The Cashier position in available.

Remember when Bitchy told me she wanted to switch her major from Chemistry to Nutrition, and I tried to talk her out of it? Well, here’s how today’s conversation went:

Me: “Mrs. D told me Friday that her son went to the career counselors at Oregon State, and not only did they guide him to major he loved, they told him the salaries of the jobs he was interested in. So, before you make any changes, you should check on that. You know, you being a princess and all.”

Bitchy: “Yeah, I think I will. I don’t want ANY job unless it’s at least three digits.”

Thinking for a minute…."Uh, you know, I might only teach kindergarten, but I’m pretty sure that if you’re happy with three digits, you could quit Oregon State right now and find your dream job.”

“NO, NO, NO!!! I mean SIX DIGITS!! SIX DIGITS!! You KNOW what I meant.”

Me, laughing uncontrollably, “Too late!! You said it!!”

“Damn. That’s going on the blog, isn’t it?”

“ You're *#@& right it is…”

(It's a repost from the "lost files". If you want an update on Sassy it's here...)


It's Super Blog Sunday

I am declaring today Super Blog Sunday.

There are so many wonderful blogs out there- and frankly, TOO many to mention here today. But I will GIVE it a try! (Go big or go home, I always say…) These are ALL worth your time.

Suzy at Where Hollywood Comes to Die (I always laugh out loud when I visit her. I am not kidding.

Angie, of Gumbo Writer……(She'a good friend, an amazing writer- and and editor. You always need one of THOSE in your corner!)

Braja ...Lost and Found in India

Karen at Scobberlotch… (She loves NPR, has written a book, and I love her blog.)

Janie at Sounding Forth (She's generous, kind, funny and a very loyal friend. And a heifer.)

Jill at Scary Mommy (She’s got a touching post about young girls and body image. Very close to home.)

Sara in Vermont! (She's incredibly talented, and a good hearted woman.)

Blunt Force Momma (She’s the author of The Second Nine Months. Funny, funny, funny.)

Mary Anne at Stiletto Mom (She's talented, and just downright good people.)

Elise at Oh My Goddess (The fact that she mentioned the Galloping Gourmet AND Julia Child? We're twins separated at birth.)

Scope at SCOPE!

Cora from Love Letters who just RECENTLY got engaged to SCOPE!! It’s a fantastic story- and you know how I love a little romance. Frankly, I’m sending my bridesmaid dress to the dry-cleaners to I can participate. I’ll just jump in at the end of the procession.

Mo at Mo Stoneskin (He’s got new digs. Plus, he taught me to hold down the control key and scroll my mouse to ENLARGE type. Who knew?)

Ann from Ann’s Rants

Hutch - He's amazing. AMAZING.

Kate Lord Brown from What Kate Did Next – Fantastic discussions for writers.

Ian from Idiot’s Stew

Weaselmomma. She's an amazing person, who smiles and laugh despite having suffered an incredible heartbreak.

Rick from My Daley Rant (He’s just #*$& funny.)

The Captain from Us and Them. (My garden can kick his garden’s you know what.)

Irish Gumbo! (Who frankly I think is my good friend Steve King in disguise. Fess up Kevin. FESS UP!)

Brian Miller from Waystation One (He blows me away with his talent every time I visit.)

Jeff D’Antonio, ChiTown Girl, Pseudonomous, and The Truth Will Set You Free. You know I have an affinity for teachers.

By the time I get all these linked up it's be MONDAY for God's sake..........

Stay Tuned for part two- NEXT Sunday. :-) If you have one to recommend, let us all know in the comment section! Even if it's YOURS.

There. Now I'm disausted.


I never think before I speak....

Sassy, “I’ve decided I’m never getting married.”

“What? Oh, honey. Don't say that. Some day you’ll find a guy who will just be crazy over you!”

Sassy, “MOM! I already HAD one of those! Jesus. I don’t want to go through THAT again!”

Yes, there is laughter again…………..


Watch out for that speed bump!

It’s funny how your life’s path has its twists and turns.

There are times when I am feeling funny, and flip, and I usually try to find the humor in the face of adversity. But today is not one of those times. I am talking straight up, and I hope that everyone is listening.

A year ago I was bitching and complaining about my bitching and complaining daughters. Today I’m standing beside one of them and holding her hand as she takes the stand in a courtroom in the hopes of ending a traumatic and stressful couple of YEARS.

In Oregon, and I’m sure elsewhere in the US, a person who is charged with a crime must face the judge to determine if there is just cause for a trial. (OR something like that) After being prepped by an amazing assistant D.A., and several wonderful detectives, Sassy felt confident that the decision to move forward, and take this seriously, was the right one.

She had to go ON THE STAND and answer many, many questions from this young man’s attorney. I explained to her beforehand that his attorney was just doing his job. She needed to remember that it wasn’t PESONAL, and that she just had to be HONEST when answering the questions. Honesty- that was the rule of the day.

I was sequestered OUTSIDE the courtroom, and was not able to be inside close to her on a defining moment in her young life. I stood outside the glass doors at the very back of the courtroom and watched as she raised her hand, and then settled into the hot seat. It just about killed me.

I watched as best I could, making sure I was in her line of vision. I sent her all the strength I could muster and waited. During those 40 minutes my stomach was turning inside out, and I was pretty sure that I was going to lose the contents at any minute. I saw her leave the stand and walk down the aisle toward the back of the courtroom and knew it was my turn. As she left the courtroom to compose herself, I made my way down the aisle.

It’s amazing to me how much courage you can have when your child’s well-being is at stake.

At the end of it all, it was determined that there was enough evidence for this to proceed. When we were finished and in the hall preparing to leave, Sassy and I clung to each other and wept.

We pray that this unfortunate young man finds his way. There were several times that I looked at him and was reminded that HE is someone’s little boy. It broke my heart. He has his whole life ahead of him – and if he doesn’t see this as his chance to change, then he’s doomed.

So, on this day after Thanksgiving, our hope is that we can all send a prayer his way to speed him along this path of healing. We are working very hard at this home to heal our little one.

Let’s hope his lesson has been learned.


We're off the see the wizard....

Today, I am wrapping Sassy in a cloak of courage as we take the next step in "learning about life". We will make our way to the courthouse, and she will need to be brave. If you have a moment to send some thoughts our way – it would be greatly appreciated.

In attempt to lighten the moment, a few pearls from the kindergarten class.

“I don’t need a coat. I have body heat.”

“I don’t want to be a rich person when I grow up. I want to be a teacher!”

“My dog Ginger gave my brother’s Sponge Bob pillow the weiner torture…..so she threw it out.”


Hello, Lover...

Some of you (perhaps if you've have been in a coma these past few months) might not know that I am in SERIOUS awe of Stephen King. I own ALL of his books (hardbacks, no less) and have read most of them. (I’m sorry, Steve, but Lisey’s Story is STILL on my table with the bookmark that Tommy Tucker made me rooted safely in the middle. That one is tough going.)

I adore his “On Writing” and have recommended it at least one thousand times on this blog, and probably more than that on all the others I’ve been visiting night and day since this blogging madness began 17 months ago. I feel a special kinship with Steve- it’s almost as if we’re related. I adore his writing style- he makes me feel as if I am listening to him talk while I read his words. I can honestly hear that New England accent come through as I gobble up his words like a starving woman.

To be quite frank, I’ve often thought our styles were somewhat similar. Well, except for the fact that, oh, he’s a GAZILLIONAIRE, and his characters throw hatchets and spew blood and rise from the dead. Yeah, other than those minor details, we’re practically twins.

His advice to writers, however, is golden. If you’ll allow me, here are a few of his important points:

1. Most books about writing are bullshit.

2. Omit needless words. (Okay, he stole that from Elements of Style, but I forgive him.)

3. You must not come lightly to the blank page.

4. When writing, use the first word that comes to your mind, if it is appropriate and colorful.

5. The adverb is not your friend.

6. Read and write a lot. Let me say that again. Read and Write a lot.

I know I’ve been rambling, but here’s the point of this. My sister, the queen of finding gold at the Goodwill, brought me a little present recently, a gift in honor of my hero.

And if you take the time to look inside, you might see THIS!!!

Yeah. I almost PASSED OUT when she gave it to me. Ain’t sisters grand?

(I'm over here today, as well. He threatened me and pressured me and was relentless. Well. Not really.)


Only SHE would get excited about a lemon reamer...

I am spending the day with my beloved sister. You know her well.

We will be spending the day dragging ourselves from one craft show/church bazaaar to another, visiting the local Goodwill store, the used book store and that fabulous gourmet grocery store that she loves so much.

We will laugh until we pee our pants, share a few funny and painful memories, and surround ourselves with laughter, love and warm sour dough bread and brie cheese.

There is nothing in the world like a sister.

(And if my brother is reading this, I MEANT to say there's nothing in the world like a BROTHER.)


Those Pioneers Were Brilliant....

I’ve discovered the reason that the pioneers and people from the “old days” wed their daughters to strangers when they were 15.

It’s because their daughters were bitches and they couldn’t stand them anymore. It’s true.

Now, I don’t want anyone out there with young girls to shake their heads and say, “Oh, my little Apple would NEVER be like that. She will never tell me to go to hell, or flip me the finger, or say ‘f*#$ you’ to me.”

Guess again. Yeah, I said those words. I judged people. I shook my head. And now, am I eating crow, man, or what?

When Bitchy was about 14 (I’m just ballparking here) she began to earn her nickname. At first I kept my mouth shut; I screamed; I’m sure I took a swipe or two; and I distinctly remember dragging her down the hall by her hair and shoving soap in her mouth after she called me a b*&$#. Then, I ran screaming to the liquor store and that’s where I’ve been ever since. (They know my name.)

There were many, many nights I would lay awake in bed and ask God “How can it be that I do not like my daughter?” I’m here to tell ya, I really, really, really, really didn’t like her AT ALL. I thought that I must be the most horrible person, let alone MOTHER, in the world! (And yeah, now I know why many animals eat their young.)

The good news is, I really did try to maintain some self-control, and I have to say - in all honesty, I really do love her again. It’s true!! Oh, we still have our moments, she is 20, after all, but I can honestly look at her and feel the deep, unwavering love. Whew.

However, back to the killing of the young thing; Sassy is 17 and I feel like I’m in a bad movie that is repeating itself. Did someone hit the rewind button when I wasn’t looking? Didn’t I tell my bff that this would NEVER happen to Sassy? Didn’t I? Yeah, and now I am shaking my head and laughing at myself.

At this point in my ranting, I’d like to give a little advice to Sue. Take two martinis and we’ll chat in three years.

By then, you’ll see a glimpse of that lovely young lady we all once knew and loved.


You're as young as you feel...and I feel old.

My Mom says my Uncle needs to get married right away before it's too late...he was born in the 80's, so he's really old...


Proud Shmoud....

As most of you know, we live in a college town here in Smythe, Oregon. The local high school here has about 3,000 kids enrolled. Sure, that’s a lot of kids- but most of the time it does feel like a small town.

Each year, all year LONG, we read in the paper about the incredible accomplishments of many of the seniors that are seemingly PHENOMENAL.

Here’s what I’d like to print.

Sassy Smith, daughter of Tightwad and Vodkamom, is the proud recipient of the, well, um, nothing. Her parents are very proud of the fact she’s never officially been arrested, and has brilliantly outmaneuvered the police on several occasions when they’ve appeared at “study meetings” she might have attended.

Although she’s never been a girl scout, she did spend a year participating in the brownies, which netted her parents, and extended family members, a bazillion boxes of cookies, some of which might STILL be in the back of their freezers. It also earned her a weekend camping experience that we try not to bring up. She has not volunteered to help the homeless, the hungry or the huddled masses, because she’s been too &#% busy playing field hockey She was offered a chance to work the Special Olympics, but she respectfully declined. Yeah.

Although she’s not being considered for ANY scholarships, her parents are working feverishly to find a way to ship her to college as far away as possible.

and it's all out of love.


Love is dangerous business...

Overheard in class........

"If you don't say I do, at the bride, at the wedding, you can get arrested.....I'm not kidding."


Breakfast at Tiffany's...sort of....

Breakfast at Vodkamoms:

Sassy: WHO ATE ALL THE *^&#@**^^% frosting? There’s supposed to be FOUR packets of *@#$-ing frosting left in the toaster strudel box!!! GOLDEN BOY!!

Me: PLEASE don’t shout (&@^-ing at your brother AND YOUR MOTHER first thing in the *^&@*#&$^ morning. Jesus.

Sassy: There’s no more *^@^$&*^% frosting left, and I KNOW he ate it all. He’s a (&*^ pig!!!

Me (Looking in the freezer): Oh, look there. What’s that? Looks like the *^% frosting. Imagine that. Well, it’s nice to know that things are back to *&@#ing normal around here. Have a great $#@ day at school.

(Ahhh, the sweet sound of normalcy...)


Family, heal thyself...

We are busy around this neck of woods. (Here in Oregon)

I am feverishly working on several projects. One, I will keep under wraps for a bit longer - because I am incredibly distracted by the second, more important project.

Keeping Sassy and our family safe, healthy and strong.

It's a daunting task. However, we are all looking at this as a learning experience and are trying to extract all of the good that has come of it.

"What good?" you ask. Well, there's plenty.

1. We have felt an immense amount of love and support from far and wide. Thank you Sara for sending the amazing book called "The Gift of Fear". We will pay it forward. The other words, suggestions, recommendations and thoughts have all been shared and appreciated.

2. Sassy has decided that a career in some kind of law enforcement is now in her future- and frankly we are all so happy. We can't believe we didn't think of it before. It's perfect for her. This revelation has given her a new perspective on this experience, and that is a good, good thing.

3. We are spending a bit more time being nice to each other, and a bit less time screaming our heads off. For now.

So, again, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. You've wrapped us in love and support, and we are thankful.


It's a canoe race...

Okay boys and girls, that’s our schedule for the day. Any other questions or comments?

Jack: “Did you know I can hold my pee for a really, really, really long time?” (Big smile)

Me: “Huh. Well. Are you experimenting with that theory right about now?”

Jack: “What does that mean?”

“That means – go to the bathroom. We’ll wait.”


Don't mess with Sassy...

Dear Sassy,

The call I received last week at lunchtime shook me to the core. You were on the bus on your way to the game, and you filled me in.

Your voice was shaky, full of terror as you tried in one minute to tell me that Georgie had been at school. You desribed your actions and quick thinking.

My heart stopped and my brain kicked into gear. Events were set into motion that we had hoped wouldn’t occur. Phone calls were made, and you did the right thing by not calling me first. You did all the right things.

I don’t think I will ever be able to describe the feelings in my heart that afternoon. Fortunately I was distracted as I dodged speeding tractor-trailers making their way through Eugene, Oregon as drove to your game. I knew, however, that I couldn’t speak to anyone for a while for fear I would have a breakdown.

I want to give you strength, I want to give you comfort, I want to wrap you in love- but your fragility has made a coherent conversation impossible.

So, I am writing this note to tell you I’m proud of you. I know this has been an incredible nightmare for you -and all of us– but you are learning some valuable life lessons that your father and I could never teach you. You’re one of the lucky ones, and let’s not forget that.

We will also be ready to kick some major @** if Georgie dares to show his face around this house, this town or your life again.

And by the way, there are about 2.3 thousand people standing right behind me.


I do cry once in a while...only a little...

I dreamed of my mother last night.

It was an odd dream, it had no rhyme nor reason. My mother was living in an unfamiliar house- one filled with antiques and paintings that were made by us - her children. I watched her intently as she spoke to me - almost as if we were neighbors, as if we haven’t been separated by space, time and that nasty inconvenient tiny matter of her death.

Our conversation was insignificant – I can’t even remember what it was. I DO remember that I had an intense feeling that I wanted to hold on to her and never let her go. I knew in my heart she was dead. I watched her intently as she spoke, and joined her in laughing at something I can’t remember.

I’m not sure what this dream signifies. All I know is that for a few brief moments in the dark recesses of the night, I was wrapped in her love.

And it felt good.


Is that a turkey I hear?

Every month after I finish my column I breathe a deep sigh of relief. Whew! Then each month, I panic! “What can I possibly write about next month? I’ll never think of anything! I’m doomed. “ It’s the same routine every month.

But, as Ray Barrone so eloquently put it at his brother Robert’s wedding, sometimes material just presents itself. (Remember when Marie Barrone stopped the wedding? I cracked up!) Well, what better way to end up with material in your lap, than Thanksgiving time? This month, as we all know, Thanksgiving comes early, which works out perfectly for me considering my deadline is right smack in the middle of the month. In kindergarten, we’ve started singing turkey songs, made turkey headbands, disguised our turkeys, colored our turkeys, and have even made turkeys out of apples. (Note to self- don’t give pointy toothpicks to 5 and 6 year old boys. Bad things happen.)

As we journey into this land of thankfulness, we have many discussions about why we celebrate this holiday. I asked the class what Thanksgiving was, and I got a variety of answers. Some said it was day where we thanked people, but most said it was a holiday about eating. Now, for some of us (okay, me) every day is a holiday about eating. There is definitely something to celebrate every day, right? I personally like to celebrate the fact that I made it through another day. Anyone with teenagers knows what I’m talking about.

Back to the Thanksgiving discussion- I proceeded to explain to the children why we eat on Thanksgiving. I got to the part where I told them that the pilgrims came across the ocean on the Mayflower and landed in our country, and at this point one young fella (the unfortunate guy who was absent when the mascot for our local college team made the surprise visit to our classroom) piped up with a loud moan. “ Aw, man!!! I always miss the good stuff! I was at my nona and poppie’s all weekend.” He felt better when I explained that this happened a long, long time ago. After a lengthy and confusing discussion, we talked about what we were thankful for. I told them some of the things I was thankful for, hoping to be a good example, and this is what they told me,

· I am thankful for my sister Heather’s kitty Pepper. I love her!

· I am thankful for my dog. He’s dead now. But, I am thankful for him.

· I don’t really know, but there is something stuck on my shoe.

· I am thankful for my Illinois Jersey

· I am thankful for my fish.

· I am thankful for my family. (YEAH!)

· I am thankful for macaroni and cheese.

· I am thankful for toys.

· I am thankful my mom borned me.

· I’m thankful for tissues. (So is the teacher.)

Some days it is hard to conjure up things that I am thankful for. There are many days when things just don’t go right. The bills are due, someone needs lunch money, it’s time for new winter coats (Why do kids have to grow?), that winter sport is not free, they need new shoes, haircuts, and the car battery is really, really dead. On top of that, the dog needs to go to the vet, grandma’s birthday is next week, the laptop died, Smith library needs to be paid for that missing book, someone is screaming for money, and we could use a few groceries.

But then, when the hectic day is coming to an end, I sit back and relax. I think I can come up with one or two things I am thankful for. My children are healthy, fairly happy, and safe asleep in their beds right now. (The best time of day, don’t you think?) My parents might be gone, but I have a wonderful brother and sister that I am truly thankful for. I have a hubby that I am still crazy about, and his family still likes me. (crazy, huh?) I have great friends and co-workers who graciously carried my family through two tragic losses last year. (You know that social fund to which we all contribute each year to ensure that flowers and cards are sent to colleagues when needed? Well, it is not a good sign when you end up with all the cards and flowers.) I have a wonderful class this year, as always, with children who are caring, loving, and very, very funny.

Yeah, I’m thankful. When everyone’s in bed, the house is quiet and the day is done, you’re darn right I’m thankful.

(This is one of my first pieces from a couple of years ago. Hope you enjoyed it...)


Some Challenging Reading and a HUGE Giveaway.

I have decided that it would be remiss of me not to share some of the classics that I’ve been reading with all of you. Frankly, I am ready to give them away to one or two lucky winners.

First, let me share the books. In this first classic, the hero meets the heroine, they fight, they make up, they kiss a little and live happily ever after. It is set in London.

In this second classic, the hero meets the heroine, they fight, they make up, they kiss a little and live happily ever after. It is set in Scotland.

In this third classic, the hero meets the heroine, they fight, they make up, they kiss a little and live happily ever after. It is set in Ireland.

And in this fourth, there’s a twist; the hero meets the heroine, they fight, they SOLVE A MURDER, they kiss a little and live happily ever after. It is set in Murdertown, U.S.A.

The rules?

1. Donate a couple of thousand dollars to the “Send Sassy to boarding school” fund over at the Paypal button on the sidebar.

2. Find me an agent who loves a vodka-swilling mother that teaches kindergarten.

3. Do fifteen jumping jacks.

4. Vote for me over at Best Humor Blog (It’s called Waitress Where’s My Martini.)

5. Make me laugh.

You may choose ANY or NONE of the above. I will print out your names, put them in a hat and throw them off my deck. The first one that lands in the dog poop wins these classics.

Oh, and if those books above are just too challenging for your brain, I’m willing to throw in this one by E.B. White. Call it a little light reading.

And if you vote for me (Waitress Where's My Martini) over at Best Humor Blog NUMEROUS times, I'll send you this classic People Magazine. It's guaranteed to increase your vocabulary tenfold.


Someone pass me the aspirin.

Number of times I snapped Jeffrey’s pants for him today? Four.

Number of coats I had to zip up before recess? 17.

Number of coats I had to UNZIP after recess? Two. Why is it easier to get them off than on?

Number of times I had to tie Jane’s tie-dyed shoelaces that are so slippery they won’t stay tied? Five. (How DO they untie when they are triple knotted? HOW?)

Number of children I had to send to the nurse after they picked their noses so much they BLED? Two.

Number of times my boobs got hit while a little one was trying to get my attention? Five. At least. (Tightwad might wonder why they are all bruised this weekend. Or not.) Why can’t I be taller? A good four inches would certainly get them out of range. (I should go get that nursing bra back – then I wouldn’t feel it!)

Number of squished raisins I had to pick up after school? A gazillion. And a half.

Number of naps I’ll be taking after school today? One. And heaven help the person that tries to wake me up.


The Question of the Day

"Mrs. Smythe, Can I tell you something? You know that caterpillar we had in our classroom last week? It turned into a racoon!"

That was SOME incredible caterpillar.


No Thanks, Oprah...I'm Too busy.

Reasons why Oprah will never invite me to Skype with her.

1. I’m a size 12. On a good day. And that’s after “freezing my *** off” on my deck in nothing but my nightie. Don’t they say when you are cold your body burns calories? Yeah, well, I’ll be outside losing a few pounds while you people google that interesting tidbit. (Call it one of my top ten tips from anorexics.)

2. I still have all my own real teeth. Well, except for those five crowns I have, but THREE of them are porcelain so they don’t count. Also, my veneers are practically my own teeth now that they’re 16 years old and see-through. (Maybe I could get a sponser to buy me some gorgeous white teeth. Hello, Crest? Colgate?)

3. I’m fifty years old. I’m a fifty-year-old mother of a middle school-er. Jesus, I wouldn’t even talk to myself if I weren’t myself. Wait, does that make sense?

4. I’m too busy yelling at my kids to have time to Skype with Oprah, anyway. “Yeah, Golden Boy, who’s that on the phone? Gayle? Oprah? Take a message, I’m busy screaming at your sister right now. And someone shut those barking dogs up.”

5. Since I managed to get myself in trouble at work I’ve worked very hard to become anonymous. So, unless she can put someone ELSE’S head on my body, and give me someone else’s body, and change my voice, and, oh, wait. I think I’ve got a great idea.

Someone get me the phone…



Dear Powers that be in the Universe:

You know how for the last five years I’ve been yelling up a STORM at the moms and dads that INSIST on dropping off their middle schoolers in the NO DROP OFF ZONE at the entrance to the middle school - that is located RIGHT NEXT to my school?? Remember that?

And you know how I ALMOST slam RIGHT INTO some of those cars on that blind turn every morning even though I KNOW they will be there? Well…um,...guess what I was doing this morning?

Yeah. Dropping off MY middle schooler. On that same blind corner.

Don’t worry. I yelled at myself.


I'll take "I Should Have Known That" for $200, Alex.

"Mrs Smith, you know that wedding I went to in Miss Concert? (Wisconsin) I got new Tick Tocks for it! "

Me: "Tick Tocks? What are tick tocks?"

Susie: "You know TICK TOCKS. When you put them on and walk they go TICK TOCK TICK TOCK on the floor!" Big Smile.

Silly me.


It's a lockdown...

I feel compelled to take a step back from the humorous vodkamom posts for a minute and talk about what’s happening to our family.

Stalking is serious business. It’s not something to mess with, it’s not something to ignore, and it’s not something to joke about. So joke I won’t.

I feel at this point I should share what steps we have taken as a family to ensure the safety of our darling girl.

First, we went to the police. Sassy shared her story with an amazing police officer that was respectful, empathetic, professional and very, very serious about this case. Frankly, he told us that this young man could be arrested based on all that she shared. (Keep in mind she is 17 – still a minor. This fella is 19 and lives in a town 40 miles away.) It took her a long time, but she tried to record all of the events of the last couple of YEARS and we are delivering it to the police.

As parents, we were shocked about all that she shared, and honestly I feel awful that after all the hints and stories she shared with me that I didn’t pick up on it before her tearful confession. But, that’s water under the bridge.

Then, I DID speak to the principal at her high school. She was amazing and listened to all I had to say. She also made it a point to talk to Sassy and that made me feel good. The Police Officer in the high school (who, in the meantime, had been contacted by the Police Officer in charge of Sassy’s case) also made it a point to talk with her the Monday after we spoke to the police. It turns out that this “fella” has been removed from school property already this year. (shiver)

I also explained the situation to the head coach of her athletic team, and was shocked to learn that another (younger) player had experienced a stalking situation earlier in the year as well. Wow.

We have two loud, barking dogs that I’ve decided I actually love again. Sure, they bark at every animal, person, falling leaf and drive our neighbors and our relatives INSANE. However, with Tightwad away during the week I sleep better knowing that if anyone comes close to the house the dogs bark loud enough to wake the dead.

We are all on edge and snapping at each other left and right. However, I’ve noticed that Sassy is going more places and not skulking around the house. Now that this is in the open and people have circled the wagons to protect her, I can sense a weight has been lifted.

So, we are watching our every move, we are praying it is over - but we are not fooling ourselves. It ain’t over til the fat lady sings.

And I’m not talking about “Five Little Pumpkins”.

Peace be with you.