains” because growth doesn’t always feel good.  Likewise, growth as an athlete requires constant practice and learning the ins and outs of playing the game.

One of the greatest lessons about playing ball that I remember was when we were learning how to run bases. Stay with me because this part can get confusing. You don’t wait until you’re all the way down the baseline to the base to look at your coaches for direction about what to do. You ALWAYS keep your eyes on your coaches.  Half way down the baseline to 1st base you start looking at your first base coach.  If he or she thinks that  you can take another base they will point in that direction.  Half way to 2nd base you begin looking for your 3rd base coach for direction on either to stay or go while also listening to your 1st base coach from behind you about whether or not to slide.  If your 3rd base coach signals to take 3rd base he or she will also be rounding you to home or telling you to “get down” to beat the throw at the base.  If you start rounding 3rd base and head to home plate, you look to your teammates on whether or not to slide.  So, from the time the ball hits the bat you look for direction and trust that your coaches are making the best decision for both you and the team.  Either way, you’re not alone…ever. You’re simply being directed until you’re back to the safety of home plate.  They direct you but they don’t nor can they bat for you individually or as a team.  The work has to come from you.

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Artist: Celeste Roberge

It’s the same way for me in therapy.  I’m always looking to coach for guidance.  I don’t want anyone to do my work for me.  I hunger for her guidance and fear the unknown.  But I also trust her and know that decisions will be made in my best interest.  And from having been mistreated by a therapist previously,  being able to trust her to not hurt me or to not have ulterior motives is really kind of a big deal.  It has take now a solid 17 months to try to work through a lot of the fears surrounding the therapeutic process. I haven’t conquered them all but when I moved here I hadn’t conquered any. Getting hurt in therapy by a therapist has caused more issues then what I was prepared to deal with.  I had no idea how hurt I was but Texas has a way of revealing all kinds of things.  Yep….a modern day “Mr. Miyagi” she certainly is.

All of this ties into the original topic “What I have to offer?”  It’s embarrassing for me to discuss this kind of topic.  After years of being told by different people that I wasn’t good enough as a human being and the fact that I’m a total non-conformist, it’s really difficult to say, much less believe, that I have anything to offer this world.  I totally stick out like a sore thumb with the problems that often arise in public (tics, switching, emotional outbursts, aggression, etc) regardless if I can’t control them falling short in society’s definition of “normal” is not easy.

Having limitations like this certainly makes life incredibly more challenging.  The eyes that you view the world with after abuse seem to be put into place without knowledge that it’s happened.  The confidence that I worked so hard to gather and maintain as a child was completely dismissed and destroyed through the hatefulness of others.  The compassion that helped to build my confidence as a child didn’t seem to be able to shine through the darkness.  Slowly, I began to lose my spunk for life and likewise pieces of myself.  I could no longer offer those qualities in myself that I lived with daily that made me proud to be a part of the human race.  I no longer saw people that I welcomed around me as a precious commodity.  I now saw them as potentially harmful, shady and very scary.  I kept my jovial demeanor that everyone loved until the hurt I was hiding became the new clothing for my soul.  And my big heart that had always been one of my greatest assets had gone into hiding in order to also protect itself.  I looked up one day and had no idea who was looking back at me from my reflection in the mirror.  My arms were severely scarred.  Eating had become a necessary evil.  And my dreams and goals for what I had worked so hard to achieve had disappeared like grains of sand that slipped through my hands never to be seen the same way again.

  sand through hands

I had become emotionally feral through my own survival.  I seemed to have changed right before the eyes that had supported me for so many years.  And now, I had become not only someone I didn’t recognize but also someone that other people who loved and respected me didn’t recognize.  I simply had morphed from an individual that people loved into someone that people feared.  It was heartbreaking to know that this emotional freight train was going through destroying everything in my path and I was powerless to stop it.  Mel and I searched for answers daily for years in hopes of finding anything to help explain why I had become this aggressive monster that even she feared.  She fell in love with Dana who loved and cherished her unconditionally.  And almost overnight the Dana that she knew was gone only to be replaced by an aggressive, disrespectful, scary, immature and seemingly much younger version of herself that Mel didn’t recognize or understand.  And frankly, I had no explanation for anything regardless of the evidence that would be presented to me.

We moved to Albuquerque and for me it was something that I had hoped that a geographic change would help to remedy.  It didn’t.  Once we got there free from the oppression of the deep south, we sought out counseling knowing that I had problems.  We had no idea how deep those problems ran but soon we would.  I could offer nothing to anyone.  I felt I was being drained of my “goodness” and all the positive attributes that made me the compassionate and loving person that I had always been. All I felt was hurt.  And all I seemed to be able to offer was more hurt.  So, my only solution to stopping the hemorrhaging was to end relationships and to isolate myself, as much as possible, from society.  That way no one would have to suffer pain through my own doing anymore.

Enough-abuse-campaign

Again we would come in contact with another hurtful human being in the form of a therapist.  The only thing good that came out of the 2.5 years that I saw her was the correct diagnosis.  Other than that she was incredibly damaging for me therapeutically and emotionally.  I soon wanted nothing to do with professionals and became even more aggressive to make sure that no one wanted to help treat me.  The truth was that I wanted so desperately for someone to help me.  I, however, was so scared of having another hurtful professional that the fear paralyzed me and sabotaged any type of help that might’ve been offered.  My new motto was:  “No one would ever hurt me again professional or not.  And I would do everything in my power to make sure that happened.”  True to my word I became a patient in facilities that people hated to deal with.  I gave a whole new meaning to the term “non-compliance.”  I trusted no one and hated everyone.  But my fearless and loving wife still searched for answers while trying to raise our two little boys despite me often times being in a condition where I couldn’t even get out of bed to take care of my basic hygiene needs.  And yes, there were times that she had to bathe me because I just wasn’t able to at the time.  That, my friends, is a example of love.

She would find a facility in Texas that she thought I needed to try.  For two years, she pleaded for me to go and I wouldn’t.  I eventually showed up and set the aggressive tone early just to prove that I could hurt and scare people just like they had done to me.  I finally met the therapist that would work with me while I was there.  I was determined to run her off too.  What I didn’t count on was that she would be able to see past the anger into the pain hidden behind the spewing and venomous rage.  I tried to end the caring and compassionate look in her eyes and couldn’t despite my greatest efforts.  This peaked my interest but the fear of her position as a therapist took over.  I knew that I had finally met my match.

Within 1.5 years of this experience I moved to Texas as a last ditch effort of trying to save myself from an assured death.  I didn’t come here believing that things would change and get better.  I came here because a rare find showed me compassion despite my self-destructive path.  So again….what do I have to offer?  For me, I’m still in the process of finding out what those gifts have the potential to be.  My sense of humor continues to be one of my strongest and best qualities.  I have an education that allows me to speak to people about the damaging power of abuse.  I have the emotional knowledge to be able to reach teenagers and to know the struggles of living life feeling emotionally trapped.  I have the knowledge and firsthand experience of seeing how compassion and love can topple the effects of abuse by soothing the pain and hurt.  I know and can feel what it’s like to be loved by someone who will sacrifice everything to make sure you’re safe because they want so desperately to help find the one they fell in love with.  I know what it’s like to make sacrifices as a parent to protect two little precious beings that still call me mom.  I know what it’s like to still be coachable after being a washed up “has been” athlete from 20+ years ago.  I have the experience and know how to continue to pick myself up and keep going when I’ve pushed myself way past my limits in order to survive.  I know what it’s like and fully understand the fear of letting someone in to help when allowing someone to do that caused so much hurt and pain.  I know the feeling of not being heard.  I know the agony of silent screams and the language of pain that can take on so many different forms. And I have the Experience, Strength and Hope of someone who’s been fighting a war my entire life without being in the military and not ever having to leave my homeland.

One thing that Sarah taught me many years ago was this, she said, “Dana, you have the capacity and ability to do great things.  But you can’t give away what you don’t have.  Recovery is what you need and what will make great things possible.”  So, I say this to you now…recovery is a marathon not a sprint.  You don’t ever reach the finish line of being “recovered.”  I still struggle emotionally on a daily basis and I still don’t yet have all of the answers I want.  I am, however, slowly receiving the answers I need.  Healing wounds is not easy nor is it comfortable.  And unfortunately, it’s also not instant.  It took me 43 years to become this damaged and dysfunctional and to think that it can all be changed overnight is unrealistic. One thing I never allow life to come between is me and my therapy.  I have my heart set on once again being a functional part of my family and to help my one and only soul mate raise our two little boys that we fought so hard to have.  And today I can say that the parts of my destructive self, no matter how slowly, have begun to be silenced.

“Mentors don’t just have to be people

who are older or more experienced that you are.

 Mentors are people who really care about you, know you,

and want to offer feedback and advice to help you grow.”

—Jennifer Hyman

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

“Bruised Inside”

“Bruised Inside”

“You’re gonna have to go through hell, worse than any nightmare you’ve ever dreamed.But when it’s over, I know you’ll be the one standing.  You know what you have to do.  Do it!”

—Coach Duke, Creed

In my blog I repeat several different views about the abuse I went through.  It might be from a different angle but repeating will inevitably happen.  If this is a problem then read elsewhere because this blog is about MY healing and when I’m struggling or laughing about something worth sharing, that’s exactly what I’ll do.

This is a great therapeutic tool that I developed out of necessity several years ago.  At that time, it seemed to be just what I needed that listened and was non-judgmental to whatever problem I would write about.  Whatever the issue was, I wanted and searched for my answers to some of my strange behavior at times.  I was simply searching for where the “old Dana” went and who in the heck was this “new Dana” in many different pieces that is trying to emerge?

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The one part of life that I’m very strong in is protective instincts.  This means protecting those I love even if the protection is from me.  I can’t say that I love someone and then when the situation calls for this protection I not be willing to do just that.  I’ve ended a relationship recently for this very reason and it has been one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done.

Looking for answers as I’ve always done, I went to the library to see what I can find about a topic that has been bothering me “Bullying at school by teachers.”  Most books on this topic usually lead to bullying from other students.  But this day, I found a book that would seemingly have some much needed answers and validation that has been lacking.  The book is titled, “Teen Torment by Patricia Evans.”

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I opened the book to a random page with the title…..

In this passage I found this….”In a culture that overlooks verbal abuse, teens who are tormented by it face difficulties accomplishing developmental tasks such as independence, identity, and career goals.  When teachers put them down or rage at them these students lose the confidence to become independent. And one of the long-term consequences of verbal abuse is that it disconnects teens from their emotional self.”  Essentially, what happens is that the teen learns how to feel nothing in order to withstand the abuse.  “The teen then can’t figure out who they really are versus who they’re told they are.  Consequently, they look for their identity outside of themselves making up an image that seems more acceptable since they’ve already been told many times that who they are is not adequate as a human being.  They might develop an appearance so that no one really knows what has happened to them as a safety measure.  They will go to any lengths to maintain this image which to them seems safe.  Instead they end up losing their own interests and talents because all of their thoughts about who they thought they were have been told time and time again that they’re wrong.”

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Indicators of Verbal Abuse

  • Show a noticeable change in behavior
  • Become isolated and withdrawn
  • Pull away and refuse to talk
  • Seem depressed
  • Cry easily or often
  • Not have close friends
  • Have bad dreams
  • Complain about going to school
  • Cut classes at school
  • Refuse to go to school
  • Throw up before school
  • Seem to daydream a lot
  • Have trouble concentrating
  • Get much lower grade than usual
  • Seem to have lost enthusiasm for anything
  • Become self-critical
  • Hurt themselves, cut themselves, eating disorders and pull their hair
  • Act aggressively towards siblings, peers or parents
  • Get angry often
  • Lash out at others
  • Get in many fights (Teen Torment, 2003).

When I was abused by this teacher everything that I was being taught, by my parents, about respect of another human being was confusing to say the least.  She told me so many negative things about myself as a human being and through negative body image that I was almost guaranteed to sprout the eating disorders anorexia and bulimia that I still struggle with daily after 30 years.  I’m tormented by her words and actions daily.  I can hear them as clearly as the day she said them.  And as sad as it seems, I hold onto my eating disorders and other self-harming behaviors with a death grip because somewhere along the way they were the only part of my life that seemed safe and something I can control.  But this “control” is a false control just like addiction to a chemical.  It’s also behaviors that pretend to be your friend until you realize that that “safe friend” has taken everything away mainly your sanity.  Self-harming behaviors of any kind have negative social implications which have made me a prisoner of my bedroom.  Most people don’t want to hear excuses for why you don’t want to eat.  They just see it as a disrespectful gesture and will think twice before inviting you again.  And God forbid if they happen to see your scars from cutting.  They think they’re hanging out with a psychotic monster that has the possibility to lunge at them with a razor blade at the dinner table.  My thoughts have always been, “If you only knew what caused these scars to appear, you’d think before judging next time.”

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When I finished reading only about 10 pages of information I laid my book down in my lap and began sobbing.  Finally, I had found some information that spoke for me what I couldn’t.  I saw on those pages validation for that horrible year of abuse with information about what it did to me.  I was called all the names and was told that I was stupid and fat among other things that children should never have directed at them by anyone much less from a “safe person” in a position of authority.  That year affected me in ways that I still can’t fully understand.  This book and it’s passages tend to make me retract from some of the information because of how close to home it all is.

As a teenager, I had much difficulty with emotion regulation.  I’m torment by her words and actions of that year.  Her negative body image comments have me fearing everything related to the topic.  I can still feel the bullets of her malignant words she shot my way directly into my still developing brain.  And to her I can say this, “You don’t matter and you never did.  I’m succeeding despite what you did.”  And for you I have a surprise.  What if it’s simply calling you and confronting you about what was done?  This kind of discussion needs to be in public where we both feel safe and can speak openly.  It could be that simple. Would you listen and deny any wrong doing?  Either way a surprise there will be because every day I wake up I’m bruised inside and you are the only one who can heal that wound.  Wouldn’t that be a nice surprise?!  Maybe that’s the surprise I’m waiting to hear and hold on to.  Maybe the surprise is something different. Only I know.

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Every single day I choose to work on some type of behavior or action that most people take for granted.  As much as I would like to re-gift this “gift” of surviving apparently it was meant for me.  And I’ll carry this burden with the hopes that my own children don’t have to taste this type of life and that monsters are just pretend instead of real as I and many others know them.  Carrying the trauma of the boys that molested me, my teacher, my ex-husband and his brother, a trusted therapist will end with me.  I will either win or die trying because when it comes down to it it’s all about leaving everything you’ve got physically and mentally in the ring, on the field or on the court.  Whatever happens my wife and boys will know that I gave everything I had until I couldn’t.  I wasn’t coached to give up until I had left it all on the field and could feel proud of my efforts whenever that day comes.

Rocky Balboa talking to Adonis Creed before his first fight….

You’ve never been in front of this many people….that don’t matter.

You’ve never been this far away from home….that doesn’t matter either.

What matters is what you leave in the ring

And what you take back with you is……PRIDE.

And knowing that you did your best and you did it for yourself.

You didn’t do it for me; Not for your friend’s memory but for you.

I can see in your eyes you’re going to do it…..Go Do This Champ!

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

The Comedy Of Daily Life

The Comedy of Daily Life

“Laugh. Laugh as much as you can. Laugh until you cry. Cry until you laugh. Keep doing it even if people are passing you on the street saying, “I can’t tell if that person is laughing or crying, but either way they seem crazy, let’s walk faster.” Emote. It’s okay. It shows you are thinking and feeling.”
― Ellen DeGeneres, Seriously… I’m Kidding

Lately, my life in Texas could be described as “OMG not again!”  Yep it has been a wild and crazy roller coaster that hasn’t let me down yet. Most days consist of staying in my bedroom in tears over things I can’t control and mistakes I’ve made.  I’m a worrier that will worry for others even when I’m not asked.  And being a parent and living away from my wife and kids is just an added layer of worry.  I think sometimes, “Holy Hell when will we catch a break?” If my life were a song it would be the screams of a cat whose tail is being smashed in a rusted, squeaky gate.  And then out of nowhere the comedy of life presents itself in a way that seems to catch me right before I willingly dive off a cliff.

Recently, I’ve had some comedy that has given me some much needed laughs.  I have been asked many times about where my comedy comes from.  And honestly, I just keep my eyes and ears open and wait for comedy to happen because it inevitably will occur when we least expect it.  I truly think that it has saved my life in many different ways.  So, as I usually do, I will share three times that I’ve gotten good laughs recently.

A couple of weeks ago I was sitting on the back porch watching the local wildlife like I usually do.  I have seen both predator and prey while usually singing or listening to my favorite Pandora stations.  There are squirrels in quantity that appear to be training for the “Limb-to-Limb Olympics” while also working on their dismounts.  I have had interactions with opossums, cats, snakes and the laziest frog I have ever encountered.  Those are other stories that have their own comedy attached to them.

This particular day was about the squirrels climbing fast up a tree and then a sudden stop.  Out of the corner of my eye about 30 feet away I saw a black cat crouched down on the outside of the fence looking into the backyard at the squirrel.  I thought to myself, “This is about the dumbest cat I’ve ever seen.  He’s crouched down and will run into the fence instead of catching and debilitating the prey which seems to be the focus.” I watch for a few minutes and the cat never moves.  So, I think that “cat calling” will definitely get its attention.  I start make sounds that sound like mating tomcats.  The cat still doesn’t move.  By now, I’m thinking that the cat is deaf and if I start walking its way maybe it would see me.  I slowly start walking to the fence and had gone about 10 feet when I realized that the black cat that I had been calling was actually a black trash bag that was caught on the fence and  blowing in the wind.  I couldn’t help laughing so hard that my stomach hurt.  I knew that this incident wouldn’t help me in a sanity hearing. I just imagined trying to plea in court by saying, “Your honor I was accidentally “cat calling” a black trash bag because of my eyesight, I promise!”

dairy queen

Then a ride around town and I saw this sign knowing what it was meant to say but the letters were pushed too close together.  From a distance it looks like Dairy Queen was adding a new menu item that  was called “Dipped Strawberry Buzzard!”  I obviously knew what it was meant to say but I had to stop and take a picture because I knew that no one would believe that I saw this in small town Texas. I laughed until tears ran down my cheeks.

The 3rd incident involves me going to Target.  I’m constantly trying to go in public in hopes that I will overcome my fears and it never happens.  Anyway, I was there right after the store opened thinking that this was the best time to go since there wouldn’t be many people.  I got that part right.  I keep an eye on everything and everyone with an escape plan close at hand.  However, I got sidetracked by looking at some clothes.  Out of the corner of my eye I see a figure standing right next to me.  I squealed and he jumped.  I was seriously thinking that a serial killer had just attacked me.  Actually, I was never touched but as far as I was concerned I was already bound and gagged.  Me and the gentleman both laughed.  I admitted that I watched entirely too many shows involving murders and profiling serial killers like Criminal Minds.  But I was pretty sure that I could solve a murder for the FBI on my own.  I also told him that I got so scared because I had just been reviewing cases and the statistics were high for serial killers that were found shopping in Target. Seriously, how was I going to justify that one. And that was a good laugh as well.

Life is difficult no doubt.  For me, life is extra difficult and a lot of times its for no other reason than I stay stress over things I can’t control. This tumbleweed from New Mexico has learned to ALWAYS keep my eyes and ears open and looking for possible danger.  In the meantime, I will continue to look and enjoy the comedy that life hands me.  Whether I provide the comedy for someone else or life drops it in my lap, I continue to fight this very difficult life and trying to stay alive. And maybe…just maybe one day I’ll begin to see my own worth and value that coach and other people have seen in me for many years.

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Family Traditions

Family Traditions

“The most treasured heirlooms are the sweet

memories of our family that we pass down to our children.”

—Unknown

I said that I wasn’t going to write a separate post about Christmas but gentle pressure from my parents seems to have prevailed.  Truthfully, I was already thinking about writing something about my family’s traditions that continue today.  These are very important to me.  Not only does it show the sacrifice of family members that I never knew.  It also created and still creates an ongoing story that was passed from my grandparents, to my parents, to me and my sister and on to both of our spouses and children.

I can’t speak for anyone else in my family and their personal thoughts and feelings about traditions that may or may not be carried out.  However, Mel knows one thing about me…..Traditions will be carried out every single year no matter what.  This year they will be carried out in both Mississippi and Texas.  For me, it’s how I’m able to keep in touch with those warm and very happy times that I remember about my grandmother Alma Buxton that would be known simply as Nannie.

I have hours upon hours of funny stories about my Nannie and our trips to Wal-Mart and her horrendous driving when she utilized the motorized scooters.  Her personal view of road signs and regulations as mere suggestions for how one should drive safely.  But there was a time when my Nannie would sit with me for hours telling me stories about our family.  She and I would both get tickled about almost anything.  The filter that should’ve been installed was missing completely so random thoughts would fly out of her mouth at a moment’s notice.

Nannie

Most people that know me understand that very little can offend me. And that I will laugh at something’s that funny regardless of the appropriateness of the situation.  My Nannie and I laughed  A LOT while I was growing up.  And we laughed even more as she and I both got older.  But every year Thanksgiving and Christmas activities could be written with accuracy without being there because it was Family Traditions being carried out.  And it was the same way every single year until she died.

Our holiday would begin on Christmas Eve when our entire family (mom, dad, sister, aunt and Nannie) would go out shopping.  When I was younger the story was told that my grandfather, Samuel E. Buxton, who drove a big truck would come home on Christmas Eve and that’s when he would do all of his shopping.  His job made it where this was his only time to do his shopping for the family.  Then all would go that night to drive and look at all the Christmas lights and decorations.  Sadly, he would pass away 4 months before I was born and I would never grow to know him personally.  But my Nannie and parents always told both me and my sister how spoiled we would’ve been had he lived to know us.  I must admit that our family never had any problems spoiling both of us just fine.

Mel and I have both told Marshall and Copeland how spoiled that would’ve also been had they been lucky enough to meet some of their ancestors on both sides.  Marshall Lake Landrum-Arnold is named after Mel’s grandfather and Copeland Samuel Landrum-Arnold is named after my grandfather.  We take this time each year to explain Black Friday and how we would shop as a family starting very early in the morning.  And then tell them about what we both did as kids with our families on Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve began once my Nannie and Aunt arrived at our house to have the sleepover into Christmas Morning. Almost every year my place to sleep was with my Nannie.  We would have whatever meal was created by mom and dad. And small town news was discuss for the first couple of hours.  We would then all pile into whatever car was available and head over to Chain Electric in Hattiesburg who’s windows would be decorated with some form of moving decorations complete with Santa and the reindeer with Rudolph leading the way.  There were also usually a family of bears with lights that were smiling and moving their paws.  The rest I can’t remember because they eventually moved so much that they fell apart and the business was closed.  But this little girl stuck in an adult body remembers the time that our family saw this as an important time and event complete with driving through neighborhoods known for their light decorations.

When my sister and I were younger sometimes we would have fallen asleep while looking at lights.  My daddy would gently pick us up and put us in our respective beds.  The years when we didn’t fall asleep we would come home from looking at lights and put on our pajamas.  We would then put out the milk and cookies with a note written to Santa thanking him for bringing our long anticipated toys.  We also left out Purina Cat Chow for Rudolph because everyone knows that reindeer feed on cat food as a snack.

A few hours later we would awaken before God and the angels to look at what Santa had brought us.  We also anxiously looked in our stockings where surprisingly Santa had some kind of inside information about us wanting grapefruits and walnuts in our stockings…every….single….year.  Our family cat always got a can of tuna that end up in the cabinets where it originated only hours before.

As we got older, Nannie wasn’t quite as slick as she had been for many years when she would wake up grunting and groaning with every step she took toward our stockings.  You could very loudly hear her stuffing the stockings with something in crinkle paper and having a hard time accomplishing her task in the dark.  Sometimes you could hear her saying, “Awwww…..shit…..just get in the damn stocking!”  I couldn’t help but giggle.  My aunt always had a stocking so big that you could’ve fit a clan of gypsies and a midget in it.

Then for several years before her death Nannie would say religiously, “This is my last Christmas.  I’ll be dead by next year. You better enjoy me while you can.” “Why, Nannie?” we would ask.  “Because I’m old.  And when you get old you die.” We would all chuckle but we knew every year that the reality of that statement could be true.

My mom and aunt also have a box that’s used for giving a gift between them every year.  I must admit that there was nothing quite as comforting as sleeping with my Nannie when I snuggled up to the warm hump in her back while her snoring sounded like a growling bear. There would also be Christmas music playing by groups such as the Carpenters, Charlie Pride, the Oak Ridge Boys or maybe even Alabama playing on a cassette or 8 track tapes.  Tears glisten in my eyes now just to think about how safe I felt with my family before I knew that the world could be so cruel.

Christmas Morning after gifts were opened and likewise recorded by my daddy either on cassette tapes or video tapes.  I honestly don’t know if those tapes even made it to 2018.  Some had the voices of my mamaw Susie Kendrick, my dad’s mom, who I dearly miss.  She was the direct opposite of my Nannie. She had a filter and luckily it never got damaged. If you’ve met my daddy then my grandmother was incredibly similar. The time was now about eating myself silly on my daddy’s Christmas morning breakfast complete with homemade biscuits, grits, eggs, bacon, sausage, breakfast burritos, some type of jelly and of course sorghum syrup that he would mix a pat of butter with just prior to putting it on a biscuit and then being inhaled.

For the next couple of hours we would try on new clothes and I would take my new basketball outside and shoot some hoops before we went to our neighbors house to make sure that Santa had made it there as well.  Nannie and momma would’ve prepared the ham and the dressing the night before.  The topic of the size of the ham was apparently important.  Nannie never ceased to tell us how much both the ham and turkey weighed.  I grew up thinking that we must talk about the weight of these two types of meat until I realized when I got older that no one really cared about the weight as long as it could fit on the fork or between two slices of bread for at least the next two weeks.

The food I waited for every year was the sweet potato puffs that had a melted marshmallow covered by a sweet potato then rolled in cornflakes and baked.  And then………my Nannies’ sweet and sour onions that just seemed to hit the spot twice a year.  Ironically, I still cook these onions every year and for a moment I can smell my Nannie and hear her laughter when we would open her spices together, make faces and laugh like life was just simple.

Each year that our boys have been born we told them even as infants about the importance of carrying out our family’s traditions and what it means.  It’s not just about seeing decorations, eating good food, and getting presents.  For me it has always been the legacy of the importance of family that my grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles not only spoke of but showed us through their actions the sacrifices that would be made all centered around one thing……the love of our family.

“I love those random memories that make me smile

no matter what’s going on in my life right now.”

–Unknown

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Everyone’s Entitled To One Good Scare

“Was that the Boogeyman?  As a matter of fact….it was.”

John Carpenter’s Halloween, 1978

The last couple of years for Halloween posts I’ve written about the difficulties of the this time of year.  Make no mistake that I’ve loved the holiday since I was a child.  I was a child of the 80s and very distinctly remember the smell of the cheap plastic masks with the rubber band and two staples to hold it on your head. And the one small air whole that didn’t allow enough air to keep a fly alive in the time it would take us kids to get to the next house.  Completely out of breath from lack of oxygen and the plastic mask sliding all over my face from the sweat I would hold out my bag at the next house while saying, “Trick or Treat” in anticipation of another dose of sugar.

As I got older into my teen years the fascination of the holiday and horror films would be my focus for the next 30 years and counting.  Most of us don’t exactly enjoy getting scared but this holiday has always seemed to be the exception to the rule for many of us haunted house, haunted barn, haunted cornfield, haunted hay ride, haunted school and horror movie going individuals.  And it seems that this time of year is when we turn getting scared into a sport.  I know that until recent years since having my own children that I was always first in line to anything creepy scary.  Mel she just patiently waits for me to return and to get my personal rating.

Anyone who knows me knows one thing…I love the horror movie series HALLOWEEN with the favored boogeyman Michael Myers directed by John Carpenter.  I am a true fan of this series.  This time of the year usually consists of binge watching these types of movies for the entire month of October.  Whether it be Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, Leather face, Pin Head, Chucky, Jigsaw or whomever might be your favorite “fright guy” there’s one thing we learned growing up is that the boogeyman are all make believe monsters in masks and make-up.

horror line up

Now that I’m an adult, I love to watch for the comedy in some of the earlier films amid the gore.  Here are a few things that I’ve noticed about horror films that seem to always remain constant.

  1. No matter how fast you run the boogeyman can ALWAYS walk faster.
  2. It’s an apparent rule that you must investigate every scary or odd sound.
  3. The cars taken to the future murder scene won’t crank even though you left it running to go check on your friend.
  4. The boogeyman can be burned in a furnace; shot multiple times; decapitated or drowned and still beat you back to your car and wait in the backseat while you frantically try to crank the uncrankable.
  5. It never fails….if you’re in class at school and happen to look out the window the boogeyman will be standing across the street, in plain sight of everyone else, staring at you but no one else can see him.
  6. No one wears bras…..EVER!!!
  7. Rotary phones never work.
  8. Windows are always left open.
  9. Cell phones NEVER have a signal.
  10. Doors always slam shut and jam.
  11. Boogeymen are always experts in the hygiene and mating habits of teenagers because that’s who always dies in the shower.
  12. When you’re in the shower and hear the phone ringing, after sprinting to the phone in a shower cap and towel, no one is EVERon the other end of the line.
  13. If you have a family pet it will be killed and then you’ll be killed.  Apparently, this is a horror film sequence that must happen.
  14. The boogeyman can still find you even when you pull the covers over your head.
  15. “SH-SH-SH-AH-AH-AH” translated means “run deeper into the woods then trip and fall over a big bag of air.”
  16. Every house in horror films from the 80’s has the same butcher knife in the kitchen drawer.
  17. Screaming really loudly while standing still does NOTscare the boogeyman away.  He will continue walking towards you.
  18. The scariest music to hear is whenever the little girl starts singing a nursery rhyme while jumping rope.
  19. After watching a horror movie at a theatre you WILL instinctively look under your car and in your backseat before getting into your car.
  20. Horror movie night regardless at home or in a theatre teaches you that five minutes after turning off the lights you will hear a noise in your room and will ninja grab your cell phone with that horrible little light and attempt to light up the room to see if you have company.
  21. Telling the boogeyman, “Don’t rip my blouse, it’s expensive you idiot!”  will not make him stop trying to kill you.

This year John Carpenter is back in the driver’s seat making the 10th film in this series.  October 19th, 2018 Michael Myers will return to Haddonfield for yet another bloody Halloween.  I might not go see this movie on it’s opening night with the rest of the fans.  But make no mistake that I’ll be there to watch it in the theatre when everyone is gone to school and work.  Another stellar “scream queen” performance by Jamie Lee Curtis I’m sure will happen.

john carpenter

This was sort of a “tongue-in-cheek” way of looking at the boogeyman.  For many of us, though, we have met and had interactions with the real boogeymen and women of society.  They don’t have blank expressions, knives for fingers on gloves, chainsaws, butcher knives or anything considered stereotypical of these scary people.  They are people who call themselves friends, teachers, “safe people”, trusted professionals, clergy and spouses just to name a few.

In the last several years, I have lost the ability to have fun on Halloween.  Horror films serve me a purpose and those reasons are reserved for coach.  I still watch my movies but the term “boogeyman” takes on a whole new meaning.  I face the memories of the boogeymen and women every day and night.  I’ve had enough scares to last me a lifetime.  And, honestly, if you try to scare me once you’ll not do it again.  Just like Jaime Lee Curtis playing the part of Laurie Strode in the Halloween series, I’m watching, waiting and hoping every single day that they don’t find me again.  Because they don’t wear masks, they walk among us.

“The darkest souls are not those which choose to exist within the hell of the abyss, but those which choose to break free from the abyss and move silently among us.”

-Dr. Samuel Loomis, Halloween

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

At Least I Didn’t Poop On The Floor

“At Least I Didn’t Poop On The Floor”

“Having a 2-Year-Old is like owning a blender that you don’t have a top for.”

–Jerry Seinfeld

I’ve always said that being a parent is the hardest but most rewarding job on the planet.  Our dreams of being coming parents was not easy in any shape, form or fashion.  Thank goodness there are companies that now include fertility benefits that makes this dream possible not just for LGBT families but any family that has this same dream.  Our dreams were fulfilled and soon much laughter would ensue for us as first time parents.

One of the things that I’ve enjoyed the most is the same kind of humor that I would experience sometimes days or weeks later after a specific event.  This is the same way that I’ve also found humor being in the mental health system for many years.  The humor might not be seen in the moment but trust me I would see it soon afterwards.  Lesbian moms raising two little superhero boys guarantees a wide variety of funny moments daily especially when I’m involved.  And there are also those times as a mother when I have come to the realization why some animals eat their young.

As an LGBT couple one of the questions we have been asked many times is, “Who did you choose as the donor?”  First of all, the process of finding a donor requires much more than noting the name and look of someone in a lineup.  The process is actually much more complicated.  It took us approximately 1 year to pick out our initial donor which is not the “donor daddy” as we call him, of the boys.  He is completely anonymous which is how we chose him to be.  We don’t have a  name only a donor number chosen from a nationally well known donor bank as HIPAA also protects their specific information as well.  We do, however, know specifics about the donor and his biological family’s health information minus the names.  And well….this is as far as I’ll go in talking about this part of the process.

noise with dirt

One of the most frequent questions asked specifically about the donor is ethnicity.  And after watching our sons single-handedly transform our living room into an obstacle course of different objectives that is only meant for kids no matter how much the adults try to succeed at beating the course I can very confidently say, “THE DONOR IS PART NINJA WARRIOR!!!!!”  Both boys have the uncanny ability to jump from the sofa, to the loveseat and then to the coffee table and back while having a loaded nerf gun; shooting zombies and dodging sharks in the ocean (otherwise known as the carpet) while simultaneously avoiding hot lava often times with either me or Mel being the disabled one who was shark bitten and is now hopping around on one leg from our wounds.  Yes they do let me use one of their nerf guns  which is usually the one that doesn’t work.  I inevitably  will take heavy fire from both boys only to get frustrated with my guns and just take the nerf bullets out and start throwing them due to mechanical failure.  My battle wounds are usually heavy and we both usually end up with many painful red polka dots all over our faces and body from their always “spot on” aim.  I have yet to understand why their aim is so good with a nerf gun and the aim for the toilet looks like a drunk with a water hose has been allowed to just have “free time.”  With the automatic watering of my eyes after a shot right between the eyes or directly in the nose and a loud squeal from me after another battle wound eruptions of laughter would commence.  This was usually followed with a burning question from our 6-year-old Marshall while I’m assessing my wounds, “Momma D can I practice shooting your boobs as target practice until you’re ready to play again?”

When the boys were infants some of the funniest moments were me and “DIAPER TIME.”  Mel grew up helping to take care and babysit children, of all ages,  on a regular basis.  I, however, was always uncomfortable around children and ran when diapers were going to be changed.  Being a new mom DID NOT change that like many would think.  The saying, “It will all change when it’s your child” was a lie.  It might not be someone else’s child’s shitty diaper but it was still a shitty diaper and nothing make that any prettier no matter how much Glade air freshener was sprayed around the topic.  I always hated those words, “Dana it’s your diaper turn!” My instant thought was, “Somebody just kill me now!”

one sock on

There are those people, like Melody, who are just natural mothers in everything they do.  I am not nor will I ever be that kind of mom.  I’m the one on in the background gagging at just the sight before the wretched smell even has time to enter my nostrils.  She would always end up snickering and say, “My God Dana!  It’s just a diaper!”  “Ummm….yes Mel that is the problem at hand!”  She would always try to help in her own special way by finding the nearest spray can of air freshener and spraying it all around the area where the diaper changing would commence.  When the sticky tabs of that diaper were forced to release the death grip on the plastic that occasionally helped hold the brown napalm death in its holding area the smell in that area of the house would resemble something like a shitty fruit basket.  I would be gagging and would say, “I swear it smells like someone took a gigantic crap in an apple orchard!”  Comical doesn’t begin to describe the sight of me attempting such feats.  It pretty much looked like a scene out of a YouTube video of father’s gagging while the mother’s are videoing and laughing hysterically.

I knew, though, that every time I got through one diaper that my turn would follow again sometime after Mel took her turn with such ease.  So, I tried to get smarter about how I went through this process.  I eventually took the time to wear full turnout gear like I was about to face the “Diaper Apocalypse.”  I would prepare by covering everything on my face, accept my eyes, with a sweatshirt and holding my breath.  I would also have both hands in sterile gloves to protect my skin from possible poop exposure.  Having everything I need very near and at my disposal, I take a deep breath and shout, “I’m going in!”  I always tried to change the diaper in the time that I was holding my breath but inevitably I would eventually need to breathe.  I would try to take very short breaths just until the job was done but some of the jobs seemed like a construction site.  Out of desperation, I would try to take an even bigger breath just to try to make it to the end and that’s when it happened.  I would start gagging and usually throw up but not without first saying, “Oh my God I taste it!  It literally feels like I just ate shit!” I would no doubt look back at Mel saying, “I’m in diaper hell!  Help me!!”  She trying her best not to wet her own pants from laughter would say, “Dana it’s just a little poop!”  I have never been able to adjust to such wretched smells that have come from our little boys.

I am also the parent that when one of the boys gets sick at school rushes off to rescue our little man cub hoping to God that he doesn’t puke in my vehicle.  The whole ride home, maybe 3 miles, I would saying, “Please don’t puke!  Please don’t puke!”  Inevitably when we finally get home the spewing would finally let loose and my own gagging would once again start.  This time I’m gagging while trying to keep our puking kid from traipsing through the morning’s breakfast.  There is absolutely no possible way I could clean that up without exposing my own breakfast.  But as the spouse I am considerate in my own way so I gently place newspaper over the area and block it off with fluorescent cones so no one would step in it.  And the soured mess patiently waited all day until Mel got home from work to clean it up.

Potty training is another source of laughter for our family.  I understand that it takes time when your child comes to you and says, “Mommy I have poops and need a new DIPA!!!!”  In my opinion, if you can say this you are old enough use the toilet.  Letting them run around without a diaper never seemed like a good idea to me especially when they take this to mean that they can “free pee” anywhere including my leg while I’m running their bath water.  “Son you are NOT a Chihuahua!  Pee in the toilet!” is what I said and we all had a good laugh.

hand out of pants

Truly, some of the funniest moments we have experienced as parents are the total randomness of both boys in things they say and/or do.  Here are a few of those situations.

  1. When Copeland was an infant and Marshall being raised in an electronic world when Copeland would start crying he would ask, “Momma can we put Copeland on the charger so he will stop crying?”  No son but we can pretend.
  2. Conversation between Mel and Copeland…..

Copeland:  What are you made of mommy?

Mel:  Sugar and spice and everything nice….

What are you made of Copey?

 Copeland:  Plastic

Mel:  No sticks and snails and puppy dog tails that’s what little boys are made of.

Copeland:  Nooooooooo I don’t have puppy dogs!!!!

Mel:   So what are you made of?

Copeland:  Rubber

Later Mel tries to ask the question again.

Mel:  So what are you made of Copey?

 Copeland:  Plastic and rubber and Boogers!!!  Lot of Boogers, Momma!!!

  1. Marshall being so proud that he lost both of his bottom teeth asked Mel if he could put his picture on Facebook, Instagram and TWEETER.  Obviously, Mel and I and the rest of the universe has been saying this all wrong.  Death to Twitter.
  2. Marshall and Copeland were having a pillow fight when Marshall was overheard saying, “Pick up your pillow and fight like a man!”  Words never heard in THIS lesbian household.
  3. Trying to give our boys the freedom to choose what he would like for meals has been advantageous for both them and us.  Sometimes you can get some funny requests.  Like recently, Mel asked Copeland what he wanted for breakfast and he instantly said, “Not broccoli-it’s not tasty.”  Ok let me just say before it’s assumed that our little boys are being force fed trees for breakfast  like miniature brontosaurus’s is not correct.  Randomness…remember…randomness.  How about a snow cone?  When asked what flavor of snow cone he replied “a chicken one!”  Now, I have seen chickens with flip-flops but not on snow cones.
  4. Just today I learned that both boys now take pleasure in crossing their pee streams with each other so they can see how they can make an “X.”
  5. Recently, the boys were arguing and then the oldest got “fwapped” by the youngest very unapologetically in the face.  Marshall runs to tell on Copeland and says, “Momma, Copeland hit me in the face and touched my eyeball!”  As hard as you might try to maintain the “parent face” sometimes with statements like this it just can’t happen.
  6. Copeland decided that he didn’t want to wear his diaper after his nap and took it off and then proceeded to go squat on the hardwood floor in front of his grandfather,  who was watching TV, and took a big dump.

Our little family has a complicated life most of the time.  Without knowing the obvious our family is just like most raising two children with both being boys.  Food groups have expanded from candy, chicken nuggets, boogers and now include a group known as the “hot dog.”  Honestly, you don’t even have to speak English as long as you can speak fluent “poop and wiener” you’ll be able to have a conversation with our  3 year-old and 6 year-old. We don’t ever take for granted the laughs because we understand that all that can change on a moment’s notice.  The humor is always welcomed for however long it’s willing to stay to give respite from the stress.  Mel and I were discussing something about the boys one day and it we just weren’t seeing eye-to-eye on something and the words that changed the whole tone of the conversation were hers, “Well At Least I Didn’t Poop on the Floor.”

“There really are places in the heart that you don’t

even know exist until you love a child.”

–Anne Lamott

#thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Life Is Better When You’re Laughing

Life Is Better When You’re Laughing

“I am thankful for laughter, except when milk comes out of my nose.”

—Woody Allen

The above title is the writing on the outside of my private journal.  Understand comedy however you wish but for me it has gotten me through a lot of situations both good and bad.  I have always prided myself on the fact that regardless of what events have taken place in my life, my ability to laugh and find humor in most situations was never damaged.  Often times humor was used against me as a form of humiliation and embarrassment.

As a child, I’m not sure if I was humorous or not.  However, with my dad’s quick wit and grandmother’s lack of a filter, in any capacity, there was always a reason to laugh.  In my teen years, clowning around became second nature and a form of survival.  I became a class clown that followed me into adulthood.  In most treatment centers and psychiatric units you can most assuredly find me as the guilty party wherever roars of laughter might be exhibited. This is not because I like attention.  I do, however, love laughing with like minded individuals.  Things I Have Learned on Psychiatric Units is another blog where some of this very humor was captured.

I am usually telling stories related to my late grandmother’s antics especially when birds, squirrels, her individualized driving abilities or lack thereof and Wal-Mart scooters are the topics. She never could quite understand the fact that birds and squirrels have co-existed for thousands of years together.  She also never realized that both birds and squirrels can survive on food even if you don’t personally feed them every day.  There were many days when you would catch her screaming at the squirrels in a murderous rage about staying out of the bird feeder because they had their own food (corn cobs) placed securely onto a tree.  After throwing random objects from her house such as knives, spoons, cooking pots, a tea pot and house slippers at said bird feeder and using language that would make even the most liberal of southern Baptist blush she would then proceed threatening them with verbalized thoughts of a mass squirrel genocide.  Even after her death some of those same house slippers were found buried beneath leaves of the once violent anti-squirrel tyrant.  The blog post Birds and Squirrels also reiterates some of these same scenarios played out by one of my greatest friends….my Nannie.

comfort zone

Her driving consisted of her ignoring street signs, mainly speed limit signs, because they were viewed as a suggestion rather than law.  My family and I started driving her around soon after we all realized that safety behind the wheel was not her goal or a priority.  When I would take her to Wal-Mart my 80 year-old grandmother used the same lack of driving skills on the scooters.  There were times when I would look up with her driving solo to the women’s clothing section right up into a clothes rack.  She then proceeded to tell me the scooter was broken  and that’s why the incident has occurred.  Never once did she acknowledge operator error.  She would somehow cuss her way into leaving the area on the “broken” scooter only to leave a trail of blouses that had been ripped off the rack.  She would also drive down to another section of the store with additional clothing and hangers swirling around and grinding in the tires.  I’m sure Wal-Mart wrote these damaged items off because they most assuredly could not be sold after my Nannie had done her damage.

The ability to laugh at our own shortcomings allows us to not take life so seriously.  Laughter helps to reduce pain, strengthens immune function and decreases stress.  Whenever I feel some type of major depressive episode coming on I’ll usually find a movie or a standup performance by one of my favorite comedians/actors to help chase it away.  Granted this doesn’t always work but laughter has been some of the best medicine for me.  Some of my favorite comedians are:  Kevin Hart, Katt Williams, Dane Cook, Tyler Perry, Rickey Smiley, Jim Gaffigan, Aries Spears, Gabriel Iglesias, Will Ferrell, Jim Carey, Dana Carvey, Margaret Cho, Amy Schumer, Ellen Degeneres, Tig Notaro, Melissa McCarthy, Mo’nique, Whoopi Goldberg, Wanda Sykes, Cedric the Entertainer, Jeff Dunham, Mike Epps, Russell Peters, Darren Knight (Southern Momma) and the late Robin Williams, Chris Farley, Bernie Mac, John Candy and Ralphie May.

While my ex-husband could be comical, he used his humor in a very demeaning way against me.  And in public or around family is when he would let these skills reverberate with only me having the knowledge that this was not done in fun. I picked up on those comedic verbal sniper attacks very well. Also, since tears and real emotions were not considered “safe”, humor whether appropriate or inappropriate was always acceptable.  To this day, I’ll deflect most emotions other than anger or humor because it just doesn’t feel safe even with safe people.  Luckily, my “coach” already knows this and gets my attention when deflection seems to be my goal instead of feeling uncomfortable feelings.

Learning how deal with feelings through laughter is ok.  However, using humor as a way to avoid feelings can be detrimental and deadly if taken to extremes.  Re-learning how to deal with feelings appropriately is not an easy task.   But I will still take time out with telemarketers to let them know that I have to end the call because I have a cow on fire in the front yard.  Again, another part of life where I must learn and accept the importance of moderation and balance.

#thispuzzledlife