We were those parents...

who had their small child out way past his bedtime...at a huge concert...that was really loud...singing along to...

Taylor Swift!

but let's back it up there before you go saying how children should be in bed and a 3 year old has no business being at a concert.

You see, they go way back. Well, not way back. Maybe just to Portobello Road on a Saturday afternoon.

After Brooke and I snapped a picture with her, Wil and Wiley came so I could get Wiley's picture with her. Wiley loves Taylor Swift. He just started singing her songs in the car this spring and summer, particularly "You Belong to Me." While you can't exactly tell what he is saying, you do hear the words "short skirts" and "t-shirts." (I am that mom who doesn't really have many kids CDs. We like to stick to our country songs, classic oldies, and maybe a little Usher.)

When Wiley came up to her, he said "Hi Taylor Swift. I love your songs."

I think they are discussing music, lyrics, how Wiley would never be like the mean guys she writes about in her songs...you know, the usual.

She asked if she could hold him and of course we said yes!

And while he was too shy to sing one to her...

he was not too shy to give her a kiss.

So. We have had our little 15 minutes of fame. The paparazzi were all around her and snapping pictures. Her bodyguard (wearing a UVA hat) thought Wiley was cute and was actually the one who got Taylor to turn around. After she walked away, a photographer who did not get a good shot I guess asked me if I would send him my pictures. I asked why, and he said "I'll get your kid in a magazine next week in America." "What?" "Yeah, People magazine. He'll be the most popular kid." "Um, I don't think we want him to be in People magazine, but thanks." (Confused look from photographer).

And as if it could not get any more exciting...

Her mom comes back to Wil. Yes. And says that Taylor would love for Wiley to be at the concert on Monday night. Did we have tickets? No. Did we have any plans? Um. Definitely not. How many people will be in Wiley's entourage? 6. So e-mails were given and phone numbers. And Wil continued to joke for the next day about how Taylor really just wanted to go on a date with him.

We hear back from the tour manager that they have 2 tickets, which we ask nicely if they could do 6. And they did. And boy did they come through!

We were sitting on the first row of the side seats, right by the stage. Wiley was able to wave to the guitarist in the band, wave to Taylor, dance in front of us, and lay down on the floor when he was getting tired at the end. The screaming pre-teen girls really left all of our ears ringing. Wil and I felt old when we had to ask who the opening act Justin Bieber was to some young Brits (Who is this? Who? Oh. Is he American?) who assured us that he was relatively new, making us feel a little better.

But that concert. Girl left it all on stage. She rocked that place. She literally gave it everything and I can only imagine that she probably just collapsed at the end of the show. I don't think I have seen that much Girl Power since the Spice Girls. And after seeing T.Swift, I think the Spice Girls version of Girl Power is totally watered down. Plus she doesn't run around in revealing outfits that the 11, 12, 13 year olds who love her would then try to emulate.

And talented? Oh, yes she is.

We had a mild breakdown at the end because Wiley was upset he didn't get to "say goodnight to Taylor Swift." I am pretty sure he thinks she is just another one of his friends, so why wouldn't he be able to give her another hug and say goodbye?

So there it is. We had a wonderful time. Wiley has gone to his first concert. I could go on and on about how great I think Taylor Swift is. But I'll stop here. Hopefully this all fills in the stories and pictures we have been sending yall the past few days!

{pictures from Zimbio and PacificCoastNews.com}

Dear Country Music,

As I listen to my all time favorite Brad Paisley, I realize suddenly that I am listening to country music! I have returned to it from a stage filled with Jack Johnson/chill/type music (except for the two times I have gone running, and that was filled with Rhianna and other rap stars.) Yes, I have returned. My last encounter with country music was as I was unpacking in my new flat and wanted to cry because I longed for all that country music sings about. I shut you out of my life for a bit, but honey, I have returned. And with an ode, to boot! (I have gotten a lot done on my to-do list, so my reward was to write this ode, as silly as it may be!)

Dear Country Music:

We were both young when I first heard you. I was litty bitty listening to you on the radio buying Alan Jackson’s greatest hits, jamming out and pretending to be way down yonder on the Chattahochee. Dancing to Tim McGraw with best friends, barbecue stains on our [monogrammed] white t-shirts, yeh something like that. Our fun continued, from the classics to the nasal-y Rascal Flatts where we dreamed of fast cars and freedom. Life moved on from sweet home Alabama to North Carolina and then…

My husband said “Let’s move to London. I’ll be the prince and you be the princess…baby just say yes!” I said, “I was born country, there is no way! This is where I want to raise my kid, just like my mom and daddy did.” But alas I’d a had to miss the dance and didn’t want to be standing outside the fire, missing out on a once in a life opportunity. So country radio I did leave.

Unpacking my bags with sirens and car horns blaring, I longed for a small town Saturday night. Some here say I might have my lipstick on a little too bright. And I’ll substantiate the rumor that the English sense of humor is drier than the Texas sand. I missed the friendliest people […] you’ve ever seen. And well it is cold over here, and I swear, I wish they’d turn the heat on. I shut you out country music, and turned to moody John Mayer. And then one day, when the sky is blue, I returned. And I’m going to love you, like nobody loves you. Oh, country music, You know I love my chicken fried, cold beer on a Friday night, a pair of jeans that fit just right, and the [country] radio up. But for now I will learn to love my meat pies, dark, warm lager at noon on a Wednesday, and a pair of Wellies that keep me dry, and my iTunes turned up to my dear friends Tim, Kenny, Brad, Keith, Taylor, Johnny, et al.

xoxo,

wakeforestmama

PS: I can't figure out how to share this song with you but check out Jerry Jeff Walker's London Homesick Blues for a fun, hilarious country song about, you guessed it, London!

....

the most "country" picture of me i could find. also the worst picture of me. but if you made it this far on this post, i guess you can see it!