This Puzzled Life is a mental health and recovery blog exploring addiction, trauma healing, LGBTQ experiences, humor, and the strange moments that shape us.
“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.”
“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!
“To become authentic we require a thirst for freedom.”
-Don Mateo Sol
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. I love the smell of burning sage. Mentally it somehow provides a bubble that no one’s negativity can penetrate. Even if only for a moment.
I have been shamed by many entities, friends and family for being a lesbian. I have two superhero children that came out of that relationship with their other mom. And my children have also had that held against them as well. Was that selfish of us to bring children into the world knowing that? No. I believe that God saw that we had two children that were absolutely perfect for the situation. We brought those children into the world loving them and wanting to be parents. We have always told them that families look differently with race and gender differences. And is in no way right or wrong. It just is. I’ve also been asked, “Well, what if they come out as bisexual, gay or heaven forbid in a relationship with another race?” My response has always been, “Then what a great and very diverse family they will have to be a part of.” I have told my boys from the beginning, “I will never hold against you who you love. If you can find someone who truly loves you for who you are and respects you, go for it! I will have a problem if they are abusive buttholes.”
I lost my sanity trying to be what others told me that I should be. And being a part of the LGBTQ+ community oftentimes we are “forced” to make a family outside of our families of origin. Not as a choice but as a necessity. Me and my children have always been seen as less than. We have not been included or have been treated as “sloppy seconds” because of who I loved. And how they were conceived because personal beliefs on the topic.
I have watched people through the presidential election and the horrible crimes of P. Diddy destroy relationships. One thing I’ve learned is that I’m not going to agree with you and you will not agree with me. So, what’s the point of arguing just for the sake of arguing? However, what I have made abundantly clear is that if you see something done that’s illegal or wrong and don’t speak out, then you’re just as guilty. I have learned some very difficult lessons about being scared into silence. My life has been largely influenced by narcissists. And the only title that fits perfectly is “emotional vampires” and “masters of deception.” The narcissist that I was enslaved by always called himself “a local celebrity.” To put it very bluntly, these kind of people are very scary. And cause colossal damage to their victims.
It doesn’t matter if you’re from a small town, politician or celebrity. Wrong is wrong. I can spot a narcissist a mile away. And there is no place in a society that harbors these type of criminals that often operate in the shadows. Just because you don’t see them in this role, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t happen. They are more concerned with their image than your well-being. If you’re operating openly then I have even less respect for those individuals. That just tells me that you’re even more dangerous. The commonality between narcissists is the fact that their egos are much bigger and stands out from others. They feel that they are untouchable. And they also believe that money, popularity, fame and scare tactics keep them safe from others that oppose their stance. They are the “god” of their own universe. I have also had family members that are narcissists. Most don’t change because they don’t see themselves as doing anything wrong. The ones that do change only do so because of “scared straight” tactics. And the only thing you can do is keep your emotional distance.
The abuse, for me, only got worse when the doors were closed. If this doesn’t fit your opinions, then take what you can use and leave the rest. It’s the beauty of living in a “free society.” I speak only MY truth. And pain changes people. I’m not here to coddle anyone’s delicate feelings.
When I was a child, a teacher was allowed to unmercifully abuse me. Yes “ALLOWED!” I spoke with school administrators 20+ years later only to be told that they knew the abuse was going on but they couldn’t do anything about it. Let that sink in for a minute. They knew that a child was being abused and did nothing about it. I fought adults on my own. Not one adult stepped forward and said, “This is wrong! She’s a child and you’re committing crimes!” GUITY! GUILTY! GUILTY!
Granted the science about childhood trauma and its effects on adulthood functionality was in its infancy at the time. Unfortunately, I am only one of millions of adult children who now know the harsh realities of just how deeply abuse can effect someone. In this day and age, ignorance can no longer be used as an excuse. Science is everywhere. And so is the research and studied outcomes of how negatively shaming affects a person’s entire being.
I don’t try and paint life and this world as a beautiful oasis where nothing goes wrong. I don’t tell my kids many specifics about my trauma history. But make no mistake they know who “the mean man” is. And they know about that mean teacher that locked me in a closet. They also know, see and experience what it’s like to watch their mom struggle from the consequences of abuse. And also what can happen to another person when we don’t find a way to heal our own wounds. And if that makes me a bad parent because they are prepared for the difficulties of life, then so be it. I used to have a real complex about having a mental illness that is trauma induced. But then I realized that what I saw when I looked the eyes of my children was that I was raising advocates.
As a parent, my job is to protect my children as much as I possibly can. That does not mean smothering them with my own personal beliefs. We are to teach them how to think. Not what to think. Teach them how to make educated decisions. And sometimes allowing them that freedom is very difficult knowing that there is a great potential for growing pains. We learn through our mistakes or we don’t.
I allow my children to make their own decisions within reason. I tell them, “Here are your choices. Whatever your decision is comes with either positive or negative consequences. Make your decision.” When they come to Camp Frat Pad I tell them both, “If you want to stay up all night that’s fine. But, if you’re a butthole tomorrow you will get in trouble.” Both boys go to bed at a decent hour most of the time. I also allow them to have the freedom to dress and cut or not cut their hair anyway they want. All in an effort to assert their individuality.
That’s a dream that I wished I had been allowed to live. My individuality always seemed to have some type of constraints. I’m not the kind of person that conforms to social “norms.” I am very ok with who I am. And the more you try to force your hand and make me conform, the more I rebel. I will also not be a part of sitting idly by and watching my children be treated differently because they come from a minority family. How can I expect them to stand up for other individuals’s differences if I don’t stand up for them? I have watched many people claim that they’re one way. Then tuck tail and run when it comes to the statement that is not popular among others in their peer group. I’ve watched that many times. And those people will not admit to any wrong doing. They just want only you to change. I don’t need to change that part of me. I have no problem being gay.
I will not ever silence MY truth because of someone else’s uncomfortability ever again. My children are watching me to see if I am who I say I am. And that I am. Nothing more, nothing less. And I make absolutely no apologies for being authentic. Because I can’t be nobody but me!
“If you want to know where to find your contribution to the world, look at your wounds. When you learn how to heal them, teach others.”
“To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make everybody else-means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting; and never stop fighting. Stay true to yourself, yet always be open to learning.” -E.E. Cummings, A Poet’s Advice to Students
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away! Ok that feels much better. This is a blog that I’ve been wanting to write for some time. For the last couple of months, I have been in a depression that has been absolutely debilitating. Maybe it’s been due to the stress of recent surgeries. Or maybe it’s been a combination of that and coming off all of my psych meds. Yes, you heard that correctly. I am now off of my meds and the mood swing has snapped! Run! Right or wrong. I took myself off in a rather drastic way. When I get an idea in my head that I’m going to do something, write it down. It will get done. Now I don’t advise coming off psych meds all at once. However, I wanted it done immediately. So, I put myself through absolute hell. I was so sick physically that coming off heroin would’ve been easier. Nevertheless, It’s finally over. And things mentally and physically have come alive again. And I do mean everything.
I remember looking at myself in a mirror saying, “Well hey you! Where have you been?” I don’t have any problems with the idea of antidepressants or any other type of psychiatric meds. For me, though, I was tired of taking them and constantly having to worry about copays to community mental health providers that I truly didn’t have the extra money to afford. I have also been on the state’s cannabis program for a couple of years with the goal of one day coming off those other meds. I’m just too impatient to go through the slow process of convincing professionals to continue tapering. And being that I’m a “street pharmacist”, I just decided to do it myself. I still struggle with severe insomnia that has somewhat plateaued at the moment. My cannabis spreadsheet is finally complete! Which means that I now tailor my “green meds” to what I need. Instead of also having to factor in traditional meds and their side effects. This might not work for everyone. So, do you boo-boo.
What this has also done is find the backbone that I knew I once had. Antidepressants make you much more tolerant of criticisms and everyday frustrations. Now I just smoke a bowl or do a few dabs and it does the same thing instantly. One thing that I’m constantly having to adjust is medication for pain management. That, in itself, has been quite the adjustment.
Doctors, no matter the issues, are just not willing to help with pain management enough to help keep people comfortable. I didn’t say keep them high or addicted. With “Big Pharma”, though, that’s how they line their pockets.
While living in New Mexico and Texas, my lack of pain management led me straight back to the streets. And that always leads to either jails, rehabs or the grave. There’s just too much Fentanyl out there for my comfort level. I can honestly say that being on the cannabis program previously and now that my addiction issues have not reared their ugly heads in this area of my life. Trust me, when addiction wants to take me, I go seemingly very willingly. In other areas of my life I am still in the grasp of addiction. Regardless, life continues to be brutal. And parenting doesn’t get easier either. It just has new challenges.
In therapy, everything ebbs and flows. Sometimes it’s easier than others. And sometimes you seem to plateau. Recently, I have had my most painful trauma hit me at my weakest point. I was literally awake for five days and crazy as hell. I know what a fabulous time to abandon medication and its requirements. I have always taken the difficult road in life that this time was no different. Dangerous? Probably. To me, doing things safely just takes way too long. And I’m not willing to wait.
I have always been a people pleaser. I have done what others wanted regardless of what I wanted to do. I felt that I have always needed to somehow strive for perfection that could never be attained. I’ve always tried to be for others, losing the vision for who and what I’ve wanted and needed to be. I’ve attempted to be straight knowing full well that I’m not. I have dressed in ways others wanted me to. Acted in ways expected of me. I kept my hair cut in ways to only pacify others. And I lost myself in the process.
I won’t ever say that “coming out” has been an easy process. It’s very different for every person. It’s probably the most difficult process I’ve ever had to go through. And more painful than you can imagine. Think about this for a second. If you wake up in the morning as someone who is sexually “heterosexual”, imagine what you would do if someone told you, “No, you must be gay.” You can try and do your best to be gay. You might even speak the lingo. But in your heart, you have always been straight. You just can’t be gay no matter what you are told or what you are shamed for. So, one day you just stand up and say, “I don’t care what gender you think that I should be with. I’m not nor have I ever been gay!” Imagine how freeing that would feel, for once in your life, to be who you know that you are. If you can’t comprehend a scenario like this then be glad you can’t.
It’s kind of like individuals who don’t understand why the LGBTQ+ community has gay pride celebrations. How many times have I heard the comments like, “Well we(straight) don’t have “straight pride” celebrations.” The Stonewall Riots were not about having “Straight Pride.” They were about the freedom of being a member of the LGBT community without the fear of being arrested. The idea of “straight pride” is ignorant. And you will look stupid trying to argue that point. So don’t get jealous every year when June rolls around and all of the rainbows, glitter, unicorns and individual pride colors come out and the LGBTQ+ communities are beautiful and flamboyant. Be glad that you don’t have a reason to celebrate “Straight Pride.”
I “came out” in my 30’s as gay. This has presented many problems including lost relationships, shunning by family members and loss of jobs. The list goes on and on. And so do the whispers and backbiting. As scared as I was to make that step forward, I did it! And I have NEVER regretted my decision a day since. I finally stood up and proclaimed who I am! People will call you all kinds of names. It’s the ones you answer to that counts!
“Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are.” -Brene Brown
***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.”
“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.”
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Ok, I’m better. Since my last blog was about the frat pad, I thought that I would enlighten you about some of the wildlife that pay us a visit.
It all began when the boys were staying with me one weekend. At the end of the day, I put out pizza boxes usually only consisting of crusts that once held a piece of pizza. Within the hour, there was noise outside on my porch. I put my finger over my lips while telling the boys to be very quiet. I very gently opened the blinds on my door and motioned for them to quietly walk to where I was standing. I told them, “Look what came for the leftovers.”
My youngest son Copeland said, “Momma, what is that thing?” I reply, “That’s a hungry possum. They come around looking for food. And they will eat anything. And when finished, they go back to the woods where they live.” Again, he says, “Momma, I didn’t know that you had anything this cool. Can we watch them tomorrow night?” “Absolutely!” I said.
The next day all Copeland could talk about was that possum. He asks, “Momma, what are we going to feed the possum tonight?” I replied, “I’m not sure baby.” Again, he asks, “Can I help pick out what to feed it?” I told him, “Yes. But for now, we must run some errands.” When I can I let big brother Marshall enjoy some alone time. And Copeland and I go to Dollar Tree for some weekend snacks.
We drove to Dollar Tree. Go inside. And there went Copeland straight to the toys. And I head in the opposite direction and let my OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) be happy by shopping in a pattern within the store. Right away I feel the panic building inside me. I soon feel the familiar fear that happens when I go out in public. I scan the store and generate a mental picture and ideas of how to flee from danger that’s, at this point, is unknown.
I soon heard his sprint coming toward me. “Momma, can I get this toy?” he asks. “Today is not toy day at Dollar Tree. I thought you wanted to pick out snacks for you and Marshall?” I ask. He replies, “Oh yes! Sorry, I forgot.” He says. I give him a few minutes while also keeping an eye on him. He runs to me with all kinds of snacks. He said, “Hey, momma! Look I found snacks.” He says. “Ummm excuse me little boy. That doesn’t even look like anything that you and Marshall eat.” Excitedly he replies, “Oh this isn’t for me and Marshall. All of these snacks are for the possum!” I tell him, “Son I am not buying all of that for the possum! You can find one snack for the possum.” His excitement quickly disappears after I crush his hopes and dreams. I tell him, “Find a snack that If the possum doesn’t eat, you and Marshall will eat also.” Life returns to his little face while saying, “I’ve got it momma! I reply, “Ok what is it?” I got the possum some microwave popcorn!” he says with excitement. I tell him, “Yep, if I were a possum I’d like microwave popcorn also. Excellent job!” I said.
What I continued to feel was the dread, like something bad was about to happen. Without alarming him I tell him that it’s time to go. By the time we get to the register I’m sweating, and my heart rate is through the roof. Copeland notices too. He said, “Momma, are you ok?” And I reply, “yea, we just need to quickly get out of here unnoticed.” The employee ringing up our items says, “Did ya’ll find everything you need?” Copeland said, “Yes ma’am. Me and my mom need to get out of here because she’s about to have a panic attack.” I could’ve crawled under the flooring. I paid and we finally left. Once we get in the car he asks, “Momma, do you want me to call your coach?” What you need to do is realize that you’re not in danger.” Ummm when did little boy get a degree in counseling? Eventually, the chest pains left, and I returned to normal. He says, “How about we go to Sonic and get slush? They always make me feel better when I’m thirsty.”
Within several minutes after getting our drinks we arrived back home. He takes their snacks into the Frat Pad to Marshall. “Where all did ya’ll go?” he asks. Copeland replies, “We went to Dollar Tree. And then we had to leave because momma started having another panic attack. She was scared and sweating. But we went to Sonic and got some drinks and now she feels better.”
Later, when the sun went down, I told Copeland, “Ok Copey. Are you ready to feed the possum?” He instantly got so excited. He tells me, “Oh yay! Let me finish my edamame!”
A few moments go by, and he said, “Mom, do you think possums like edamame?” I reply, “Son, I’m not a possum so I don’t know.” He said, “Ok, you make the popcorn, and I’ll get everything ready outside.” I cooked the popcorn and then walked outside where he’s been busy getting everything for said possum. He said, “Momma, look. I gave the possum the empty pods and made a trail so that it would find it easier.” That was the funniest explanation and vision that I will never forget.
The next morning Copeland wanted to see what was left of the gifts of popcorn and edamame pods feast. He said, “Look momma all the popcorn is gone! But it didn’t eat the edamame.” I tell him, “Son, it appears that he likes junk food more than vegetables.” “Good point. “he said.
Since then, we have named all the animals that come for a scrumptious visit. On Friday nights we always have microwave popcorn. And so do the members of the wildlife here at the Frat Pad. We now have four possums that visit. Their names are Luna, Cheddar, Bulldog and our newest possum Chicken. We also have three raccoons named Mr. Pickles, Pumpkin and Puddles. And a rat named Scratch. I continue to stress the point that they should never go outside and try to pet them because of how dangerous they can be and the diseases that they carry. I feed them some whenever I have leftovers. But when the boys come to stay with me, the Frat Pad comes alive. And we always take a minute to marvel at the beautiful wildlife that are also members of Camp Frat Pad.
“If we bring together the right people, communities can flourish, and wildlife can survive alongside them.”
“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.”
This Puzzled Life 