Good news for Dale Jr fans...

Dear Dale Jr. Fans -

On Monday morning before last (the Monday BEFORE the Daytona 500), I stopped at the store for gas.  I got gas, got breakfast for me and Aubree, a couple of drinks, a pack of gum… and my total was $88.88.  My first thought –

Yay!  Maybe this is a sign that Dale Jr. will win this week. 

Unless you live under a rock, you’ve undoubtedly heard that Dale Jr. DID INDEED win the Daytona 500.

This past Monday morning (the Monday AFTER the Daytona 500), I dropped  Aubree off at daycare and picked up the receipt that shows my balance or credit at daycare.  Folks, I had a credit of $88.  

BAM.  

Let me just put it out there... Dale Jr. WILL win this weekend at Phoenix.

You’re welcome.

I Heart My Community

Back in August, DHR placed a 16-year-old girl and her 4-month-old baby with us.  It was supposed to be for a day, but then it got extended for a week.  After a week, things were going well and we agreed to be their permanent foster home.  Ultimately, they were with us until last Friday, before moving back home. 

(I can’t use their names because of DHR rules, so that’s why I refer to them as “the girl” and “the baby”.  I’m not trying to sound detached, it’s just a rule.)

The girl had not been in school in a couple of years and when DHR told her she had to enroll at Danville, she was NOT excited.  She assumed she’d stand out as the new girl and be shunned because she has a baby.  Well, she was right about part of it.  She stood out, alright.  The teachers all took her under their wings… the kids included her like she had always been there.  She went into school that first day expecting to have to fight anyone who made an ugly comment about her being a teen mom.  Instead, they asked to see baby pictures and couldn’t wait for her to bring him to the school to visit.  She went to volleyball games, football games, basketball games… I remember looking down at her during a volleyball game and seeing her cheering as loud as anybody in the whole gym. 

The first Sunday I told her she had to go to church with us, she wasn’t too happy about that either.  Again, she expected to be looked down upon and she told me right away that she didn’t want to leave her baby in the nursery with strangers.  It didn’t take long for her to see that those strangers treated her baby like a prized possession. She was prayed for more than she can even imagine, and the ladies at church even bought diapers for me to send back home with her so she didn’t have to worry about buying them.

When I told her I needed the baby to go to daycare a couple of days a week with Aubree while I worked, she nearly freaked.  She was adamantly opposed to daycare.  Now, after 5 months, she wishes she could keep him going to Sheila’s Daycare because it’s so obvious how much they love him.  Miss Sheila couldn’t even talk about him leaving foster care and going back home without tearing up. 

I know the past 5 months were not easy for this young girl.  She was forced to adjust to a different way of life.  A lot of teens would have rebelled against all our rules, but not her.  She loves her baby and she knew the best thing she could do for him was make the best of this situation.  It turned out good for her, but a lot of that is because she felt so accepted here.

So, to my friends … to the teachers at Danville… the folks at Danville Baptist… the daycare workers at Sheila’s…. THANK YOU!  You made a difference in the lives of two special people.  You helped make a good experience out of something that could have been really, really bad. What could have been the longest 5 months of their lives (and mine!) resulted in a beautiful thing.  They’re bonded to us now.  They’ll always have a connection to our family and to our community. 

I’ve always been proud to be from my hometown of Danville, Alabama, but never more than now.

My Secret To Staying Warm....

There is no one in the whole world who hates cold weather more than me.  Seriously.  It makes me miserable and angry. 

It is currently 10 degrees outside in ALABAMA and I'm feeling just fine.  I feel like I need to share my secret with you because I know many of you share my hatred of the coldness. 

Here goes...

I haven't had a hormone pill in 4 days.  And ladies, my inner solar source is cranked up.  There is nothing to make you toasty like a good 'ol fashioned hot flash.  Miss 4 pills in a row... it's like perpetual warmth. 

The problem is, the amount of estrogen in my body closely correlates with the amount of niceness in my body. 

Soooo...

My mood? Eh.

My patience level? Relatively low.

My marital status? A little shaky.  He says he's going to melt the pills down and inject me in my sleep.

But I'm warm.  I'm so warm.

 

Goodbye 2013!

As 2013 comes to an end, I started to think about a few observations I made over the year.

·        My mom has always said, “Don’t buy me gifts… if y’all are all together, that’s all I want.” I would think… bologna… but it hit me this year that that’s the truth.  Every year could potentially be the last year that my kids all wake up in my house and have Christmas morning together, and that makes me sad.  I just want us all to be together… even if it means kids are piled here and there and everywhere.

 

·        No matter how often I say, “I HATE WALMART”, I still find myself wandering around in there and complaining about it at least once a week.  I swear they must pump in some kind of hypnotic gas through the vents that makes us forget how much we hate it.

 

·        Leggings are not pants.  They’re just not, y’all.  The End.

 

·        Whatever medical disorder makes it impossible to stay awake past 10 p.m. is what I have. 

 

·        Pretty on the outside does not always mean pretty on the inside.  Some of the ugliest people I know are quite attractive to look at.

 

·        Magic Erasers are truly magic.  If your children ever write on your wood kitchen table with a SHARPIE (I mean, hypothetically , since my precious angel children would never do that!), a Magic Eraser will take it right off.  Amazing. Hypothetically, that is.

 

·        The people who claim to “hate drama” seem to always be the ones right in the middle of it.  If you have to profess your hatred for drama, then you probably don’t hate it at all. 

 

·        With all the non-traditional Christmas meals these days, I didn’t get to eat ham or turkey.  So now I’m wondering if nobody eats ham/turkey anymore, it is still considered traditional? In any event, I need some turkey.  Can someone help me out, please?

 

 

·        And finally…. Two statements that I’m trying to make my motto, even though sometimes I think I’m crazy….

NEVER SAY NEVER.

WHY SAY NO WHEN YOU CAN SAY YES.

 

I hope you all had a great 2013 and I hope 2014 is even better.

Roll Tide.

 

How I accidentally became a Lee Greenwood fan...

If you know me, you know I'm a Lee Greenwood fan and I'm soooo excited about his Christmas concert this Friday in Huntsville.  I am about to tell the story of how I accidentally became a fan. 

Back in 1983 or 1984¸ me and my best friend, also named Amy, begrudging went to a concert with her parents…having already decided that it would be full of old, boring people listening to old, boring music.  At the time, I was more into stuff like Michael Jackson.  Look, I was 14 and I needed to be cool... 

I don’t remember who I sat by or what we ate for supper.  I just remember when Lee Greenwood came out…

SHA-ZAM!!!

OMG.  That voice.  I was mesmerized and had never heard a voice quite like his.  For the next several years, I went to every Lee Greenwood concert that I could get to.  I must have seen him in concert at least a dozen times in the next 4 years.  I literally slept on sidewalks outside of concert venues to get front row tickets. (For you young whippersnappers, this was before the internet).  

In June of 1990, three weeks before my wedding, I won a contest on a radio station and got to spend the day at Opryland, including lunch with Lee and a concert afterwards.  I won the contest by writing a letter telling them WHY they should pick me.  I spent hours on it and ended up with an 8-page letter written in 5 different colors of ink.  Looking back, that was probably the first time anyone eluded to the fact that I might be a tad bit obsessed.  Haha.  They had no idea!

I almost didn't post pictures because it's so bad, y'all.  So bad.  No comments on hairstyle, please.  But here I am with Lee in 1990.  

A couple of years later, ON MY BIRTHDAY even, I got to meet him again.  Best birthday present ever.  

Over the next 20 years, I was still a fan but my opportunities to see Lee in concert were limited.  A couple of years ago, he came to Huntsville for some kind of benefit concert and it was hysterical how many people contacted me about tickets.  People were blowing up my phone and my Facebook with "Did you know Lee Greenwood is coming to town??" messages.  I ended up going with my three sister-in-laws and we had a blast.  I added one of his band members on Facebook and he was able to arrange a meeting for me. I got to meet him for a quick picture (which did not save on my phone...thank you, technology).  

I did KINDA get a picture of me and Lee, I guess.  Does this one count? Someone pointed out that he is cutting his eyes down at me like he's thinking, "There's that crazy chick again".  I prefer to think that it's more like, "I love her. She's such a big fan.  I wish all my fans were as great as her".  But you know, whatever.  Choose to believe whatever you want.  

And then last year, I went to Tunica and saw him there.  I was hoping for a another picture opportunity.  Unfortunately, that same band member was apparently a little freaked out by my stalker traits, craziness, intensity (yeah, intensity is a good word) and BLOCKED ME on Facebook.  Oops.  I'm pretty sure if there's a "watch list" for obnoxious Lee fans, then I'm on it.  

So, now I just listen to Lee when I can, watch for any potential upcoming sightings concerts, and follow him on Facebook and Twitter.  

So, there it is.  I'm just a normal (okay, somewhat normal) 43-year-old, married, mom of 6, who has a strange fascination with Lee Greenwood.  

When I heard about the concert this week, I arranged my schedule so that I had nothing going on the day of the pre-sale except getting tickets.  I got online at exactly 10:00 but only managed to get 3rd row.  I guess front row went to sponsors? I know, I know... 3rd row is awesome if you're an average fan.  But when you're THE BIGGEST FAN EVER, only front and center is acceptable.  I'm going to carry a pocket of money and try to buy out front row person for sure.  

Now, I need some reader participation... Can you all send positive thoughts my way? The following two things are very important:

(1) I need all my kids to be healthy on Friday.  If anybody is puking or running a fever, I'm going to be SO MAD.  

(2) I also need a Meet-n-Greet pass so I can get an updated picture of us.  If you've got connections to WDRM or WAAY-TV and can get me a pass, I would be your best friend forever.  

 

Christmas Play Costume...Gone Terribly Wrong

Yuri and Gigi are in our church Christmas program tonight.  They are supposed to be horses.  The directors of the play told me not to worry too much about a costume... "we are thinking a brown sweatsuit will be fine"... sounds easy enough. 

Um no.  I couldn't find a brown sweatsuit anywhere.  So, I improvised and got black ones.  I mean, there ARE black horses, right? 

Let me take a moment to explain something.  When God handed out talents, he must've skipped me and planned to come back later.  I promise you that I am the LEAST talented person you'll ever encounter.  On a crafty scale of 1 to 10, I'm a minus 4.  For real.  So, when I started thinking about this horse costume, the only thing I could come up with was pinning some yarn to the butt of the pants to make a tail. I went to buy black yarn, but then I realized that if the sweatsuit was solid black and the yarn was black, then the tail wouldn't really show up.  So, I bought this cool yarn that is tri-colored.  It has a mixture of black, gray, and white. 

The result?

You be the judge...

 

 



 



All because of my epic fail in the craft department, my children will forever be remembered as the Christmas SKUNKS.

Soooo.... the program is in 3 hours.  If anyone wants to whip us up two cute horse costumes, that'd be awesome. 

Goodbye, Brian...

As I stood at the funeral home last night watching hundreds and hundreds of people waiting hours to pay their last respects, I was simply overwhelmed.  His elementary school teachers were there.  His former high school coaches were there.  His childhood best friends were there.  His hunting buddies were there.  His cousins.  His co-workers.  His aunts and uncles. His parents.  His siblings. His wife. His three sons.  That’s a lot of people. But that’s not all.  His children’s teachers and coaches came.  His son’s best friends came.  People from church came.  His wife’s childhood friends came.  And all her family came.  And her customers came.  And then people came who maybe didn’t even know Brian very well, but they knew his parents.  Their co-workers came.  Maybe some hadn’t seen or spoken with them in years, but they came.  Everybody came because in some way, shape, or form, Brian had an impact on their lives.  When they heard the news, they just came.   

We all have a Brian story.  Here’s mine –

I am 4 years older than Brian.  My family lived on one side of Ma (our grandmother) and Brian’s family lived on the other.  Ma’s house was our childhood playground.  We spent our summers playing in her yard.  Brian was a farmer from birth.  I remember him wearing jean and boots when it was 100 degrees outside. He rarely ever wore shorts, and when he did, he still had his boots on.  I was the oldest of the cousins that lived on County Line Road and I was the bossiest.  I would want to play something like grocery store or insurance office, and Brian would never go along with it.  He always wanted to dig in the dirt.  We used to play “Lang’s Sporting Goods”.  Our cousin, Jamey, was Mr. Lang and I was the Vice President.  I would use the foot pedal on Ma’s sewing machine as my intercom and bark out orders.  Lisa and Brian were thick as thieves and always had to be given the same assignments or they wouldn’t play.  Since they hated playing inside, I would give them “jobs” outside.  They were supposed to pretend they were driving to Decatur to sell uniforms or helmets, but instead I’d find them pushing tractors around the yard.  It was very frustrating, let me tell you.  I was trying to run a business and they never would cooperate.  One summer Ma let us convert an old cotton wagon into our playhouse.  We set up house in there with old furniture and blankets.  She put a tarp on the top to keep everything dry.  I was the mama and I kept the little kids (Cara, Leah, and Marla), while Lisa and Brian went out to “work” in the fields.

I remember one time when me and Lisa and Brian decided to strip down to our underwear and cover our bodies with mud.  It was lots and lots of fun until my mom found us and freaked out.  It’s just mud, right?  Yes, that’s true, but when you use well water and the well is DRY… it’s a problem.  Just to prove I’m not exaggerating…

Amy, Lisa, and Brian - 1978(ish)

I tried to find a picture with all the cousins, but I couldn’t. This one has 11 of the 13 pictured. 

Kurt, Tina, Craig, Leah, Brian, Cara, Marla, Tammy, Amy, Lisa, Keith (not pictured: Alan and Jamey)

As far back as I can remember, Brian called me “Ramey Ren”.  Like Amy Lynn, but with the R sound.  I have no idea why.  Maybe it came from Scooby Doo or something– I never really thought about why – but that’s my last memory.  I was coming out of the store and he was walking in.  He gave me his famous grin and said, “Heyyy Ramey Ren” just like he always did. 

I love you, Brian.  I hope they have tractors and dirt in Heaven.