This post was written especially for Jen Schneider over at livlaughlove.com. You can follow her on Facebook too.

Come on…you KNEW I couldn’t let this one die.

Yes, it’s four-day old news. And, yeah, I’m betting the majority of you have already seen the video(s) by now.

But if you’ve been living under a rock and don’t have a clue about what I’m referring to when I say “possessed Alabama mom pounding a cocky Oklahoma bro”…allow me to do the honors and set the scene.

The Crimson Tide faced the Oklahoma Sooners in this year’s NCAA college football Sugar Bowl on January 2. OU ended up winning that game 45-31.

I didn’t see a single play of that match-up. But I’ve watched the bleacher highlight reel more times than I can count. And, let me go on record by saying this: Don’t mess with an Alabama momma bear or her cub and then be taken aback when she tries to maul you.

At some point during the game, trash-talking between the two teams’ respective fan bases went from “our team’s better than your team” to rage-induced “I-will-kill-you-in-your-sleep” madness.

Lucky for us, the footage was all captured on camera.

Then someone released this parody:

And my personal favorite:

According to Yellowhammer, the mom shown in the video – Michelle Prichett – had this to say about the incident.

“Everyone’s making me look like such a bad guy,” she said. “What I did was probably not the thing to do. But they were taunting us. They began by going after me. But then they crossed the line and started taunting my 16-year-old son.”

She also went on record saying she was not intoxicated.

WHAT?! THIS CHICK ACTED LIKE THIS STONE COLD SOBER?!!

I’ll try keep my thoughts brief.

Was she out of control? Yes.

Did she likely do some damage to the reputation of Alabama football faithful? I’d say yes to that too.

Is her family embarrassed? I would imagine so.

But I’m going to be honest. There’s only one thing that gets my blood pumping more than a mom in bedazzled jeans barking like a ravenous dog…and that’s a bunch of drunk college boys who think it’s fun to talk trash about how awesome THEY are. And, by THEY, I am referring to the team of athletes they worship.

I do not condone her behavior. She gives all of us moms a bad rap by mere affiliation. But part of me laughs every time I see the little guy in the white shirt and faded maroon jeans duck for cover when he realizes shit’s about to get real.

I honestly hope I am never involved in an altercation like this. I love my kids deeply and I’d have a serious issue with anyone who goes after them. But they need to fight their own battles.

However, I’d like to make it perfectly clear that, if I’m ever caught on tape going completely ballistic, please overlay Welcome to the Jungle onto my fight footage.

Written by Heidi Woodard

I’m here to conquer you, New Year. You should know this about me…I’m not, and have never been, deficient in the confidence department.

But I’m a realist too. And, realistically speaking, I know I represent false hope. Because today I am shouting from the mountain top.

Where will I be in 30 days, 6 months, 1 year from today?

I signed up to run my fourth Half Marathon on May 4, which as my Facebook friends should know by now, means they need to decide if they want to unfriend me. I’m going to publicly share how I’ve either met my training goals or failed miserably. Consider yourself forewarned.

I’ve committed to giving up pop for the next 30 days. Or, as I like to call it, my happy juice. I’m in the process of developing coping strategies that don’t involve the beheading of my spouse or getting fired from my job.

I got on the treadmill and logged a very slow and steady 3.5 miles this morning. It felt good. It always does before you allow the soreness to soak in.

I’ve committed to attending a kickboxing class on Friday. I figure I’ll have a lot of pent-up rage from seeing everyone around me drinking pop by then. My imaginary sparring partner won’t stand a chance against me. I’ll actually likely envision the 20-year old version of myself with her flat stomach and ability to eat anything without regret staring back at me. She’s going down.

Finally, I’ve vowed to read more as part of The Empty Shelf Challenge.

Yep, that seems to be enough crap to concentrate on for now.

Good luck to everyone with all your many resolutions. Let’s remember that, at the end of the day, we’re all pretty awesome as is.

New Year. Same ol me.

New Year. Same ol me.

Written by Heidi Woodard

Boy have Christmas breaks changed over the years.

When I was in college, unlike some people (I’m talking to you, Ryan Woodard), taking time off from school never involved a drunkin escapade to Cabo. Rather, I’d travel with my softball team to play in a tournament someplace sunny.

I always seemed to come down with strep throat…a fate that followed me every year as the seasons changed until I had my tonsils yanked out when I turned 30.

The first year I entered the real world with a full-time corporate job post-college, it dawned on me that grownups don’t get Christmas breaks or Spring breaks or any other rejuvenation periods built into their calendar year. Grownups get Paid Time Off (PTO) based on their years of service. And, for some odd reason, there are people who bank their PTO as a badge of honor – refusing to take a single day off unless they’re on their death bed.

I’ve never understood those people.

And, by not understanding certain things I observe in others, I’ve come to better understand myself.

I’ve learned a lot throughout the past year.

1. I relate to what the author of Hands Free Mama has to say. I see my life as over-scheduled and over-committed and when I try to balance it all and fall short of my own self-imposed expectations, I implode on myself and explode on others. This kind of behavior is avoidable…with proper perspective.

2. I need motivation to stay fit. While I’ve grown in all other aspects of my professional life by working at a new company, I lost a support group of fitness friends when I left my former one. Time for me to kick my own butt back into action. I don’t like being squishy.

3. There will never be a greater source of satisfaction in my life as my kids. Roll your eyes if you want (I don’t blame you), but it’s the truth. They have this crazy way of making life seem as meaningful and memorable as it should be.

4. There will never be a greater source of frustration in my life as my kids. My middle one broke his left arm on my third day at the new job a year ago, and then broke his right arm on my birthday this year. My youngest has had “poop farts” (her own words for diarrhea) all day today as we head into the holidays. Hooray! My oldest came upstairs for a 25-minute lunch break before declaring to the world that he was descending back down to the MAN CAVE. Because he’s a (soon to be 12-year old) MAN.

5. I feel like I’m a fairly laid back woman, with the exception of how I relate to my husband – the aforementioned Ryan Woodard. I don’t care that we have the same “we always manage to have it all work out, don’t we?…” conversation every year, shopping 48 hours prior to Christmas is annoyingly irresponsible. He’ll never convince me otherwise.

6. My parents make me laugh. After succumbing to the realization they were among the last dozen or so Americans who don’t own a computer, they allowed me to pick out a laptop for them. Upon opening it, my dad said, “What’s this kind called? An Ass-us?” The brand is Asus. I did not correct him.

Grandma and Grandpa coming to terms with technology

Grandma and Grandpa coming to terms with technology

7. Whenever I’ve doubted whether the stuff I write even makes a difference to anyone but me, I’ll remember that this piece Do not for one moment believe you are all alone connected me to a life-long friend who I’d previously lost touch with for over a decade. In her words, “Reading someone’s writing can affect your day, or, if you’re lucky to read something truly inspirational at just the right time, sometimes affect your entire life for the better.”

8. I will never regret meeting someone new or hearing different perspectives.

9. I also will never regret setting goals…even perceptibly lofty ones. Because even if I only finish 80 percent of what I set out to accomplish, I’m still 80 percent better than what I once was.

10. Anchor Man 2 is worth the price of admission.

I hope you and yours have a wonderful holiday. And that’s not just lip service. Have a WONDERFUL Christmas break.

Written by Heidi Woodard