Battered Mom

Look closely, and you'll see two swollen scratches under my right eye, a scratch on my nose, and one at the base of my neck. They aren't from my cats (usually those scratches are on my arms) or from walking in to furniture (which I've been known to do, but usually those take the form of bruises on my legs). These facial scratches are from Chuckie.

Who is Chuckie? Chuckie is Charlotte's evil alter-ego. Most of the time she's sweet, cuddly, clingy, and loving. But several times a day she gets this gleam in her eye, and Chuckie attacks. Usually it starts by her hugging me, and then she pulls back and wallops me in the face. It's sometimes a slap, and sometimes a scratch. I never know when it's coming.

My pediatrician says that sometimes toddlers can't figure out how to express their love for you, so they resort to biting and hitting. How charming.

When she does it, I sharply say, "No!" and move her away from me. If I were to do that to Gavin, he would fling himself on the floor and melt into a puddle of tears. But Chuckie thinks this is downright hilarious, and rushes back to me to hit again.

The worst part, other than the ridiculous-looking scratches on my face, is that she now has begun hitting Gavin when she's frustrated. (He totally takes it, but one of these days he's going to haul off and smack her!). Also, Gavin sees her hitting me, so now he's hit me once or twice too.

She doesn't do it to any other adult; not Michael, not my mom or dad, no one. I think it's a little bit of a game at this point, and I am certain she'll grow out of it. But for now, if anyone asks, tell them I...uh...walked into a door.