Crazy Beast

At The Rail Pizza Company in Rogers, AR

I want this sergeant pepper jacket in my size.

Someone has taken my toddler and replaced her with a crazy, moody beast.

I say this with a lot of love, but also a teeny, tiny bit of desperation.  Has anyone seen Annaliese?!  You know her, she's about 33" tall, blonde hair, chubby belly, kissable face.  Something that looks like her is living in my house, but the devil inside this monster isn't my cute, squeezable, funny baby.  No, this three foot nothing lil woman can't be Annaliese!  This lil woman is a constant litany of whining, screaming, kicking. This lil woman speaks a language that I don't fully understand, and this inability to communicate is the ultimate trigger for destruction. This lil woman is racking up a lot of QT on the time out rug. And worse still, this lil woman dare I say it, hates shopping!  But I trained her so well, from day one!  She was supposed to sit quietly in the cart, laughing and smiling at strangers.  This can't be her...climbing out of the cart, pulling cosmetics off the shelves at Target, running full speed towards freedom, and (gasp!) being carried out in a football hold as we leave our full cart abandoned in aisle six. Oh the shame!

My mother often reminded me, all through my childhood and everyday since, that when I was around 2, I was (or so she thought) possessed by something unholy.  So convinced was she, that she called in a priest to see if he could exorcise the demons!  I'm happy to report, there was no exorcism that day, but I can now finally and fully appreciate what drove her to such drastic assumptions.

Could it be that this "unholy" spirit is hereditary?  Or is it that every toddler goes through this phase, making parents call priests, drink copious amounts of wine, and doubt their decision to reproduce ever again?  I've gotta believe there is a light at the end of this tunnel, because people keep having babies, right?!

I've talked to many friends and they all are going through something very similar.  "It's just the age," they say.  To which I must ask, through what age should I expect this crazy beast, and when will my sweet Tiny return?

Beast or no beast, Annaliese will still rock fabulous, as her opinion about all matters including her wardrobe are stronger than ever.  While, at the same time, I can feel myself falling down a slippery slope, shamefully donning yoga pants and pony tails. Today was a real low point, at her gymnastics class, when another mom asked me if I was wearing some kind of barret in my hair.  I don't wear barrets, so a little confused I reached up and found a Minnie Mouse sticker plastered to my hair/forehead...absolutely clueless as to how long I'd been rocking this hotness.

Here's hoping when Annaliese returns, so does my dignity and self-respect.