Our new contact info

Just wanted to update our friends and family with our new and permanent contact info. Our mailing address is:

Chassati, Anaiah and Kannon Thiele

P. O. Box 7495

Waco, TX 76714

We will keep this mailing address indefinitely, regardless of where our physical address is in the future. Our little family wishes yours a very happy holiday season!!

But alas... I'm not marriagable...

One of my friends from college, now a doctor, posted a link on Facebook the other day that really made me chuckle... and made me want to slap this woman (the author) with a huge, hairy phallus...

Why women still need husbands...

SO... apparently I've been doing it all wrong. I'm not very marriageable. I should be concentrating on having babies and cooking banana pudding or whatever men find innately appealing. Silly me... I've been the bread winner in every relationship I've ever had and am now solely responsible for my two children. And, because of the nature of the argument, I must add that I excitedly and naively birthed both children into a seemingly stable, loving marriage. Seemingly... but, damn, looks and feelings can be so starkly deceiving.

Why in the world would this relatively intelligent woman make such sweeping generalizations regarding all women and all men? The divorce rate and the amount of single, working mothers in our country is overwhelmingly high. I promise almost 100% of marriages begin with love and hopes and dreams. I never intended to be 32 and divorced twice with two kids. That's really not something anyone in their right mind would strive for, and honestly, its embarrassing to even say out loud. So go ahead, crucify me further, audacious, self-righteous Suzanne Venker. Tell me that love eludes the "modern woman" as long as she chooses to wear the pants and work outside of the home. Chooses? What in the world do you suggest?? Its not even realistic, in most circumstances, for only one parent to work outside of the home in two-parent families. Where does that leave the those of us who are single with kids and will be in this chapter of life for quite some time?

Those of us with absolutely no choice can either embrace the concept of the "modern woman" or our kids can starve. That's about it. The fact that I am single has nothing to do with me being "marriageable" or not. It has to do with my husband being so high on drugs he couldn't even remember his own name, etc. You get the point. While it takes two to succeed and fail in a marriage, Rene and I agree that he single-handedly destroyed our marriage without much help at all from me.

And as far as working toward being "marriageable"... What ideas would this ridiculous woman throw my way? Maybe if I hang out at the local grocery store next to the cucumbers with a bottle of wine, a lovely man will cruise by and give me his number. Oh, or maybe I could fake a flat tire on the side of the road and see who stops to rescue me. Or, hey, what if I keep changing my own damn tires and worry about feeding my kids. There's an idea. What if we weren't so obsessed with relationships and chasing romance? What if we concentrated on people as individuals? What if we seriously examined what we could offer introspectively instead of judging people for what they can or can't do for us? I have been from one serious, long-term relationship to the next pretty much since I was 15 years old. I have been defined by someone else, or rather my relationship with someone else, for more than half of my life. Raymond/Chass -> Carlo/Chass -> Raymond/Chass (again) -> Doug/Chass -> Rene/Chass... I think its time to stop the serial relationship madness and breathe. I like who I am becoming outside of the box.

Hi. My name is Chassati Beth Thiele. I have purple hair and am heavily tattooed. I love Jesus, good beer and really strong coffee. You are welcome to have an opinion on any of that, but I suggest you keep it to yourself unless you are paying my bills or sorting through the past two years with me. And do not generalize me. You will find that to be quite frustrating and discouraging. For every one thing you criticize about someone else, you can find three things to personally improve. If I don't share my opinions on politics, religion or world peace, its not because I don't have them. Its because I wish to avoid irritating, fruitless conversations. Odds are you aren't going to change my mind and I won't change yours either. I don't need someone to pat me on the head and tell me I'm pretty or smart or sexy or funny. I'm not perfect, but parts of me are awesome and I'm getting better every day. How's that for unmarriageable ...

"There are years that ask questions and years that answer." - Zora Neale Hurston

October 24th was pretty much normal for the most part. Except it wasn't. It was actually the biggest day in our family's life since Kannon's birth. At 1:15 pm, I met my attorney outside the 414th district court. I walked in Chassati Thiele Bauman and walked out Chassati Beth Thiele. I was so unexpectedly nervous. The termination of parental rights had already been filed, but the judge had to sign off on it. I kept thinking of all of the possible road blocks that hadn't crossed my mind over the past year. How in the world hadn't I thought of this and how hadn't I considered that? My lawyer had to go over the entire final divorce decree and the termination and asked me simple question after simple question. After two nightmarish years, I just wanted to sit there and sign something. It wasn't that easy. "If you die, can you ensure, under oath, that the children will be cared for financially and emotionally? How solid is your family? Support system? Will their best interests be upheld and made a priority?"... God, I hope so... Anything dealing with the kids makes my mama's heart more sensitive than normal and my blood boil several degrees hotter regardless what the situation... but this was HUGE and, again, shoved the fact that I have to be enough for them right in my seasoned poker face.

I walked out of the courthouse exactly an hour after I walked in. It's amazing how years can be legally dissolved in less than an hour. I sat in my car and stared at the certified, filed copy of the termination of rights and divorce decree for a healthy half hour. I cried a little, because, since I was 17, voluntary crying, while healthy, is only done in my car by myself. Damn the idiosyncrasies of a self-proclaimed hard-ass...  The tears were charged with relief, anger, sadness, empathy and disappointment.

I felt myself relax a little with relief that the legal part of this cluster was finally over. The ridiculous knots in my back actually felt a little better for the first time longer than I could remember. Because of Rene's involvement with and connections to the wrong kind of people, it's been absolutely imperative that the kids and I are legally disconnected from him. The mere fact that I was legally bound to him by marriage resulted in countless phone calls from Waco PD Narcotics task force, the McLennan County Sheriff's Department and, most recently and unpleasantly, the ATF. I'm expecting Hollywood to call any moment and ask for movie rights. It would be a damn good one.

I was angry, too. You know when that fiery pit of lava starts burning in  your stomach and spreads to the rest of you, leaving your cheeks and ears hot, your hands shaking and your heart visibly beating fast and hard in your chest? I was that kind of angry. My make up looked damn good and I was ruining it. Okay, just kidding... kind of... I was angry because I wanted so much more for my kids than these papers in my lap. I wanted the beautiful, loving, Godly man I married to be their father, instead of the self-loathing stranger he had become. I wanted Anaiah and Kannon to have a strong traditional family unit. Yes, I know nothing about me is really traditional or ever has been, but I wanted the mom-and-dad, white-picket-fence, American dream family for my kids. I don't come from that and it is probably romanticized to an allowable extent in my heart and mind, even at 32 years old. Life in this world is hard enough. The deck is stacked against every one of us as soon as the doctor smacks our ass and we belt out that first cry. Parents should be the strongest fortress and safe haven for their children, second only to God. One side of my kids' fortress is completely obliterated and now God and I have to work overtime to reconstruct and keep out the bad. That made me angry.

The sadness was fueled by an overwhelming sense of helplessness. Rene's demise sent us all down a very unfriendly and hurtful path, and the kids are inevitably going to revisit that path from time to time during their lives, long after I have dealt with my hurt and trust issues. Every kid wants a daddy they are proud of. It can't be helped. I cannot explain this away. I cannot love or pray this away. Prayer will, of course, give me the strength and direction to best explain and love as my relationship with my children evolves and grows into new seasons. However, we are where we are and part of now will always be a part of every tomorrow.

A quick and simple definition of empathy is "identification with and understanding of another's situation, feelings and motives." It is important for me to interject that this is different than sympathy. I've received some very fiery and pointed criticism for continuing to have contact with Rene. Most of the judgmental, snarky comments and monologues come from those very close to us and these people are hurting, too. Rene let a lot of people down, including my family and close friends. They had confidence that he would honor, protect, love and respect us and he failed them. I can't be too harsh with my comebacks to these all-knowing voices telling me he is a worthless son-of-a-bitch and that I am a weak, emotional, wounded, needy, scorned woman seeking validation that I was and am worth more that a boatload of methamphetamines and a handful of whores. This is not the case. I empathize with the Rene who sits, sober, in a jail cell and realizes that he has lost a great career, four beautiful, amazing kids and a damn good wife. That has to be an enormous blow to the human psyche. I empathize with the man who wakes up on Christmas morning and has the echoes of his kids' excited giggles and the smell of coffee and breakfast only in his mind. I empathize with the 14 year old boy who counts on his mom to nurse him through his first heartbreak and to teach him how to throw a nasty right hook. I empathize with the young woman who has to decide who will walk her down the aisle, if she decides to marry. That really shouldn't be a decision at all. Pity is sometimes a synonym of empathy, but not in this case.

Sitting there staring at the legal repercussions of addiction and human weakness in my lap, I was so beyond disappointed. Every single step taken over the last two years that led up to these drastic measures disappointed me. My marriage was over when the Rene I married ceased to exist, so that disappointment had already taken its course. We can't have the life together that I saw in my future on May 9th, 2009. I know that and am sure of it and have made peace with it. Onward and upward. However, the potential disappointment my kids will have to dodge throughout the course of their lives is much more than mine. Parents fall off of their pedestal at some point during every child's life, and it always hurts. It is disappointing that, at some point, my kids will know the truth of what has happened in our lives and that will inevitably be sooner than I want. I don't want to lie to my kids at all about anything, especially something as huge as how we got to where we are. I plan on choosing my words wisely, but at some point I'll have to lay it all out on the table and watch their faces as they hear things about their dad they shouldn't have to. Disappointment can tear the strongest people down faster than almost anything. I hope I can instill enough strength, self-respect and faith in my kids to carry them through what is waiting for them in the future.

That afternoon, I picked up Anaiah Marjorie Thiele and Kannon Samuel Thiele from daycare. I had snacks and sippy cups waiting in the car, and we were off to the gym for boot camp, just like any other Thursday. The kids didn't know the difference or significance of that particular Thursday, and its my mission to perpetuate that innocent ignorance for as long as I possibly can. But when I can't any longer, God and this mama will hopefully be enough to cushion the blow and keep us moving forward.

Don't Touch My Soul with Dirty Hands

Support is an interesting thing. While wading through the present cesspool of problems the kids and I are faced with daily, I've come to the stark-naked realization that ultimately its just the three of us. I know that there are people who love us and do care, but those people have their own lives and agendas and that's that. There have been people who have pleasantly surprised me with caring and concern, but more who have been a disappointment. I know that no one else is responsible for the three of us but me. That is really not a problem, and I prefer it that way. Rene voluntarily relinquished all parental rights two weeks ago, and I was very happy to hear it. I've always thought of my family and myself as more than enough to provide an environment for the kids to grow and flourish.

The long and short of it is that I've got to be more than enough, period. The kids aren't a priority to anyone else, unless of course the stars align exactly right or they fit into an already tight schedule of more important things. I don't mean to sound bitchy or ungrateful. Like I said, many people have really been fantastic to us and have gone above and beyond. Its just interesting to me that the people who have really shown us kindness and have been helpful are really not the ones I would have expected it from, generally. And, the ones I would have assumed would bend over backwards for us have been generally irritated, reluctant and have been very creative with excuses when I've needed help. I'm still pondering this and wondering what it says about people as a whole. I think I should spend more time on it, because my take-away at this juncture is not positive.

I've always preached that you can't expect more out of people than they are capable of giving. I guess now I've got to really internalize that. I've found myself withdrawing from people and situations that I've embraced in the past. Right now, I just think that's for the best. I think I may have been silly to trust so freely and expect people to do what they say they will and be who they appear outwardly to be. There's a Kurt Vonnegut quote that says, "We are what we pretend to be. So we must be careful about what we pretend to be." Its safe to say that the majority of what we know about any given person, no matter how close we are to them, is pretend, because people only put on the table what they want others to see. At what point are we sure of another person's motives or character? You will not see a person's heart and soul unless they are willing and honest.

A common mistake of mine is always *knowing* there's more to a person than what meets the eye. They are better and more loving, caring, beautiful, intelligent, etc. than they appear to be... The macabre reality is that they are what they are and I am more intelligent, beautiful, loving, caring, etc. than I know. My gut is always right, and I need to stop apologizing for truths that others have birthed and quit explaining myself away. I'm not the mom I want to be right now. My patience isn't what it should be and I could be a better example for my kids. I'm not the friend I want to be. I hope time and prayer and conscious diligence on my part can make these things and many others better as the moments and days and weeks pass. One foot in front of the other...

Anaiahism of the Day...

Anaiah: "Momma, can I color? I want to use the new crayons."
Chass: "Sure, but only get one crayon out at a time so they don't roll off the table onto the floor."

Anaiah immediately gets two yellow crayons out and sets them beside the paper on the table...

Chass: "Anaiah, I said only one crayon at a time."
Anaiah: "Mom, if they are the same color it doesn't count. They're both yellow."

I dread 14 years old... so... very... much...

Anaiahism of the Day... Round Two

Anaiah: "I'm a little I'm a little teapot, short and stout."

Chass: "Here is my handle, here is my spout."

Anaiah: "When I get all steamed up..."

Chass: "I just shout..."

Anaiah: "Tip me over and give me a big wiener with ranch on it."

Laughed so hard I cried... Where in the world did THAT come from?!? 

Anaiahism of the Day...

Anaiah: "Kannon Ball, let me give you one more kiss. I need to go tee-tee. Please watch Mommy while I'm gone and make sure she stays put and doesn't get into anything."

Kannon Ball: "Okay. I want bites."

So... I'm the shady one around here?! Haha!