When Katie was in second grade, she had a horrible time with anxiety. To the point where she was lying in the middle of the floor every morning, crying and begging us not to send her to school. It was heart wrenching, and by far the most difficult thing I have had to deal with as a parent. In talking with her pediatrician, and later with a therapist, they both assured me of one thing - it will pass.
When Julia was just a few weeks old and would not stop crying, her little legs kicking out from her body, her tiny face contorted in pain from what ailment I did not know, when I walked and walked and walked around in circles until I thought I'd surely wear a hole in the floor, I thought - it will pass.
And now, when Henry screams his ear piercing scream at a volume and frequency that makes me wonder how his throat is not absolutely raw by the end of the day, I think, I have to think, - it will pass.
Because if it doesn't, I will lose my fucking mind.
He is screaming because he doesn't have the words. He screams when he's happy, he screams when he's mad, he screams for attention and for books and for a diaper and for the window rolled down and for everything. Everything. He screams so much some days that I want to cry.
Today, I did.
We were in the car, following a meeting at school (during which he screamed) on the way to drop Katie off at church. He was screaming for...something, it doesn't even matter...and I whipped around and looked at him and screamed just as loud. It served no purpose, made me feel no better, did not seem to phase him, and only frustrated me more. But sometimes the patience, the quiet, the encouragement to "use your words" just gets old and I need to SCREAM.
It will pass.
He is a beautiful, loving, funny, sweet boy. Who likes to scream. It will pass.
2 weeks ago