HGHS Homecoming RANT


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12043137_10204861079671099_6125897457778342123_nI have had to give myself time to calm down before writing this blog. As proud of all our children, I was the other night, I was also fuming ANGRY. Physically shocked and angry.

Our marching band has been working on their half-time show since July. They put in 2 weeks of 10 hour days in 100 degree temperatures for summer band camp. They put in endless hours throughout the school week. They’re full of school spirit and support their football team; win or lose.

12047065_10204861079311090_5093757364098945741_nI’m not sure who planned the events of the Homecoming game. My daughter is a freshman, so this may be something they have done for all of history. BUT IT IS STUPID. Let me tell you what they do…

Football game starts.

Half-time arrives.

The visiting teams band does a full show. A complete performance.

Our band plays as our Homecoming Court is announced.

The second half of the football game is played. We win. YAY!

The stands empty. EMPTY.

12043137_10204861079671099_6125897457778342123_nThe football team goes to the locker room. The cheerleaders go wherever it is cheerleaders go. All of their parents, grandparents, friends, school mates, all FILE OUT OF THE STADIUM…..



For NO ONE. Except their parents. The only people left in the stadium. Not only that, they have to begin playing AS PEOPLE ARE FILING ….. NO…. FLOODING OUT OF THE STADIUM.


Why? Why would their school do that to them? Why would we watch the opposing teams band at half-time? Why do they get to perform for a full packed stadium of our fans? Why would the administration at Hazel Green High School not OPEN THE FOOTBALL GAME WITH THEIR BANDS PERFORMANCE?


Why would you as parents leave, when you can clearly see…. children… CHILDREN… taking the field… to perform? The band parents were all still there. They all sat and watched your kids play football… or cheer…. or be crowned Queen. We all watched that. But when it came time to see our children perform, you left. You stood up, in front of parents trying to watch the band perform. You had no respect for those students. Clearly the school doesn’t either. The planning of that was awful. It shows lack of concern for your whole band program, Hazel Green.

The football team wasn’t required to watch it and support their “school mates,” that just CHEERED and RALLIED for their for 2.5 hours. The cheerleaders were not required to hang out and watch. To applaud their fellow classmates.

You want unity in school? Then as a school, you have to make all of your extra curricular activities as valued as the next. A student good at the tuba, is just as awesome as a great quarterback.

I was awestruck that these students did not receive the AUDIENCE at their home game that they deserved. Why we would watch Ft Payne perform at our halftime is BEYOND me. Out of time? Why didn’t you open the game with the band. Something. Figure something else out. Because that… was awful. It was rude. It was embarrassing to watch. And as a BAND parent, it was completely UNACCEPTABLE.

Homecoming 2015- A Snap Shot of Life


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homecomingI know that the age old saying is, “Parenting is the most challenging, rewarding… blah blah blah,” thing that you’ll ever do. I know that it’s true because any given day, moment, second… you can go from wanting to strangle a child, to laughing at them, to crying for them, back to fuming angry. They won’t understand. They will stand there looking at you with hate, confusion, annoyance on their faces.

The last 2.5 months in our household have been chaotic, psychotic and well…exhausting to say the least.

homecoming13Faith started 7th grade (middle school here), loaded down with all Advanced Placement classes, hours of homework, and club soccer practices 4 nights a week.

homecoming7Hailey started her freshman year of high school, she’s still playing saxophone and marching as color guard (flag team) in the school band for football games. They practice roughly 5 hours a day.

homecoming8Ryan has moved into his SENIOR year of school. He has delayed enlisted in the Air Force, he will be headed to basic training next August. He spends a huge majority of his days running the drill teams for ROTC, waiting for Hailey to drive them both home, working at Hardee’s part time, and trying desperately to learn Spanish 2.

These kids leave dirty food bowls under their beds. Wet towels on the floors. Lights on, in every room they walk through. They’re snarky. Sassy. Grouchy. Rough around the edges. They NEEEEEEEDDDDDD this. They NEEEEEEEEED that. $30. $75. $650. $200. $1240. $3. When you’re a little late handing it to them, they take it, put it in their bag, look at you like you need a better calendar, or a personal assistant, and they move on. Maybe throwing a thank you over their shoulder.

I respond with, “Could you please…..” and trail off, because they’re already gone. “Never mind,” I whisper as a door slams, somewhere.

homecoming2But then… there’s these moments. These moments of pride. They’re so big, and so full, that when they happen, and my eyes fill up with tears, I just stand there looking at them, bursting inside…. happy.

homecoming9Last night was our high school’s Homecoming football game. Finally, what Hailey had been preparing for since mid July, was going to happen. Two weeks of band camp in July, in 100 degree temperatures, nonstop for 10 hours a day. 4-5 hours a day of practices, Monday, Tuesday, and Thursdays of every week since school started. The football games they had already attended, where they go to school at 7… stay after school, travel to games… get home at 11pm. The show was going to happen.

homecoming11Meanwhile, this grown-up…. looking… beautiful little boy of ours, in full dress uniform is marching across the field. He’s the tallest. The handsomest. He’s shining. Perfect step. Shiney shoes. Crisp, flawless blue uniform. The ROTC presents arms for the Homecoming Court to walk through.

homecoming16Across town, on a soccer field, beneath the lights… our baby is protecting a goal. Full pads, gear… etc. She organizes the field. She keeps the girls together. They love her, they listen to her, they rally for her. If she gets a bad attitude, they lose. She affects them. I’m not even sure that she knows. She will have anywhere from 10-50 goals shot on her tonight. She may miss one. That ONE will haunt her.

Russell and I, went to the football game, unfortunately missing soccer, but watching the score posts from our team parents.

The football game unfolded like a movie. The air was chilly. The lights were twinkling, blinding in spots. The stands were packed. Bands were battling. Both teams were PUMPED UP. This is ALABAMA, ya’ll. Football is LIFE here. We lead the entire game, of course until the end of the 4th quarter. In the last 1:30 of the 4th, the score became a dreaded 14-17. The fans fell silent.

homecoming5The players were hunched over. The student section looked pissy.


You’re not supposed to lose HOMECOMING.

The other team, was PSYCHED!! Their band was dancing. Cheerleaders were taunting. Players were jumping, smacking each other, screaming… they could taste fear, and a win. It was seconds away.

We answered with a 40 yard drive off of our first drive.

The fans were back in it. The clock was moving fast.

20 more.

7 more.

Suddenly we are in the Red Zone. Now, we can’t connect anything. Their defense is amped. Our hands are all shaking. Some of those boys, will never play football again after this season. This is their last, BIG… game.

With 3 seconds left on the clock, the QB can find no one, he runs into the end zone. The stadium erupts. They take the win. The band is roaring. We are cheering… moments.

Captured moments. As I am watching, there are tears in my eyes. Flashbacks to games of blue and gold from my own childhood. My friends around me in the stands. Some of them now passed away. All of them miles, and miles away. I look around me now, at this generation. My daughter, sparkling with pom poms and glitter. My son, his last year at home, his grown-up personality starting to show.

homecoming18I can hear their small feet running across tile, chasing each other through the house. I’m yelling at them. I can hear them giggling in the kitchen playing a board game. I hear the argument, because they’re all 3 competitive and cannot lose. Or be wrong. Or be nice, most times. Then I hear the I love you’s. I can smell the strawberry shampoo of childhood. It hangs in the air, with this winning touchdown. It kaleidoscopes around me in the chilly September air.

homecoming4I wasn’t going to have kids. I wasn’t going to do this. I was going to travel. To see things. But to see all things, in those moments of kaleidoscope color around you, in the smells of life, in the crisp air… is to really be… traveled.

See a Soldier!


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Hey blog followers, I have started a go fund me account to help raise money for me to surprise my active duty brother in Korea. If you’d like to kick in, check it out!!

See a Soldier!

Joke’s on You

I see you laughing at me world. Trying to get me down. Trying to get the win. Kicking while I am down. You think you’re funny, don’t you. See how much I can handle. See if you can keep me from writing. See if you can keep me from telling my story. I know what you’re doing. It’s been working. My inspiration has been lacking. My dance ticket has stayed pegged at salsa in the wrong shoes for too many hours on feet that cannot even begin to spell salsa. What I mean is, I’ve been busy. Too busy to notice that I haven’t been writing. Too busy to notice that days have been trickling by at the speed of the newest Boeing jet.

Not only has time just begun pouring through the hourglass, the tests have been getting harder and harder! Sometimes I find that I skip blogging because I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings, or call them out for the world to see, but that really doesn’t benefit me at all. And afterall, isn’t this blogging business FOR ME? Not only that, let’s be realistic… there are not even that many people still reading this post.

I’m a bad friend. I’ve found that to be true. Hurts to say it outloud, or… in black and white… but it’s true. I am a bad friend. I don’t call as often as I should. I forget birthdays, anniversaries, etc. I have an ability to have a friend for a short amount of time, and then eventually drive her off in some way. Usually by being a selfish ass. It’s in my DNA. Not blaming my parents, just saying that’s how I am wired. I don’t have time for most women, they bug the shit out of me. So that leaves me with 2-5 people that I can really talk to at any given time. I feel lonely a lot. Not a pity party statement, just truth.

I get lost looking at the world. I stare off into the distance a lot. Wondering. Daydreaming. Wishing. Time spent in my cubicle feels like I am serving a sentence. Somehow I nearly forget that they compensate me for doing it, and they compensate me entirely too much. Which is weird. But it makes me come back over and over again.

My kids are all doing good, not good, kind of good, kind of crazy, kind of living…. kind of not. Weird sentence, I know. Let’s start with the baby.

Faith (the athlete) has been developing her soccer skills to new heights. She’s fucking really good at soccer. Good to the point that at tournaments, other team coaches have noticed her. There’s been talk of her moving to the Alabama Elite Team, that would play ball for the state, and travel nationally. This is all good. And fine. Except that this is massive, monufuckingmental time commitment. She’s on A Honor Roll. She wants to play college level soccer, possibly Olympic soccer. She also wants to be a doctor. No small feat in her future. She is a funny kid, smart, and determined. But she also has the attitude that follows big shot athletes. She feels like someone should do the small things for her. Like tie her shoes, carry her bag, make sure she’s under an umbrella. Sometimes I want to punch her in the face. All while being so proud of her for knowing that she’s “got it” that she’s worth it. She won’t ever learn to cook. She won’t ever make a Thanksgiving dinner. She’s that girl. She’s a 2015 woman already. She appreciates the women that burned their bras and fought for the right to vote, and she has shown no signs of slowing down as she continues to want to set records and break the rules wrapped around every sentence that starts with, “girls can’t”. But when you ask her to stop juggling the soccer ball in the kitchen, she rolls a mascaraless bright blue eye at me, and flips a gorgeous blonde ponytail as she turns around, and I find myself shooting her the bird as she walks out of the room. But I love her.

Hailey (the drama queen) is a flawless actress. She’s convincing in all roles. She’s funny, and mesmorizing. But her flair for the dramatic is caught somewhere between Heath Ledger, Brittney Spears, and Marilyn Monroe. She’s beautiful and knows it. She wants you to tell her. She wants everyone to tell her. She wants to be talked about. There is no such thing as bad publicity in Hailey’s mind. If people are talking about her, they’re talking about her. She’s wreckless and consequences be damned. But opposite of her sister, she will stop and help the little old lady cross the street. She will play with the crying baby in the stroller. She would notice someone’s tears. Although she cannot see her own. Her risky behavior is enough to keep me in a forever state of mother’s worry, mixed with nausea. One minute I am laughing with her, then at a funny joke she’s told, then I am laughing delusionally in shock and awe at the insanity of her actions. I think this must be how all crazy/genius people’s family must feel. On the verge of insanity themselves just from watching the daily train wreck.

Ryan (The Czar) is a junior through and through. He was born to be a leader. But right now, he’s learning how. Learning how to lead without being the asshole. Learning to lead by example. Learning to lead while walking the right path. He’s getting it. His maturity seems to have come swooping in all in a quick thunderstorm of bad choices he was making. Bad decision, bad results, bad things said by his dad and me. And just like a flower that was being choked out by weeds, he emerged brighter, more beautiful. His patience is growing… dare I say, I can see that the seeds have taken hold of him.

I don’t know when I am supposed to be blogging anymore. Time seems like a really expensive wine, that  I don’t have the luxury to buy. I can see it up on the shelf, but I keep having to grab the $3 bottle on the bottom shelf, the one that gives a fucking hangover from hell.  I know, I know, these days they pass. The busy ones. I know that. That’s the problem. In like 5 minutes I am going to wake up and be 40…. how the hell do I make the busy stop? Unwind, unravel… without completely unwinding and unraveling? I’m not even sure if I’ve done laundry this month. What month is it? Fuck, I’ve got to go.


What the Fuck World?

Lately, I see things, or hear things… and all I can think is, WTF world? The stupidity, the lameness, the lack of any emotional response at all, is rampant. It’s a fat kid with a big stack of pancakes and two gallons of syrup, artery clogging mess. And we just keep swallowing. And swallowing.

So ISIS has two Japanese kids that they want 200 million dollars for, from Tokyo or they are going to shoot them in the head. In Missouri a 5-year-old just shot his 9 month old little brother in the head with a 22. Paris wants to sue Fox News. Seth Rogan compares American Sniper to Nazi Germany. WTF WORLD?

Walking through the grocery store, listening to kids argue with their parents, watching their parents on the phone… playing games, checking Facebook, doing anything except dealing with that banshee of a child.

Scan through my kid’s friends on their phones and iPods, listen to the stories of high school drugs, sex, and craziness. Kids showing up to class on meth. Teachers and schools have padded the grading scale to the point that failure is damn near impossible. We will just dump these idiot children out into society at 18. Kids that thought they actually did pass school, because they did pull D’s, after their teacher gave them extra credit for the 27th time and forced them to do it. Which by the way, the extra credit assignment was simply signing a piece of paper, worth 200 point test grade.  WTF WORLD??

Entitlement. Oh dear Lord the entitlement. It’s vomit worthy. It’s nauseating.

I can’t stand the thought that tonight is another President Speech. No one cares. What the talking head says never seems to pan out. Change. Togetherness. Blah blah blah. Exhausting. Disgusting. Entitled. Sick of listening. Turn it off. Go play with my kids. Wait for the rapture. Or the zombies. Whatever, whichever. However. WTF world???


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