Post Traumatic Blogging

I know, I know. I've been all radio silent on the blogosphere as of late.

After the pedos came and stole pictures of my kiddies, I've been a little hand-wringy over here about putting things on the interwebs.

PS- My friend, Joel, has coined the term Fecopedophilia- which I declare to be magic.

And then I had lunch with some pals yesterday. Some therapist friends.

PPS- Therapist friends are awesome because hello? Free therapy! Holla!

And they were all, "What are you afraid of?" And I was all, "The internet pedos! Agh! Hold me closer, Tony Danza!"

And then I thought about it. Whether we like it or not, there are sickos everywhere. There are. Let's face it. Plus, I have HBO and therefore, know about weird things like clown sex (ew).

I know that on any given outing (the grocery store, the park, the zoo), there is likely a sex offender out there.  That's why I won't let my kids dance naked in the window of our house- And yes, they've tried.  That's not a clothing optional kind of activity in my book.

What am I getting at?

As much as I would like to keep my progeny locked away in some safe, Rapunzel-type tower that is pervert-free, I know I can't. So, that said, I'm going to fight my upchuck reflex and pick up the blogger baton and be on my way.

Because, Internet Pervs? You're not allowed to win.

Send me your feedback. Do you agree with my decision? Do you think I'm coo-coo? Let's hear it.