Nobody But Me Part 1


“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

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

#Thispuzzledlife

My Name Is Chronic Pain

 

I wake you every morning,

And kiss your nighty night.

Never bringing hope for tomorrow,

And you ask god to take your life.

 

If only they could see me and have evidence that I’m here

Maybe you could plan for the future.

But right now, you don’t care.

 

You have it all on the outside plus,

two precious little boys.

But you can’t have fun and enjoy them,

Only watch and hear their noise.

 

I’m buried in your bones,

nerves and muscles too.

No one can hear your cries.

What are you supposed to do?

 

Was it my own doing?

Or someone’s evil deeds?

I take every ounce of energy you have.

Until you’re on your knees.

 

“God where are you?” you scream feeling trapped and all alone.

 You can’t enjoy your simple life,

Inside four walls you call your home.

 

We don’t see anything wrong,

Your X-rays they look alright.

But just in case you start to hurt,

Take Advil and use a pack of ice.

 

Again, I have hidden from them,

and there’s nothing they can see.

You feel you have no other way,

trapped and inside you grit your teeth.

 

“Get up! And Move around,” they say,

And this treadmill will be the key.

 But the only activity that you can do,

 are rolling down your cheeks.

For to Drain the life is the final choice

the only path for relief.

You’ve done the best you could do,

As a group referred to as “we.”

 

It is hell inside your body though no one else can see.

Doctors couldn’t help you and silenced are the pleads.

The boys always wonder why momma doesn’t play.

You smiled and made them laugh, as long as you could stay.

 

They say you’re selfish while your color is turning increasingly blue. 

But I’m too strong and you did the best that you could do.

Theres no way for you to understand the battle of every

 day.

You have become trapped within a cell that hurts more even if you pray.

 

I pose this question to you all, “What if it was you?”

How long would you live in a mental and physical hell? And what would you do?

 

But I’m still here forever,

just like an ugly stain.

Let me introduce myself.

My name is CHRONIC PAIN.

**Don’t forget the video below!**

#Thispuzzledlife

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

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

Call Of The Wild

“Wilderness without wildlife is just scenery.”

-Lois Crisler

 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.”

-Jochen Zeitz

 ***Don’t forget the videos!!***

#Thispuzzledlife

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

Friendships For Life

Friendships For Life

“One friend with whom you have a lot in common is better than three with whom you struggle to find things to talk about. We never needed best friend gear because I guess with real friends don’t have to make it official. IT JUST IS.” -Mindy Kaling

Recently, I have decided to pick up the pen again and resume writing. I must admit that this has not been an easy task. There is a fear that, yet, I have not been able to identify. I have looked at it and I’m worried that I would run out of topics. Yes, not even close.

Coco was still just a kitten whenever I was still writing. And her little calico sister wasn’t even a thought yet. Coco is now a full-figured adult cat. And Tinkerbell is another little essence of beauty that was a perfect fit that we both needed.

When the boys come for a visit, they provide their own comedy just being brothers. I laugh so much while being a proud momma with a full heart of love devoted to them. Even when the weight of the world is leaving its mark. I manage to be able to smile and belly laugh with them. And often wonder who’s really the emotional adult. They are so mature at their youthful age. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that, at times, I envy that. We talked about so many things. I think that sometimes Marshall looks forward to little brother being distracted by momma. Marshall is a night owl just like me. Our talk time is usually late at night.

I’m amazed by how simplistic life seems when I’m with them. So, Copeland and I take a walk down to the creek right behind my house. We walk the trail and I tell him stories about when I was young and things me and the neighborhood kids would do every time we had free time on our hands. I tell him stories about building bridges, seeing snakes, games we would play and my personal favorite, the times when I would be the one assessing the vines that we would swing on just in perfect timing when they would break as I was directly over the water.  We look at animal tracks in the and try to identify the wildlife that has made its mark in the sand and mud. I just let the boys be kids while making memories that they will remember for the rest of their lives. 

 I keep my social circle limited to a couple of people and one child who is right in their age group. Whenever we all get together it’s a love for family regardless of linage. We are tighter than corn cobs in a hen’s ass. The boys play and the mommas have “real talk’’ time. I’ll take this time to interject that the “Mimi” of us used to baby sit me. And the other momma is quite a bit younger. I’m right in the middle. I don’t think that any numbers need to be shared. What we all share is the fact that life has left us all with scars. And that is something that I try to keep in perspective. We all have tears that find their way down our cheeks. And laughter that forces tears right down our legs. However, the mutual respect has only grown exponentially. If one of us went to prison, the other two would commit crimes just to go help them set up a commissary store. There has never been the question of whether we would answer our phones in the middle of the night. I’m usually in a sleep apnea stupor and too many meds to be awakened by my cellphone. I have no hesitation in stating that if I had an emergency I could just drive by their houses and leave the boys out in the yard, and they would take them without any questions. And Shelby is our built-in nurse that all boys need from time-to-time. Robyn is our “Mimi” that struggles to maintain being vertical. And Mason is their brother and another son to us. Our little extended and my children will be loved for infinity.

I still have not answered the question about why it’s so difficult for me to start writing. However, one possibility exists. And it’s called “Vulnerability.” Brene Brown says it best. Vulnerability is not weakness, it’s our greatest measure of courage.

“Friends are ones who overlooks your broken fence and admires the flowers in your garden.”-Unknown

#Thispuzzledlife

Marshall’s Birthday

Marshall’s Birthday

“We never know the love of a parent until we become parents ourselves.”
–Henry Ward Beecher

The doctor walked into where Mel and I had been sitting waiting for the ultrasound. The doctor takes the apparatus and gel and moves it over her belly. Looking at the monitor he said, “Do you see that little blinking light?” Mel and I both shook our heads yes. The doctor said, “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.” For a moment the feeling was surreal, but it soon changed to excitement. This was our baby and we would be parents in less than 9 months.
The next few months we would be preparing for our little baby to reach the due date. At 12 weeks the doctor would tell us that our baby would be a little boy. We were both beside ourselves with excitement. But in a few months Mel would develop pre-eclampsia and be put on bedrest. This would make me extremely nervous, but I was still hopeful that everything would be alright.

IMG_2273

IMG_2277

The days came and went but our baby’s birthdate would change from a date in January to December 3. This meant that he would be a preemie and would have to go to the NICU. The day of his arrival Mel was in labor 36 hours. I was just a ball of nerves waiting and hoping that both Mel and our baby would be ok. I eventually fell asleep on a couch in the room from sheer exhaustion. The next thing I know a nurse or doctor was trying to wake me saying, “Ms. Arnold your baby is about to be here.” Mel was also yelling, “Dana wake up!” I wake up quickly and head over to where everyone was scurrying around. Within a few minutes Marshall Lake Landrum-Arnold would be born and he was beautiful.
The team would whisk Marshall away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and Mel wouldn’t get to see him for the next 24 hours. It also meant that we would have to leave our baby at the hospital when we went home. That must be one of the most agonizing moments of my life. So, our routine would be me going to work and dropping Mel off at the hospital to be with Marshall in the NICU in the morning. And when I got off work I would go by and pick her up from the hospital which we renamed Camp Marshall.
I can honestly say that those days were some of the most stress of our lives. Leaving your baby at the hospital while you go home no matter how well things are going is very hard emotionally. The level of worry isn’t one I can put into words. But eventually on Christmas Eve of that year we brought our little baby home. Marshall was making our hearts beat then and he still does. The Christmas of 2011 was one of the most special Christmases on record. Because he was and still is one of the best presents, I’ve ever received. Happy Birthday, Marshall!!!!!
#thispuzzledlife

I AM THANKFUL

I AM THANKFUL

At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.
—Albert Schweitzer

With the Thanksgiving season here I couldn’t help but think of things that I’m thankful for. The transition back to living in Mississippi is one that is still in process. I’m grateful to be back around family but living in solitude for so long has left its mark. Still amid some of the frustration I’m incredibly grateful just to have another day to wake up to every morning. Everything I learned in Texas is being put into practice which includes everyday frustrations and the sometimes overstimulation of being in public and around people daily.

My heart has longed for several things over the past couple of years since being in Texas and this thanksgiving my heart was warmed by not having to spend the holidays alone again. I was able to spend the day and night with my two little boys. I can’t explain to you what healing effects that had on my heart. I finally got to show them that I could be around little boys without freaking out. More than once both boys were in my lap while we were rocking and snuggling. And we were able to go to Walmart shopping hand in hand amid the holiday crowd.

It wasn’t comfortable but there were no cold sweats that day. Texas taught me that not all situations would be comfortable, but I would be ok. And that’s exactly what’s happening. I have been preparing for two years for the days and things that I’m currently experiencing. But when my little boys told me that they loved me and are happy that I moved back home that was all I needed to hear.

THANKFUL

I still had to dodge nerf bullets and some of those might not ever be found again. And a trip to McDonalds and all the squealing and stimulation was enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. But I got to enjoy the boys being able to just be kids without feeling like I would snap from all the noise. Instead I was able to enjoy the chaos that I had missed. Me, my boys and my family could tell that my hard work and healing was paying off and that brought the tears to my eyes.
Those that say, “Well, that was just one time.” I say, “I remember the times when a day and a half of being around my boys squealing and playing without snapping wasn’t possible.” I did it and I’m still doing it. My hard work is paying off and for that I AM THANKFUL.
#thispuzzledlife

Through The Eyes Of A Child (poetry)

Through The Eyes Of A Child

We Started our lives tiny and cold
Bright lights and loud noises only a few days old
We would have two mommies and the world to see.
One of our mommies would come with an extra scoop
of “special” the one called Momma D.

We know that you love us and most of the time you’re fun
But momma you scare us when you talk about guns.
Your scars we would notice and excuses we would hear
We saw the blood on the floor and your
yelling would hurt our little ears.

Momma Mel cried a lot and things you said weren’t nice.
You had expressions that scared us because your heart seemed cold as ice.
We didn’t know who had hurt you

because we didn’t understand your tears

But we did understand on word and that one word was…FEAR.

We were both born into this world for you to teach us and to guard
Why does this concept seem to be so hard?
Many times, we ran to you because kids get scared.
But the one we looked to for protection, only her body was there.

As a child we need protecting and that’s your job to do.
If you had looking into your own eyes would you
Know who was looking back at you?
One minute you were our mommy acting like a funny clown
But a lot of the time you wore a big frown.

We don’t know what they did and we’re still too young to know.
The big, scary figure we just wanted it to go.
We know you didn’t mean it but if you could only see.
That the people that hurt you were now hurting me.

If you could only understand how much we love you and
Know that our love is free
We are not the ones that hurt you, momma, open your eyes,
break down those walls and see.
Our names are Marshall and Copeland we are ages 7 and 3.
Please momma get help and be who we need you to be.

We are separated for now because there’s work that needs to be done.
And at the end of this time we will still be your loving sons.
But at the end we will proudly say, “Look at Momma D now and the person
She has become!”

You’re setting for us an example about how we should live
The ones that look up to you are two little kids.
And once day your tears will be nothing but smiles
Because you learned many lessons through the eyes of
Of a child.
#thispuzzledlife