Our dear friend Annie Hall coined a great phrase that has become more and more relevant these days. When her friend had a new baby, Annie astutely noted that she was not so unlike a prisoner of war that was being held captive by her “baby terrorist.” “The terrorist” was keeping her friend sleep-deprived. She was no longer able to eat unless “the terrorist” allowed it. She didn’t bathe much anymore and was constantly covered in filth, all thanks to “the terrorist.”

It definitely comes to mind during my mornings at home when I’m starved and I’m pleading with the baby terrorist to stop fussing long enough for me to have something to eat. Or when Greg tells me, “You look good. I’m just not used to you looking good these days…” In that particular instance, the only difference was that I had run a comb through my hair that morning. I was still in sweats. I guess it doesn’t take much to look better than I usually look these days.

Well, I would continue on this post, but the baby terrorist calls.