June 15, 2010


This is something I wrote quite a long time ago… but, it still holds true to this day.

Simply calling it "pain" cannot define the feeling of a heart as the word, in and of itself, describes nothing more than an acutely unpleasant discomfort... simply a word that construes your emotion as nothing more than a mere (albeit overwhelmingly disruptive), annoyance.

The heart is a phenomenon that mere logic cannot rationalize.

It is entwined with a mystifying and vague splendor; delicate and vulnerable to the slightest breeze; small fissures winding through its delicate frame until the effortless and blasé stings, in due course, breach the very core of the heart, shattering and condemning the once brilliant phenomenon into nothing more than a feeble organ - desperate - craving even a token display of compassion and affection.

June 14, 2010

Mommy, is "Odie" a dog???

"Odie" would be my very special furry boyfriend… the best spooner in the world, my sweet, loveable, half Sharpei, half German Shepherd, Humane Society adopted, canine companion! (Odie is a post for another day.) The one asking the question would be my 7-year-old kidlet #7. You see, this is how his oldest three siblings – by oldest three I mean, oldest brother with the loving support of his two cohorts (Kidlets #2 – the worst offender, #3, and #4) love(s) to spend their (HIS) morning(s)… torturing the freckled faced and easily provoked brother with stupid crap so that he will then come and torture me.

Naturally, when Kidlet #7 comes to me for the 5th time in the morning to harangue me with another really stupid question as a result of his brothers’ antagonizing, I eventually holler at the older ones (usually one in particular) for making my morning difficult (in more colorful terminology). That’s when I get the look of “shock and amazement” because they (HE) didn’t actually DO anything!

I’m afraid that, by the time I actually get the hang of this child-rearing thing, the children will all have grown-up and moved away. Of course – having lived in a home with seven children – I’m rather hoping they’ll have the common sense to wait a good long time before having children of their own. Don’t get me wrong – I have no real issues with becoming a grandmother (in the VERY FAR AWAY FUTURE). It’s somewhere in that 20 year plan of mine… I just hope that they will take the time to really LIVE before they get to that point. That way, they have no regrets and are prepared for the complex and ever-changing world of child rearing.

But, in the end – the moments I look forward to most are those ones that happen in the middle of the night – when there’s no one around to see or make a fuss… that moment when the child who always wants to sleep with you (Kidley #7, that 7-year-old that the older boys torture unmercifully), whom you’ve said “no” to sleeping with you over a dozen times – cuz mommies sometimes just need to sleep alone – comes into your room at 3:00 a.m. with a bad dream saying, “Mommy, can I sleep with you for the rest of the night?” There’s that moment you realize – you’re “it” for this kid… He curls up next to you, you curl up next to him, and even though you know you’re not going to get back to sleep – or at least anymore restful sleep – you’re content.

Today – I’m pretty damned content…

June 11, 2010

A word to the wise isn't necessary - it's the stupid ones that need the advice ~ Bill Cosby

Never in a million years did I ever think I would end up back in High School in my mid-30s. I’m a mother of eight children, I have a job, a career in music, and more life experience under my belt than I care to admit. To quote my former father-in-law, “I’ve forgotten more than my children have ever learned.”

Yesterday, I found myself in the rather unique position of being launched unwillingly back into the realm of High School – if not Junior High.

I have this friend here locally who is my age. He’s male. He’s got a great voice, competed in the local West Tennessee Idol and will be starting on a demo CD here at a local studio in the near future. Well, there is this 19 year old girl here who has a “thing” for him.

Now, as most men, I’m sure he appreciates that this young girl thinks so highly of him… and by "appreciate" I mean I mean "thinks it's hot".  And, I use “highly” in the very “loosest” of terms, if you get my drift.

He says she’s “just a friend”… Uh huh. Riiiiight…. A 30-something woman calling a 30-something man "just a friend" is NIGHT AND DAY from a 30-something man calling a 19-year-old child "just a friend."  His reference to her is such a bad joke that a major hit song (a one hit wonder by Biz Markie, “Just a Friend”) was in the Top Ten in 1989.  The mere idea that a man his age and a 19-year-old child could actually BE friends is ludicrous in and of itself.

Then again, I have always said that boys never grow up and maybe they are closer in age mentally than physically - which then presents a whole OTHER realm of issues related to teenagers being interested in nothing north of the belt line. Two people together like that and they’re “just friends”… I repeat, Riiiiight.

To quote another famous song, “If It Makes You Happy!!!!”

Anyway, I sent a late night text to this guy about a karaoke topic and, like all smart phones, it tried to predict what I was typing. Well, my “smart phone” spell predicted and it sent a word other than the word I typed. And, what it sent was so ridiculous and nonsensical that, had a normal, reasonable, and non-psychotic adult received this message, they would have known there MUST have been a typo. Alas, this man was ASLEEP and this “FRIEND” was there – because “just friends” of the opposite sex usually hang out in your bedroom while you’re sleeping at 3 a.m. She took his phone, read my message, and in her immature, stuck in high school, small town, 19-year old, narcissistic mind, decided that the message was about HER. So, she made up in her head whatever elaborate story and basically it came down to me allegedly calling her “uncooked meat”.


God help me, cuz I’m ready to go Puerto Rican on someone here. I hated high school the first time around damnit…

June 10, 2010

A Pretty Pirate I is, says me!

While chatting with my friend, the Almighty and Powerful Spudz, the other day (I prefer to spell his name with a “Z” because he prefers to spell my name with a “Y”… we’re even now), I told him that I was coming up blank as to what to blog about. Should I blog about my volunteer experience? I have been pushing so hard to encourage more volunteers to help flood victims after all. Or, should I blog about something going on in the music scene? I’m about go to back in studio on the 24th of this month. Or, should I blog about my family? With seven children, two grandparents, four dogs, three cats, and a stressed out mama – let’s just say, there’s always something interesting going on (i.e. a tick being found – and announced loudly and obnoxiously – on Kidlet #7’s Tally-wacker aka Penis aka Balls.)

After only a moment of thought from Spudz, he said, “Blog about your eye!” I said, “Seriously?” He said, “Yes.” And, so it is said… so it shall be done.

Last Thursday, around bedtime, I rubbed my eye and somehow managed to get a piece of lint or something jammed up under my contact. After fussing with it and doing everything to try and work it out WITHOUT taking out my contact, I finally succumbed to the pain and took out the contact. By this time, my eye was completely red and inflamed. I looked like I had a raging case of pink-eye. Looking closely, the outline of the contact could clearly be seen in the redness.

I wake up the next morning still miserable, eyelid somewhat swollen, and intense redness. There was a moderate amount of irritation and I could not see anything coherently out of that eye. But, off to work I went.

By 3pm, the pain was searing. I finally carried my butt up to the doctor who walked in and said, “PINK EYE!” I looked at him as though he was insane. You see, country doctors don’t like to actually be doctors and find out the facts. They just come in after reading a half-illiterate nurse’s note, diagnose you without actually talking to you, write a prescription for something totally lame (and usually wrong), and send you on your merry way. Well, by golly, I was NOT going to walk out of there without a solution! Or, at least a referral to a good Ophthalmologist in Nashville.

I got him to stop and listen to me, he checked my eye with some special light, and determined that I had multiple severe corneal abrasions (but he still wrote in my chart that I had Pink Eye – to which I say – DUMBASS). They put some nasty Neosporin like goop in my eye, patched up my eye in a hasty, disheveled, it’s-4:45pm-on-Friday-and-I-want-to-go-home-so-get-this-patient-out-of-here-and-don’t-make-eye-contact-whatever-you-do-because-she-might-ask-a-question-that-I-will-have-to-answer way.

From there I went straight to my hair appointment because, let’s face it, patch or no patch, Mama needed her hairs did!!! They was looking kinda scrappy up in da follicles! I walked in and my wonderful hairdresser Kelli said, “WHAT THE *#@%! DID YOU DO?!” I looked at her and said, “I’m a pretty pirate!” After laughing her ass off, she kindly drove me to the pharmacy to get my Rx’s of Lortab and eye goop, took me back to the salon and did me up purdy. She even painted my toenails while I serenaded her. We always have a good time.

Three hours later I was on my way home, walking into the house, amidst a flurry of “MOMMY! WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!?!” Naturally, it’s always about what I did – never about what someone, something, or some other force did to me. I’m the screw-up. It’s ok. I’m making peace with it.

The next day I had a show. I was singing at a benefit for flood victims and I had a patch on my eye. Pirate Debbie Lee at your service! Aside from the overwhelming desire to pillage and plunder (or more appropriately be pillaged and plundered… a story for another day), I wasn’t about to let anything stop me from performing that benefit. So, I did. Eye patch wouldn’t stay on because it was hot and I was sweating like a… well, like a very hot girl!

End result – after finally obtaining a referral to an ophthalmologist whom I saw on Tuesday, my eye will be OK! My sight is returning, the abrasion is healing, and all is well on this ship for now!

But, c’mon – y’all have to admit – I made a damned pretty pirate! ARGH!


June 6, 2010

LOVE is of God. Deceit is of the devil. Can't expect to have both & be happy.

June 1, 2010

Count your many blessings… name them one by one!

I just got some of the best news ever and I’m so happy that I have decided to take a moment of my time to publicly thank God and count my blessings…

1. Life! I’m so grateful for life… It’s not an easy life all the time (if ever), but it’s my life and having come so close to losing that life not so many months ago, I am grateful to have it.

2. My children. The fact that they massively outnumber me can be overwhelming on any given day (every day), but I’m so grateful for their influence both en masse and individually. I learn something new every day.

3. Music. Everyone who knows me personally and intimately knows how important music is to me. Not just the beautiful melodies, but the words, the heart, the soul… isn’t it amazing how our darkest and most painful moments (and even our most beautiful and happy moments) can become someone else’s favorite song and speak to them in a way that nothing else can???

4. Friends. I don’t have very many. I am a pretty outgoing person, but that deep connection with other people is not something I develop easily. So, to have even just a few people I call friend is so meaningful to me. Without them – well… I would be sad.

5. Love. I have been blessed in this life to have loved and to have been loved. I’ve not always been good to those who love me and I’ve not always been good at loving. But, I like to think that I’ve matured with age and that – maybe one day – that a truly deep and meaningful love from a man, beyond that I have ever known, will be something I will be blessed to experience.

6. Fans.  I'm no one really special musically.  But, I'm different and I am grateful for that.  I don't have a huge fan base (YET), but I do have one and for each and everyone of those fans who are consistently giving me love and encouragement - THANK YOU!  From the very bottom of my heart. 

7.  My JOB.  It's nothing major.  But, I'm grateful for it nevertheless.  Really, I am - even on Mondays. 

8.  My parents.  They have helped me a lot and I'm who I am today because of their influence.  So, for that I must be eternally grateful. 

9.  My dog.  He's just the best.  He's my furry boyfriend and I love him!!!!  He's the best spooner around and no matter what kind of mood I'm in - he loves me unconditionally.  Frederick Odiferous Masticus Swineus Barkius Lickius Gluteous Maximus (aka Odie) is my pal...  And he never tells my secret baked bean recipe.  ;-)

10.  Last, and certainly not lease, my God! What a GREAT GOD HE IS! I’m not perfect and I never will be. I sin more frequently than I care to admit. Thankfully, he is a forgiving God and he has – what I can only assume is – a GREAT sense of humor. Most days I feel like I am his personal comic fodder. But, in the end, I can laugh at myself with Him and I know HE loves me and will not let me perish.

P.S. The awesome news is that the money has come in for the new song!!! And, we will be in studio in short order – so keep your eyes open for the release of Bring it Back Home!