Author Archives: Tiffany Layne

About Tiffany Layne

This mom blogger has tackled everything from adoption, ADD, ADHD, OCD, ODD, conduct disorder, hives, pimples, curfew violations, and puberty to sweaty armpits, major surgeries, prom nights and letter jackets in addition to becoming a fairy godmother (aka Grandma).

Every Monday Matters

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Every Monday Matters

I picked up this book at a thrift store somewhere- because I liked the title.

Every Monday Matters!

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I L♥VE Lucy ♥

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I L♥VE Lucy ♥

There once was a woman named Lucy Stone. She grew up in Massachusetts with eight brothers and sisters. I’d like to believe living in a house with so many kids taught her that women and men are equals.

Her parents took on abolition.

Lucy was smart, driven, and a rebel in her own right.

At 16 years old, she went against her parents wishes. Did she run off and get married?

No.

Did she hide behind the shed and smoke a little weed?

Again, no.

So it wasn’t sex, it wasn’t drugs, and rock and roll wasn’t around just yet. Then exactly how did Miss Lucy rebel?

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In the Spirit of Jackass

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In the Spirit of Jackass

Life in a house of mostly boys is far different from life in a house of all girls. Trust me, I know.

I grew up with 5 sisters. We fought over curling irons, hairspray, and mirror time in the morning.

We didn’t plan elaborate gags against each other.

But the tides definitely turned when I became a mom. I blame my mother-in-law.

Seriously, I’m not just being a jerk… It really is her fault. See, I used to shield my children from anything that wasn’t rated G. Then I sent the kids for their first week with their grandparents.

Guess what they watched? Yep… Jackass. So, as the years passed by and our family grew, so did the practical jokes. It’s Johnny Knoxville’s fault. He just had to make a show where everyone is constantly formulating an evil plan.

Once, Tucker gave Trenton some chocolate before school. Trenton gladly ate two pieces.

Unfortunately, they were squares of x-lax. It wasn’t until a few years later that Tucker owned up to his prank, and Trenton finally knew why he spent that day running to the bathroom.

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If You Can’t Play Nice…

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If You Can’t Play Nice…   I saw a hoodie online yesterday that totally reminds me of my son Tucker. It said “if you can’t play nice, play football.” He grinned from ear to ear when I told him about it. Some people think football is life or death, but to my son, it’s even more serious than that. In fact, we just received the wall decal he wants to take center stage on his bedroom wall. It’s a quote. JerryRice It certainly fits my son, because everyday he pushes himself a little harder. This morning he had the battle scars to prove it after the epic game the Tigers played last night.
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This picture doesn’t do those bruises justice.

Report time to the field house was 5:30pm. Read the rest of this entry

Can I Brag?

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Can I Brag?

I know it’s not cool to boast, but every once in a while it’s ok to be proud of ourselves. Today, I’m feeling like I finally accomplished a dream of mine.

When I was a kid, I was a straight A student. I was a band and debate team nerd. I dreamed of going to college and having an incredible career. My step-dad used to joke that I was going to be a professional student because I excelled in school. I think he imagined me getting degree after degree until I had myself a PhD.

I even thought about going Ivy League. I had the grades. But I didn’t have the money I needed and if I’m being brutally honest with myself, I didn’t have the determination to make my dreams a reality.

The 19 year old me was burned out. I was so tired of trying to be the perfect student and the perfect daughter and the perfect sister and the perfect friend that I beat myself up way too much anytime I made a mistake. Read the rest of this entry

So Wonderful

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So Wonderful

My youngest daughter is almost 10 years old. Today she was helping my grandbaby with her morning routine. I listened as KK assisted Presley with washing her hair and brushing her teeth, and then the amazing part happened.

KK let Presley pick out her best Easter dress to wear for the day. Just a regular day. And why not?

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Attack of the Killer Broomstick

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Attack of the Killer Broomstick

Mornings in my zoo are known to be chaotic. Especially lately. I’ve got one kid with a stomach ulcer who feels icky. I’ve got another kid who thinks the words “get up” don’t apply to him until the 9th time. And then I’ve got another one who prances around pretending I’m going to let her out the door in red high heels.

Last I checked, that’s not really 4th grade appropriate. But, I can usually count on the twins to be easy going in the AM.

They typically get out of bed by the second wake-up call. They get dressed with very little fuss and even brush their teeth the first time I say it. However, this morning all bets were off, and nothing went according to plan.

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These Boots

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These Boots

When I look back over my life there are a lot of things I wish I still had. My vintage Atari, because it would fetch a pretty penny on eBay, all the stuff I had in a storage unit when I first got together with my husband, because it was all my “good stuff”, and the jewelry that once disappeared. I was babysitting one night, left my watch with all my rings at the house where I was sitting, and the next morning they offered to leave it in the mailbox for me. By 7:45am it was gone, never to be seen again. My class ring, a few rings my father gave me, and my great-grandmother’s diamond ring were in that collection. I still close my eyes and wish I could somehow find them again. Mainly because I’m a sentimental fool, and I love to collect things. It’s how I hold on to memories.

My Blondie makes fun of me all the time for my “collections.” There are very few things she is sentimental about. But her grandparents gave her this pair of boots for graduation, and ooooh, they were beautiful.

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In fact, she wore them we she took off for Nashville. And she had them on the day she met her beau. And they just sort of morphed into her favorite pair of boots. Read the rest of this entry

If You Were Here

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If you were still here, we’d certainly have plans today.

You’d be 82 now, so I would drive to you and we’d probably eat Mexican food. And you would make jokes about your health and I’d laugh while secretly hoping things aren’t getting too serious in that department.

You’d listen to me ramble on about the kids and when I listed my failures and insecurities, you’d point out my strengths and successes.

The day would go by way too fast and I would choke back the tears when it came time to drive away, if you were here today.

Some people remember you on Father’s day because you were an amazing Dad and grandpa. Others remember you during the holidays because of the soothing way you always read the Christmas story from the Bible. Some people love to think of you at Halloween because of the amazing haunted house you used to create. But me, I think of you on April the 9th.

I wasn’t supposed to be born until May, but I know exactly WHY God brought me early. I was meant to be born on your birthday.

And we shared 27 wonderful birthdays before you went on… But if I’m being honest, you didn’t go away. You’re still here. And I still think of you all the time. And even though I can’t reach out and touch you, I can feel you all around.

I’m so torn between the laughter and the tears, but I know you’d challenge me to laugh. So maybe I’ll have a sopapilla in the name of Birthday Buddies and I’ll tell myself what you would say if you were sitting there across from me today.

Happy birthday Softy. Our day is the one gift I’ll hold forever.

Am I Too Late?

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Somehow this post got stuck in my drafts. I have no idea why it never published, but I owe some of you an update. For those of you who follow my journey from far away, my Tigers won the State Championship! And I’m telling you now, this journey has all the makings of a Hollywood Blockbuster.

It’s the ultimate small town triumph. There’s the plant, closing down, leaving all the families uncertain about the future. And there are the players bound for college ball. One who learned humility and God’s grace. Another came back to Texas to lead the team to victory. His father was quarterback for the Tigers when they won the state championship game in 1976, the last time the Tigers went to state. Then there is the senior who’s father died right before practice was set to begin. His dad was the ultimate athletic booster and so the town raised money in his honor to put up the big VICTORY light at the stadium. Of course, that created our motto for the season- Keep It Lit. And yes, the is proof that a V was painted in the clouds as the Tigers rolled into AT&T Stadium.

Then there’s the coach’s son, who missed being quarterback for his father’s team because of a rare diagnosis of cancer. That’s what inspired our Gold Out games where towns all across Texas joined us in the fight against childhood cancer wearing T’shirts sold to raise money. And in the final play of the game, that boy got to suit up and take the snap in the victory formation. Yes, it’s a Kleenex grabber.

I’m not gonna lie to you. The game got off to a rough start. We were down 21 to 0 when the Tigers decided they’d come way to far to go home without that trophy. I wish I could tell you I was there watching it all unfold. But the game was in Dallas and I didn’t have the money to drive there, pay for parking, and buy enough tickets for all my kids.

A few people offered to take me with them to the game, but as much as I wanted to go, I wasn’t going without my kids. So, we had our own little party. Chips, queso, and Fox Sports.

We clapped and yelled and jumped out of our seats from the comfort of our own living room. We got to see the playbacks and hear the commentary, but we missed out on being part of the crowd.

I was pretty bummed about that, but there was a silver lining. My husband, well, he’s not the football fan I am. He blames it on being a hyperactive little boy who was forced to sit still and watch games with his dad. Maybe it left a bad taste in his mouth. Yet, my husband knows I spend my Friday nights and Saturday mornings watching my boys play ball. And even when it’s not really MY boy, I’m still watching the Tigers play ball. Because that’s me. I love those Friday Night Lights and I think half this kids in this town somehow belong to me. I’m a sucker for rivalry games and Pep Rally bonfires. So when the busses rolled back into town in the middle of the night, my husband drove me to the field to honk and holler and congratulate the kids who played a monumental game. That V is still lit, and despite the hardships going on all around us, Tiger Nation is a good place to be.