For the past couple of months, I’ve found myself caught up with the Casey Anthony trial. For those not paying attention or who don’t care, she’s accused of killing her almost 3 year old daughter, Caylee. She’s maintaining her innocence and tried to blame her daughter’s death on a fictional nanny and an accidental drowning in her parent’s swimming pool. The trial has been going on for a while now and every day I’m at work I can’t help read nearly every news story I see about it.
From what I’ve read, I’m certain that she did kill her daughter and carelessly disposed of her body. I believe the accusations that she did so because she felt her daughter was holding her back from leading a “normal” life, which is one thing the prosecution is trying to prove by showing her participation in hot body contests immediately after her daughter’s disappearance. I believe it 100% because in a small way, I understand what Casey felt.
Obviously you don’t harm or kill your kid, or anyone for that matter, regardless of how bad you think your situation is. That being said, if Casey felt trapped, I get it. I was a single mom too and I remember feeling stressed out due to my parents and their judgmental attitude towards me and the things I wanted to do. I get how she was frustrated by not being able to go out and party as she used to because she has a responsibility at home. I get the depression a new mom feels, even to the point where some mothers want to throw their kid out a window to make it stop crying or to get some sleep. It’s a bitch when you have a kid at a point in your life when you’re not yet ready to fully grow up.
Most people in that kind of situation, including myself, find ways to deal with it. I sacrificed most of my nights out and instead invited people over so I could have time cutting up with friends while my son slept. I had to quit going to 2 concerts a month and be very picky about which ones I wanted to attend. Even if you have the greatest baby sitter in the world, you just can’t live like you used to once there’s a baby in the house. It changes everything.
In Casey’s case, I think she felt overwhelmed and desperately wanted a way out. Being one of the many who think she’s guilty, I have to wonder why in the hell she didn’t just have an abortion. Even if you’re totally against abortion, you can’t tell me it would have been a worse option than killing a toddler by suffocating her and then dumping her in the woods.
I understand a lot of what Casey must have felt. I sympathize with her. I also hope that jury finds her guilty of first degree murder and whatever else they can tack on and I hope she received the maximum allowed sentence. As a mom, you’re allowed to get pissed off and frustrated at your kids, you’re even allowed to imagine how great life would be without them. But there’s a line, and it’s not even a thin line, more like a brick wall that you have to climb in order to get to the extremes of Casey and other parents who do this kind of thing. There are plenty of opportunities to quit climbing and jump back down to sanity. Once you’re over that wall, you’re lost to this world.
I wish I could end this with a brilliant solution, but I’m fully lost on this one. My son has kept me up at night for weeks on end, stressed me out with bad behavior, frightened me with hospital visits, murdered my social life in a lot of ways, contributed to past weight gain, taken away a “normal” beginning to marriage, and has got me saying “potty” to adults. He has pooped in the bathtub. And peed on me. He has the worse selective hearing in the world. He uses up a huge chunk of my paycheck. He spilled water on the bathroom floor one day and tried to clean it with a tablet you put in the toilet tank, which dyed the floor blue and took me an hour to clean up. Honestly, he can be a pain in the ass.
Still, a hug from him speaks volumes, as does hearing his little voice tell me he loves me. I look in his eyes and see a world of opportunity ahead of him. Seeing him grow and develop new talents and quirks is amazing, I love the kid more than I can say. Not even with a gun to my head could I ever harm that little boy. Someone please explain to me why the fuck this world is so filled with people who can, because I just don’t get it.