Dear Casey Anthony,

Let me start by introducing myself. I am the mother of a two-year-old. And I get frustrated. Like when he refuses to pee on the potty, when he pretends he's a snake on the floor at the grocery store, and when he cries and whines for days on end for no reason. I get frustrated when I'm running late and he insists on buckling his seat belt by himself. I get frustrated when I have to watch the same episodes of Max and Ruby or The Wiggles 55 times in a row. And I get frustrated when he spills his cereal on the floor every single morning and refuses to clean it up. You know what I do? I send him to the Time Out chair for a couple of minutes. I walk away for a little while. I tell him he can buckle it himself next time, and I dance and cheer when he uses the potty. You know what I DON'T do? Google things like "breaking necks", "how to make chloroform" and "death".

What was your two-year-old like, Casey?

Did she mispronounce words in such a way that made you never want to correct her? Mine does. Did she throw a fit because she couldn't eat "chocolate tookies" for breakfast? Mine does. Did she ever crawl up on to your lap for no reason and say things like, "oooh, bee-u-tee-ful dress, Mama" or "I wuv you, Mama"? (Isn't that the best?!) My two-year-old sings the ABC's to me every night before bed, and always messes up in the same spot. He practices his back float in the tub. He says very funny things every single day. He insists that I "watch dis" all the time, and then always shows me the exact same "tricks". Was Caylee's favorite blanket that Winnie-the-Pooh one? My two-year-old has a favorite blanket, too. His is green. It's dirty and smelly and he calls it Meh. That was nice of you to give it to her when she died. She was probably less scared.

Guess what, Casey? They get even better as they get older. They become even smarter, less clingy, and more imaginative. They get themselves dressed, and write their own names. And they become even funnier. But you'll never get to see that.

Caylee's in a better place now. Away from you and your twisted imaginary life. A place where she can eat as many "chocolate tookies" as she wants, and sing the ABC's all day long. She has no duct tape on her face now, Casey.

Enjoy the rest of your guilt-ridden life, Casey Anthony. May you never bear children again.

Sincerely,

A proud Mama who would NEVER hurt her babies