Wake Forest Mama Goes to...

Alabama!

We have arrived back to Sweet Home Alabama and are finally recovering from jet lag. Our last couple of weeks in London were a whirlwind with Wiley's birthday party (pictures to come), packing (in suitcases only), and saying goodbye to some really special and sweet friends. I want to share about all this and selfishly just get it down in writing so I don't forget. There are a lot of emotions going on about the move, and I expect that they will all settle down once I have settled in with my little family in our new house. So, if it takes me a little bit, please hang in there (the five of you who read this), I'm in Athens for my little sister's graduation (yay!) and then orchestrating a move into a real house for the first time. In between unpacking boxes, if I can find the way out, I'll hopefully be able to share about our last happenings in London. That last month was pretty magical.

Sweet Home Alabama

...We're coming home to you.

Please keep the State of Alabama and those affected by the storms across the South this past week in your prayers.

Sorry, Birmingham.

I'm pretty sure the rain followed us from London. I think y'all need it, but nonetheless, it rained about 3 days straight over there right before we came over here, and I'm kinda really ready to have some warm sun on my face. Or hot sun.

Not to mention, our English friend we brought home with us is not going to believe us that the weather here is better than London's if this mess keeps up. So, rain: cut it out.

Uh-mer-i-cuh

Let's do a quick re-cap of our "holiday" back in the States. In no particular order and only because this is just about all of the pictures I took for an entire almost 4 weeks, may I present "Uh-mer-i-cuh 2k10"

While celebrating Sam and Amanda's wedding in Virginia, we had a tour of the Slemp's dairy farm. Below you will find a group (herd?) of preggo cows. I think some of us can relate to how they feel.

We went to the zoo with Helen. When a Larakeet landed on Wiley's hat and he flipped out, it might have been the funniest thing I've seen in awhile, but also possibly traumatic to Wiley. Oops, there goes "mother of the year" award. It sort of attached itself to his hat while Wiley tried to beat at it, screaming "Get it off. Get it off!" Meanwhile, the zookeeper frantically saved the bird from 4 year old fists. I wished I could have pulled my camera out faster.

We lounged by the pool before Wil had to return to London. So wonderful.

We went to the lake with "just grownups" and the dogs (not ours). Don't you pose your (friends') dogs in chairs when you go to the lake by yourselves (read: without kids)? Digger and Harvey looked regal, of course.

We watched Sam and Amanda (And Tommy and Chelsea) get married (not together). We also witnessed the world's largest bonfire that is not in Texas (A&M?).

Wiley took a picture of us feasting at Zoes. Heavenly.

We watched Aunt B learn to drive stick shift on the snazzy MGB.

Wiley rode his new-to-him bicycle with training wheels including his name on the back on an Alabama license plate in the CBS parking lot...only a few yards from where I learned to ride a bike without training wheels and nearly ran straight into a soccer goal (the metal part). Thanks Baba and Big Dean (for the bike; oh and I suppose not letting me bust into the metal pole?)

Mmm...watermelon at the lake. This boy could eat an entire one if we let him. Oh, wait, we did. And he is so possessive of his watermelon that when I tried to do a cool science experiment called "does the watermelon float or sink?" he flipped out, and my mom deemed it less scientific and more traumatic.

And on another un-related note, and only because I don't think this can be a post in itself, or maybe it can? We have a paddling pool in our back "garden." Yesterday, Wiley discovered it is full of tadpoles. I'm pretty sure they are tadpoles. So when we have a pool full of frogs, you know where you can come get a pet. I'm slightly grossed out but have decided for the sake of science and because I have a boy who likes gross things, we will keep the tadpoles for a bit and see what happens. The boy also found a snail, loved watching him crawl slowly, fed him a leaf, marveled at him, named him "Georgia Bulldawg," noted the slime left behind, and then stepped on him while watering a plant. RIP Georgia Bulldawg.

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!

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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!