Mothers build train tracks that an engineer would be proud of.
Mothers watch Tangled on repeat. Know all the words to Max & Ruby.
Mothers can change a diaper in their sleep.
Mothers don’t sleep.
Mothers wipe tears & kiss booboos.
Mothers trade in bikini bods for bottles.
Mothers tape pictures to their refrigerator.
Mothers play doctor, house, & pirates.
Mothers get kicked out of their beds.
Mothers pour juice & cut up apples.
Mothers lay their entire upper body over their two-year olds ears to protect them from the terror of the fireworks.
Not cover their face with duct tape.
I am sadden, angry & confused that justice was not served for little Caylee today. Right before the verdict was read I switched over to the news channel & watched the split screen of Casey, her parents, & various photos & videos of the little girl lost. I sat on the edge of my chair heart stopped waiting for someone to speak up for the baby.
But that didn’t happen.
June 2008 I was pregnant. I was washing little onesies, doing my Bradley exercises, craving potatoes & pineapples, and anticipating the arrival of my Phoenix. And he’s here now. He’s almost 3. And he drives me wild. Wild with his cuteness. Wild with his defiance. Wild with his precociousness. Wild with his energy. Wild.
But never could I ever imagine a life without him. Never could I imagine a moment I would want to hurt him purposely or accidentally. I’d lay myself down on the 101 highway if I had to for him. I’d run into a burning building to rescue him. I’d bury myself if I ever lost him, if I ever had to bury him. But Casey Anthony would not lay her life down. Casey Anthony buried her child willingly. Casey Anthony moved on with her life as if she lost her puppy.
Hug your child tight now. Hug your child extra tight for all the other children who don’t get hugged at night. And say a silent prayer that one day that innocent child will receive justice.
And if I dare say…silently hope that Casey burns in hell.