Dear Satan,

What have you done with my beautiful, well-mannered, loving, boy?! If the way Brady has been acting lately is any indication that he, like you, has fallen from grace, then I need an exorcist and STAT!

Looks innocent enough, right?!

Over the course of the last week, you have somehow enticed Brady to use my own tennis shoe as a weapon against me, as well as slap me across the face, kick me repeatedly in the leg, and punch me in the jaw. He has done some of the aforementioned in front of other people so my first instinct, to freak out, has had to be squelched as to not appear like a psycho, completely out of control parent...even though that's exactly how I feel.

Well-meaning friends and family have offered explanations for his behavior: "He's jealous of Ella;" "He wants your undivided attention;" "He's acting out his frustrations," but I blame YOU. The worst part is that you've managed to trick me into believing Brady wants to make amends, when, in reality, he has other intentions: The other night, Ella was asleep, Zach was at practice, and it was just me and Brady. Right before bed, he was giving me Eskimo kisses and we were laughing while he practiced his winking (it really is adorable!). All was well until he balled up his fist and literally punched me right in the face. There was nothing I could to prevent--or predict--it. And that's the thing: if I can figure out what sets him off, I'm pretty good at diverting his attention elsewhere. My go-to discipline tool is distraction and until now, it's worked pretty well. This, however, is uncharted territory. Territory from which I fear Brady (and my face...) may not return unscathed. And again, I blame YOU.

Is that remorse I see on his face??

Only the devil himself could send my loving toddler into such a horrendous downward spiral that it puts me in tears. I actually had to call in reinforcements and ask my parents to keep him over night on Monday. That gave me a bit of reprieve, a chance to come back to center, but the second I saw the kid on Tuesday, he started all over again. I have been dreading baseball season because I always miss Zach and it's obviously easier to raise 2 kids with 2 parents, but now, the impending season is my nemesis for a whole different reason: I fear for my sanity.

He is super cute, though...

When we were growing up and my brother acted like a monster, my dad would say, "I love you because you're my son, but I don't like you right now." I remember thinking, "DAD! How could you say something like that?!! You'll scar him for life!" But now I get it. I sooooooo get it.  Granted, my brother was a teenager when he was the recipient of those words, which tells me I'm in for a long road of wine and therapy, but if nothing else, I'm learning that I am clearly not the first--and I'm surely not the last--who has endured a rough patch as a parent. Despite this bumpy road we're currently traveling down, I know that I will eventually get my sweet boy back. So, Lucifer, you can keep trying to lure him to the dark side, but I know in my heart of hearts that this, too, shall pass. And in the meantime, I foresee many more sleepovers with Gram and Pap. Praise the Lord for grandparents who live 2 miles away. Amen!