Babies and Bones

I wanted to write about my strange dream from two nights ago. The dream still haunts my mind and I thought maybe writing about it would help me process my feelings.

My sister Vicki, has been dead for ten years. In my dream, I had a feeling something was wrong and I had her body exhumed.  When the coffin was opened, I saw her.  Badly decomposed but strangely still lovely.  Her hands were folded across her chest with a rosary. Then I saw a pregnant belly. She wasn't pregnant but in the dream she was. The doctor cut open her belly and laid a perfect baby girl in my arms. The baby was beautiful. She was alive and looked just like me!  Bright blue eyes and pink cheeks! I was so happy that I got her out.

I made her my baby. She loved me and drank my milk. I was convinced Vicki had left me her child to love since she could not stay. Then things became different.  Everyone around me could not see that the baby was alive. To everyone else, she was dead. But when they left the room the baby woke and would smile and coo and was such a joy.  I ignored the others and kept my new baby girl. I took pictures of her with my other two children, but when I looked at the photos.. she was dead. I was horrified!!  I didn't understand!

It was awful. I woke up crying hysterically. I felt so empty. The dream was so real. I saw my sister.. for the first time since she died. And it was like she gave me a gift to help me cope. 

What a terrible thing to dream. It affected my entire day yesterday. I feel the ache of her loss, all over again. And the loss of her baby, that felt so good to hold.

Somebody Said HIs Name Was Jesus

Who is that man up on that cross?

Somebody said "His name is Jesus"

They nailed him there, but he got off..

Never forget, the name of Jesus.


If your ever in trouble, he is who to call

When your on your knees, he is standing tall

Ready to hold you and fix it all

Always remember the name of Jesus.


In this life, you'll be let down

With disappointments all around

But one day, you can trade your burdens for a crown

And then lay it at the feet of Jesus.


Oh this Saviour, that died for me

To bear my sins on Calvary

Nothing I can do can set me free

Only the love of Jesus.

Tiny Tims Long Journey

My son Timothy, was born two months early. On May 8th, 2002.. I woke up and walked to our kitchen in Athens, Alabama.. and while standing at the sink I looked down and saw a lot of blood running down to the floor. I slid down to the floor in sight of the blood and panic rushed through body. I crawled to the phone.. and called my husband who was at work forty-five minutes away. He called his ex wife who lived nearby to come over and help me. She came and called 911.
I was taken to Athens Limestone Hospital and I was told, that my placenta had abrupted. They pumped me full of steroids and fluids.. kept me a few nights and sent me home on bed rest. I was only to get up to go the bathroom because of my pre eclampsia.. my blood pressure rose too high when I stood up.

On the morning of May 15th, 2002.. I have only one memory of that morning. The events of that day were told to me.

I remember waking up and not feeling right. I remember feeling like I was dying.. and I was afraid for my baby. I heard the phone ringing but I couldn't move my body to answer the phone. Ken had been calling from work but the phone sounded so far away. He sent his ex back over to check on me. She reported that I was swollen and unresponsive. I remember following a flashing light in the corner of the bedroom. She went to the kitchen and made me a sandwich.. when she returned I ate some of the sandwich and kept staring at the light in the corner. Then she said, my eyes rolled back into my head and I began having a seizure. She called 911. When the squad arrived.. I was already into a second seizure and was foaming at the mouth, and blood was all over the bed.

Inside the squad it took two paramedics and Flo.. to hold me down so they could start an IV. I had another seizure on the way to the hospital. There was no time wasted once at the hospital. I went right into surgery, for an emergency c section. Timothy Christoper arrived into the world.. and was taken right away for a trip to Huntsville Hospital. I stayed in Athens, and didn't wake up for three days. Blood tests showed that I had Eclapsia, Toxemia, kidney and liver failure and HELLP Syndrome. My baby laid in a incubator without ever being touched by his mothers hands. When I was discharged from the hospital on day five.. I couldn't get to Huntsville NICU fast enough.

I walked up to where Timmy lay, bawling my eyes out. I couldn't control myself. I wanted to hold my son and I couldn't and I was angry at the nurses for not letting me touch my baby. I was full of anger and hurt. I kept telling Timmy how sorry I was for not being able to carry him to term.. and for the horrible conditions surrounding his birth. I visited him everyday.. and finally I got to hold him and feed him from a tube. He was so small. His skin was too big for his little body. I felt like a complete failure as a mother.

He gained weight quickly. When he reached four pounds he was allowed to go home. I stayed on seizure medication for six months.. and a hand full of other pills for my liver and kidneys. I don't remember his first months.. its all a blank in my mind. I had no friends to visit and my family was 500 miles away. I had Ken when he came home from work.. and no one else.

It was just me and my tiny man. He was the best gift ever. I am quite aware that we both dodged death. Fifty years ago we wouldn't have made it. He met all his milestones on time.. just as if he had been born on time. Like a good mom, he received all his immunizations on schedule. It wasn't until he was 18 months, on the day he got his MMR shot that he changed for the worse. He got a high fever, had a seizure and lost all his speech and motor skills.  Once again, I felt like a failure for not knowing that the shots were going to hurt him. I was depressed and pissed off. I made it my mission to get early intervention services for him. I taught my son, sign language to communicate with him. With time he learned his words back but it remained clear that he was never going to be the same.

At three, he was diagnosed with Autism and my heart broke again. My beautiful, blond baby was going to struggle the rest of his life.

Today, he is ten. He still struggles in social aspects and with self control. But he is smart, funny and amazing.  I love him so much. He is a fighter for sure.
He has been on a very long, rough journey for a little guy. Thank the Lord above, he spared my baby boy.. and taught me some very hard lessons.

Not Like Me

Her baby teeth are falling out and her hair is getting long

She has her own way of doing things; She moves to tune of her own heart song.

She looks like me, but she is her own,  I watch her in awe, as she grows..


She argues with me and is sure to give me her say, But I am so thankful that she is made that way.

I don't want her to cower in anyones shadow or go along with the crowd

I want her to fight in the name of what's right, when the voices of others are loud.


I try to guide her gently and offer my hand to hold

But I know theres a day, when God takes me away and she will have to stand on her own.


I am proud of her spunk and her spirit, that somehow I failed to achieve

My needy ways have skipped her and I am thankful she is not like me.


Soar baby girl to the heavens..

May you live out each one of your dreams

Your momma loves you so deeply

When you sing, Angel, sing one for me.

Changing Places

I have not slowed down to process my thoughts. So many changes have went on in the time since my last blog.  Something is off. Something is broken and I am trying my best to slow down and make sense of it all.

I left my husband of twelve years, three months ago. I had enough. Enough of his crap, his abuse, his negligence. I set out and began a new relationship with a man that I have known since I was seventeen. We dated briefly then, and then it ended and he chose to marry another girl that we worked with. He had three children with her, and that marriage ended five years ago.  Here we are again, we share a common past. We are share a special bond, he is connected to my youth. He seems to represent in my mind, a Mindy that was before Ken. Before he destroyed my heart and hopes. With Russell, I feel like a chance to start over, a beginning that I have been unable to create in my efforts throughout the years. Russell's parents are allowing me to stay here with them until I can find my own housing for Kensie and I.

Ken refused to leave my apartment. He got us evicted for non payment of rent. And from that, we lost most of our belongings. I have no where else to go. So this home for now. Ken took Timmy to Tennessee to live, I'm sure this was probably the best that could have happened. For those that don't know my son personally, do not understand how extreme and hostile his behavior can become. He really does require a man to keep his behaviors in check. And Kensie needed to be apart from him for awhile so I can work on her. She has been the brunt of his frustrations for years. I don't want her to think it is normal for her to be pounded on and that apologies make it better. I have set a poor example in staying in an unhealthy relationship for as long as I did.  I want so much better for her.

I can't look out to the future and see how this all will unfold. I hope there is a better day, a brighter day, with more smiles than tears. I know Russell is not my savior, but I look to him to lead me somewhere. I don't know if he is able to do that. But I love him and I am thankful he gave me a hand to grab onto as I leaped from the cliffs of my prison.

I started a new job, I am trying to earn enough money to survive. This is not easy.  I would love it if I didn't have to worry about just getting by in life. I would love a home and yard to garden in. I wish I didn't have to slave away for dollars, but could stay at home and bake muffins, and just be a wife and mother.  I feel somewhat resentful at people who seem to have it made. They have enough to buy extras and I count pennies just for a few dollars to put in my gas tank. I want to educate my daughter and give her a chance to do better in her life. I wish I could give her more. Her own room, maybe some piano lessons. I tell her all the time that she is smart. I hope I instill some confidence in her that is so lacking in me.  She deserves better than what I am able to give her.

Russell says he loves me. I believe him. I am hoping with all my might that we can make a life together. I am thankful that he is in my life. I dont' want to be alone. This world is a big and scary place for me, and I feel like I have had no one to depend on. No safe place to lay my head.

I hope this is it.

There they are, the two of them..

"There they are.. the two of them; Formed in my womb and now on the outside, walking around and making decisions."

I want to draw them near and say, "Cover your eyes, don't look at that, Cover your ears! Don't listen to that!" Come with me, that way over there is no where. That door is locked, and that one is treacherous..

But even they will not listen. They will be led by the desires of their hearts, the pursuit of their own happiness. I can teach best by example. Since I have lived and loved much, I have many scars. I can show them my scars and say this is what not to do. Do better, live wiser than me, little hearts.

Live, laugh and love but not at the expense of your own souls. You are your own gatekeeper, choose very carefully who you allow to come inside. Few are worthy to grace your inner spaces.

Be children of Truth. Be true to yourself. Live in a way that shows you to be blameless when others stand around you, with guilt dripping from their hands.

You are made of light and are beautiful. Never hid your brightness with conformity. Shine out loud with the Divine privilege you were born with. You belong to God.  You were born of me, but were first His.

You are loved beyond measure. Take that love captive and love forward. Take sustenance from the Earth and grow like a Tree of Life from the garden in which you were planted. I pray your fruit shows to be a true reflection of the content of your hearts and not camouflaged by confusion and insecurity.

Go now and walk under the protection of God's almighty hand.

11:03 with Mom

11:03 and I called up my mom

She knew right away that something was wrong..

I told her my hurts and how I couldn't bear if she died..

I couldn't stand over her casket and tell her good bye..

Losing our Vicki, just about did me in.. but mom... no, please God

I can't go through that again..


She listened to my fretful heart and offered her words of hope

She said that she is apart of me, wherever I may go

She told me not to hang my head but hold it way up high-

To know that she will be looking at me through the sparkle in Kensie's eyes


And through me she will live on, and Vicki will too

So go on and do the things that you were meant to do..

Write it all down.. sing your songs and dance

Love people the way you do and give yourself a chance

To be happy! Live! Stay strong!

I love you Mindysue with all my heart...

I love you too, Mom. <3

Threw me away..

You threw me away
Waded me up and threw me away
Trash can run over-with so much to say
I just still can’t believe you threw me away

I thought I meant more to you than what I was to you
How could you go and break me down?
You liked my pretty face, thought I had so much taste
To even like you anyhow..

Threw me away, threw me away..
Left here hurtin’ with so much to say
Baby, why did you have to throw me away?

Other girls may catch your eyes
You’ll hang stars up in their skies
But one day don’t be too surprised…

When she throws you away, throws you away..
Leaves you standing there- with so much to say
She’ll crumple your heart and throw it away..

Don’t even think about lookin’ my way
Keep on walkin’ when she throws you away.

Trippin' on my apron strings..

I finally got some internet turned back on at home... and have been waiting for the inspiration to sit down and write. Today I am off work and the kids are at school so the creative juices should be flowing... but.. not quite. So much has been happening lately and not very much at all. I have been working hard at my not-so-perfect job, and beating myself up for being too tired to be the June Clever momma that I used to pride myself being.  My carpet is nasty, there are dishes in the sink.. and I haven't taken a shower today. As a matter of fact, I took my daughter to the bus stop in my Tinkerbell pj bottoms and a mismatched motorcycle shirt, three sizes too big. I am awesome.

Timmy has been doing fine at his new school. He is "mainstreaming" awesomely. I wonder if I did him a major disservice by putting him in "Autism School" in the first place. I think back to the violent nature of his behavior and maybe it was the right thing.. nevertheless.. that chapter is all said and done now. He a bright beautiful boy and he will be ten years old next month. That makes me feel old to say that! My babies are not babies anymore, and there will not be anymore little bundles to fill my arms.

I have entered back into the chaotic world of the Waffle House, with all its bullshit and drama. I try to stay a layer above it all.. trying not to get sucked into the vortex of gossip. When everyone else is being a sour puss, I encourage. When the tone of the group is negative.. I try to be the sunshine. Some days it works.. some days it doesn't.  I really like the days when the shift is steady and all the busybodies have gone home. I like the way the sun fills my section with light and warmth.  My tables are clean and side work is complete. I love presenting a perfect plate of cooked to order food to my customer. It is so satisfying to me to offer flawless customer service. It may be just Waffle House, but I really do what I do as if I were doing for Jesus himself. And if I do forget someones grits, or my timing gets off and I don't get back to the table for a refill or dessert offer, I beat myself up. I know I shouldn't but I cant seem to help it. I want so bad to be good at something.. and this is what I have. To see a five dollar bill or more.. means that I have exceeded expectation.



Working is good for me. It keeps me distracted. I forget the sadness in my heart, missing Vicki.. quiets for a little while and I go into this auto pilot mode of people pleasing. Waitressing  is perfect for someone like me. I also have to be on constant lookout for people who are up to no good. I love nice people but sometimes their niceness is a front for ill intentions. Heart armor is just as important for me to put on as my apron.



I often worry about my worth as a person. I am a thirty year old waitress.. that's not all I desire to be. I want to do more with my life.. I just don't know what, when or how. I am a momma to two children.. that's the most important job.. but I don't think I do that well enough. Some days I don't even see my kids for very long because of school and my work hours. I just hope they know that they are the reasons I get up and get out there. I would like to trade my black W.H apron for a flowery, ruffled one. I would like to see myself standing in a bright kitchen baking up some delicious organic muffins. Or pulling home grown veggies out of my own garden with the help of my worm loving side kick "Mini-me".


Its good to have dreams.

Bag of Bricks

Over my shoulder

Weighing me down

Breathing is harder

When your pressed to the ground.


Like a beast sitting on top of my breast

Growling and taunting me- how to find rest?

I take my pills to chase him away..

But my dark passenger follows me

He knows where I lay..


I drink down the tears that fall in my glass

He keeps record of my wrongs that fill up my past.

I try to take hope in the love I've been shown

But that dark passenger will not leave me alone.


Depression is his name, and he is loyal to me

Right with me, he walks, through my days endlessly.

So heavy... I try to just lift my head

Some days, I do well to get out of bed.

I count down the minutes that should be counted for joy

Shared with my family, my girl and my boy.


I can't look out too far, for it is too much to see

So I focus on the minutes, the next two or three

Then If I make it, I will set a new goal,

A small victory won, till I can regain some control


This is how it has been for so long, I hear the clock tick...

The alarm sounds, another day... to carry my bag of bricks.

THAT mom.

OK seriously,  autism is making me crazy. Yesterday at the library, I decided to collect some math and writing books for Timmy, so we could sit down together like normal people and do some school work. We began enthusiastically, well I was.. and I bribed my son with some time playing Angry Birds if he would sit down and do school work with me. He agreed to do one page, for Bird time. I took it.  So we started with some subtraction, which he knows how to do, but only if the numbers are in the proper format that he is used to. These were different.  These were like 88-n = 44.

No matter what I said or did to explain that the n was just a missing number.. he protested, argued, got louder, threw all materials on the floor, and finally flopped out on the floor screaming.  This kind of behavior from your child can be a bit embarrassing if your child is two. It is flippin' mortifying when your child is nine. Everyone, I mean everyone was looking at us. I tried to focus just on my son, and how to best handle my obvious lack of parental control.  I tried scooping his dead weight off the floor with epic fail. He was kicking and punching me every time I would touch him.  I said " Timmy, you need to get up and lower your voice" He screamed back NO! GET OFF ME!! ITS A N!!! THAT'S NOT MATH!! I WANNA BE DONE!!  "If you want angry bird time, you need to get quite" Then it was just more screams and odd sounds and kicking of the table.

 I started to panic.. I looked around at some pretty ugly faces of moms watching the show. I wanted to punch them!! I REALLY wanted to go up to them and scream at them for watching with their judging eyes next to their perfect children. I felt wild and violent inside! 

 I hid my inner crazy as I tried to stay composed. Eventually we did get him out, but after about twenty minutes of being on spectacle. I wish I could say that I have gotten used to the stares and glares. I haven't  I keep hoping that one day that he will act right and not embarrass me in public anymore. He was remorseful later in the car, and tried to beg for mercies when we informed him of the consequences of his actions. No TV or games. I will not stop correcting him. He is not dumb. I know what he can and can't understand.    

  

I just hope as awareness continues, people will stop being asses and maybe offer a look of understanding instead.  I don't want to be arrested for assault!

Down the road

I am being carried away.. I am not a free agent but a reluctant passenger. A worried hitchhiker on the highway to hell. My bags are heavy, I don't have enough room for all this shit. I need to find a place to rest and warm my hands. I keep looking over my shoulder with longing. What am I leaving behind? Is it worth the return? If I leave will there be any coming back? Will it look like it did when I left the city lights? My compass is not giving me any reading.  Carry me gently, cold bitter wind.  Please let a brighter day find my face.