Blip.

Okay.

I'm not really sure where this week went. I believe I spent most of it inside my head, fretting incessantly over a question any parent will eventually incessantly fret over: How long do I let me kid try to sort through her own situation before I step in to vociferously advocate on her behalf? And what message does this stepping-in send her? What message does it send others?

I figured everything out over the course of a few days, but I am stunned now to realize how much of my mental energy was directed towards this one thing. It's not even a particularly teeth-gnashing situation. But at this point I'm imagining What if it were? What if the stakes were higher? I'll tell you what would happen. I'd transform into some sort of three-headed, sword-wielding, fire-spitting mother goddess of revenge and destruction, that's what. It's good to know this now, I suppose.

To stave off the e-mails from those who frequently send love my way, I will repeat: this is not a big deal, my lovelies. Just the tiniest blip along an otherwise perfectly straight line.