“The Beast” — A History Lesson

I’ve recently had a few comments on my blog that I would consider less than kind.  Normally, negative comments don’t bother me.  You’re entitled to your opinion and you are more than welcome to disagree with me anytime you want.

If you have an intelligent argument against whatever awesomeness has escaped my brain, feel free to tell me.

Someone, I think it might have been The Pioneer Woman, read my blog post about why she can suck it and told me, “If you don’t like The Pioneer Woman, don’t write about her.”

That’s probably the most nonsensical comment I’ve ever read.

If I only wrote about things I like I’d be limited to chocolate, wine and tequila, Virginia Slims Man when he’s not ticking me off and my children on good days.

Plus, that commenter (Ree?) completely missed the point of that post.  My issues with the PW aren’t with her.  They’re with me and my general suckiness compared to the PW’s general greatness.

I still don’t like The Pioneer Woman, though, and I refuse to pin any of her recipes on Pinterest.

The other comment, the one that really chapped my flabby ass, was the comment by some woman who happened upon my blog post about The Beast being in gymnastics and said that it was obnoxious for me to refer to my child as an animal.

This bugged me for several reasons.  First of all, would she be as judgmental if I referred to my child as “Kitten” or “Little Monkey”?

Secondly, why on earth do some people feel the need to judge other moms based on little internet blips?  If you saw me day in and day out and had major issues with my parenting, I could understand judging me.  But to read one blog post about the insanity that ensued when The Beast was in gymnastics and to call me obnoxious?  Because you don’t like his nickname?

My blog is a judgment of me.  Even when I express anger and frustration at how I compare to other parents, it’s always a judgment of me and my parenting, my issues, my struggles.  I can’t imagine any reason to get on some other mother’s case for the decisions she makes in her parenting.  And even if you read my blog every time I post and you and I disagree with one another on absolutely every parenting issue we face, I’d never call the parenting decisions you make for your children obnoxious.

But the other thing that bugged me is that this woman called me obnoxious having absolutely no idea why The Beast is nicknamed The Beast.

So — while I in no way believe I owe an explanation to “Sandy” for my child’s nickname and while I’m pretty sure she will never read this blog again, which sucks because she and I were totally going to be BFFs, I just know it — in case you’re interested, here’s a very brief history of how The Beast became The Beast.

Contrary to what some may think, his nickname is in no way a reference to the biblical beast.

You see, from the moment he could walk, The Beast has been incredibly physically adept.  Where my older son was afraid to climb the rock wall on our backyard fort and wasn’t able to successfully do so until he was about 6, The Beast started climbing that thing at 18 months.  He climbed it like he had been doing it his whole life.  The Beast is capable of pull-ups, while the rest of us can only dangle from the pull-up bar.

And he’s fast.  He’s so very fast.  Every human being who has ever had to chase him has commented on his incredible speed.

As a result of his crazy physical abilities, the child has developed a physical structure akin to a miniature bodybuilder.  His quad muscles and calve muscles are unbelievable.  He is a rock.

One time when The Beast was displaying his insane muscles and completing one of his feats of strength, one of my brothers-in-law said in awe, “Man, he is a beast!”  And it stuck.

I think the reason it stuck was because of the sheer irony that this tiny, tiny toddler who barely registers on the height scale when measured by his pediatrician is capable of these ridiculously impossible feats.

So there you have it.   The history of “The Beast.”

Nothing biblical or savage about it.

That being said, the kid can totally be Apocalyptic-y.


16 thoughts on ““The Beast” — A History Lesson

  1. I thought you should know I am practically your blog stalker. I have you bookmarked on my browser and click on it everyday (sometimes multiple times during the dry spells). I had a high maintenance little one too and your blog makes me so thankful that she was not high energy to go along with it. Your writing makes me want to laugh with you, commiserate with you and generally want to pour you your next drink. I am sure the Beast’s future wife will love to see these posts (wait until after the I Do’s or maybe even after they have their first child). Thank you for the laughs and the Beast’s name explanation. I assumed Biblical beast myself, since he is a super villain after all, but I never judged. Oh and my high maintenance kid is now 16 and as low maintenance as they come. I just throw a stack of novels and a bag of Pork Jerky in her direction and I don’t hear from her for hours.

  2. You know, it doesn’t really matter how you parent or what you write about… someone, somewhere won’t like it and will tell you so. Screw’em. When you try to please everyone, you end up pleasing no one, least of all, yourself.

    Here, have some tequila…

  3. Long-time lurker coming out to play…
    Judgemental comments on blogs by people who tune in for 4 seconds have to rank in the top ten of annoying things. Your blog cracks me up on a regular basis, including your PW post. I happen to like her blog a lot, and I’ve met her, and I still found your post laugh out loud funny. I didn’t feel the need to tell you that you obviously didn’t understand her, blah blah .. it’s YOUR blog, for Pete’s sake…
    I will admit I assumed some apocalypic connection, but your explanation of “Beast” makes way more sense. I have to assume you’ve had comments about calling your toddler a supervillain, too, and how he’ll need therapy, etc, because of the TITLE of a blog. I say those people need to get a life — like your kid’s ever gonna read…
    [Hey, people, that was a joke. Sheesh.]

    • My sister LOVES the PW and we still love each other! You and I can be friends! Surprisingly, nobody has had a problem with me calling The Beast a supervillain. I really thought that would bug people. I guess they can tell from the general tone of the shenanigans he gets into that he will likely overtake the world in some evil plot one day. And hopefully he will remain illiterate so that he’ll never be able to blame me for predestining him to a life of crime. (Your comment cracked me up.)

      • Of course I started reading this blog in the first place because of the title! And your stories prove it to be true, so the critics need to just shut up. You know their kids are demon spawn…it just stands to reason.

  4. I don’t think any parent understands what it’s like until they have a “beast” (or Jackson in my case) of their own. I found my son on top of the refrigerator at 18 months. It was around that time that I realized he was different than other children. I love your sarcasm and that you see the funny side of parenting a little super villain.

  5. Your blog is hilarious. Your imaginative stories are fantastic. If people don’t like what you are doing… They shouldn’t tune in and read it.

    Don’t waste any time on those miserable losers.

    Keep doing what you’re doing 😉

  6. I did not realize that was the reason for the nickname. I assumed it was because he could wreak havoc. With that being said, I thought it was humorous, refreshing and real. You can love your child and at the same time be able to realize that that child can be a handful.

  7. Sorry Sandy felt it was her place to judge you — that kind of crap is exactly why my anxiety meds will forever be my little tiny white BFFs (totally not racist, they just don’t seem to come in any other color… can’t speak for GlaxoSmithKline though – effing drug companies should probably diversify…). My head doc once told me, “It’s none of your business what other people think about you,” and it kind of made me have a little lightbulb moment. Except of course, when they make it your business I guess. Chin up though girl, nobody walks in your shoes but you. You don’t owe her an explanation. Love your blog. ❤

  8. I have utterly ridiculous nicknames for my children. That’s what family members do — give each other ridiculous nicknames. I concur with the other commenters and readers here: don’t let the bastards get you down. Perfect parents are so un-fun. As another mom who finds her children fascinating, challenging, and exhausting, I’d rather hang out with you! (Did that come out wrong?)

  9. *!$% people who don’t “get it” and want to romanticize the challenges of raising children. Keep up the awesome work and thanks for sharing your stories with us!

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