Got Trust?

The funniest part of parenting (in my humble estimation) is when your child discovers something for the first time, and tells you about it, like you’ve never heard it before.

Case in point: The movie “Good Morning Vietnam” starring Robin Williams.

My son saw this movie awhile back, and thought parts of it were hysterical, calling me over to watch with him. The fact that I had seen the movie “back in the day” meant nothing.
I knew nothing (a parental fact I should have learned by now.)

The scene my son loved  – and wanted to share – was when the Vietnamese boy was talking with Adrian Cronauer (Robin Williams character) and says, “You don’t trusting me!”

You don’t trusting me. 

My son said it over and over. We laughed. It was a cute mother/son sharing moment, brought to me from an old movie.

Fast forward to last weekend.

My son – who doesn’t go out regularly – went out. To a party. He shared with me prior to going that he would spend the night at a friends house. I was a nervous wreck. And literally did not sleep longer than about 45 minutes in a row the entire night.

My head was swirling with thoughts of crazy partying and drinking beyond the boundaries one could handle.

What if my son drinks and passes out, vomits, and chokes. And dies? (I know – super-scary, unpleasant thoughts. And ones that every parent of a teenager must feel from time to time.)

(Side note: We have already had the discussion – way early on – if there is drinking, then there is absolutely, positively NO DRIVING. Not yourself, or with anyone who has been drinking. Period. End of discussion. Call me. I will pick you up. Anytime. Anyplace. No questions asked.)

When the sun finally arose, I was bleary-eyed, and could NOT take a full breath until my text, posted at 3:53am “R u ok?” was answered – at 8:28am “We r all good.”

We r all good.

Heavy, deep sigh. 

My son came home from school on Monday and began telling me about two kids that were driving drunk and had a roll-over accident over the weekend. They were unharmed – thankfully.

I said, “Why would they drive? Why wouldn’t they call their parents?”

And the answer from my son literally made my heart sing.

He said, “Mom, they don’t trust their parents like I trust you.”

I tear up typing those words.

I joked, “You don’t trusting me.” We laughed.

Looks like maybe (perhaps?) I have done something right in the past 17 years.

I’ll take it.

(Note to parents of younger children: talk often and early to your children about drinking. Tell them you would prefer that they abstain from alcohol, BUT if they find themselves in a situation where either they drank or their driver drank to CALL YOU.



I told my son – after the party – I would have picked him up and taken him to his friends house. He said, “Mom, that’s weird.” I said, “I don’t care how weird it is. I would rather take you and your friend somewhere drunk and alive then the alternative.”)

Written for and posted with Montana Parent Magazine


Mother of three, Katie Walters is the author of An Authentic Life, a member of and is proudly invited to share weekly within the pages of Montana Parent Magazine’s website.

Parade in Perfect Town USA

Don’t mean to brag – 

Don’t mean to boast – 

But our sweet, little town – IS THE MOST!

Bozeman, Montana

I’ve never known a place to have more parades – and yesterday, Main Street was closed – again – in honor of Montana State University’s homecoming celebration.

It was a lovely first day of fall – and the streets were filled with local families and college students and alumni holding Bobcat donned babies of their own.

I love it.

I love being part of this fabulous community – and by the way I cheer and get riled up over the football Bobcats, you’d swear I was an alumni myself!

Bobcat Alum

This was a riot – whatever they were throwing from this truck was worth having…

…hats with Bobcat hair!!!


…these little parade goers aren’t quite sold on the pomp and circumstance…

The Funny Things Kids Remember

Written and shared with my peeps at Montana Parent of Bozeman and Helena. 

Last week I shared my tumultuous feelings over my son beginning his final year of high school. The last stepping stone prior to jumping into the collegiate pond  – and beyond.

Of course, out of one side of my mouth, I tell Sexy Hubby, “This time next year, we’ll be moving Skippy into the Montana State University dorms.” {God willing!!} Immediately followed by, “This time next year, if we want to take a vacation – WE CAN! There will be nothing to stop us.”

I also shared a brief story that “high-lighted” my son’s SECOND day of pre-school. If you recall, his first day of pre-school was perfect. He walked in, said goodbye and I left – crying to myself.

It was the second through 90th day that brought stomach gasses into my esophagus, as once the “pre-schooler” knew what to expect (read= being left behind) he protested in a major way – crying, clinging, with dozens of yelps of “mommy-don’t-go” until the teacher and I worked out a routine of disengagement – I would walk in the classroom, and she would immediately pick him up so I could make my inevitable escape.

I don’t recall that we ever talked to him about separation anxiety. Would he have understood? Would it have changed the course of our history? Would it have made the morning drop-off hell and less hellacious any sooner? What memories linger in his young mind about that time in his early life?

I cannot say, nor do I want to deeply consider. Once that time had passed, I wasn’t about to look back. Not for anything.

Fast forward nearly two years, my son is now safely ensconced in his Kindergarten – First Grade mixed classroom, nearing the end of the school year, and a piece of artwork comes home, strewn about with corrected spelling tests and smashed lunch left-overs.

The fact that A) I noticed this artwork was one thing (parents, you know how many pieces of art de resistance come home in a given day? Especially at the end of the year when the teacher is clearing the classroom clutter) and B) I actually SAVED it – is nothing short of a miracle.

As I was preparing to write this blog post, Sexy Hubby saw this artwork sitting near the printer. Apparently he had never seen it, or didn’t remember it, but we both got a chuckle and warmed hearts upon seeing it again.

Parental Tip #234: Only save the artwork that makes an impact – especially the pieces that are drawn from the artistic minds of babes.

{Or from seemingly horrifying memories that will haunt the little darlings well into adulthood…}


Mother of three, Katie Walters is the author of An Authentic Life, a member of and is proudly invited to share within the pages of Montana Parent Magazine’s website.

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