this could be my last post

As I sit here writing what may be my last post, my eyes scan the radius of my office cave to make sure I'm alone. A cold shiver instantly goes down my spine as I glance over at a picture of her......my hit man......my 3 year old daughter. How could this beautiful angelic child that I created and nurtured be so diabolical? All of the pieces are coming together. My daughter has strategically been plotting my death since birth.....but I won't go down without a fight.

It all started 3 years ago. Looking back now I realize that 22 hours of labor wasn't because I was a new mom with bad luck. Nope, that was her first attempt on my life. She thought 'let me wait in here as long as possible so she can starve to death or better yet have a brain aneurysm'. She lost that fight. Then in an effort to cover her tracks, when she couldn't wait any longer, she did the ole' shoulder stuck trick on the trip out with a little chord burst action. Clearly she was trying to cause mass hysteria to take away from her foiled plan.

I think she then realized she needed to be more strategic and calculating. She would spend the next few years winning me over with cute firsts and hugs and kisses. Oh she was keeping her enemy close alright.

But then with the little sister came, she couldn't wait any longer. That's when I started noticing the signs. The slip and fall attempts included: the strategically placed mini shoe and/or toy in my normal path of travel, the intentional bath water splashing all over the floor when I'm not looking and the trickling of sippy cup juice on my hardwood floors. Obviously those attempts have been unsuccessful thus far with only a few bruises and scrapes here and there.

Lucky for my little assassin, I broke my foot a few weeks ago. I haven't been able to pin that incident on her but the case is still open. However this opens a whole new realm of destruction that she can cause.

Most recently she waits until I've taken my boot off to "fall" and scream and need me ASAP. Being the wonder mom that I am, I leap to her rescue, before remembering I'm not protected by the air cast. Try as she might though, I'm still standing, albeit on one leg.

This brings me to last night. Her most calculated attempt thus far. She knows sister little is the worst sleeper and wakes Mommy up in the middle of the night. Sleeping my ass, that little monster has been logging the feeding times to get it just right. She also must have noted that Mommy doesn't put the boot on or turn the lights on when going into the kitchen for the bottle. 3:40 AM and Sleepless Beauty is screaming. I wait a few minutes only to realize it's the real deal. As usual, I push myself out of the bed using my hands and one foot and limp along with one eye still sleeping towards the kitchen. Before I can even react, I'm sent flying into the air as I run into something hard and land on something even harder. That little witch. She created the great wall of Gabby with her table, chairs, seat, toys and high chair. There was no way I could have escaped. Luckily, my hand landed first and broke my fall. I quickly looked over into my would be killers room and all I saw were to white slits for eyes staring at me. Mistake? I think not.

Luck has gotten me this far but it's bound to run out. My time is ticking. I just really hope I make it to see the entire final season of Lost.

the end.