Well, who told me to open my big, fat mouth! Sure enough, after I got home from work today, my mom and sister informed me that he spontaneously started screaming and throwing chairs! Are you kidding me! Noooooooooooooooo. I gave him a talking to very sternly before we left and headed home. He was quiet and good all evening. Then, just as he was at the sink about to brush his teeth, he let out a spine-tingling shriek right near my left ear! Then he shot out some projectile spit, and it grazed my face. That pissed me off, but I kept my cool. I insisted he sit his butt down, and I ordered him to write sentences about why he did that. Lately, the forced sentence writing has proven to thwart full-blown meltdowns. If I catch it just in time, he will stop to obey the command to "WRITE! NOW!"
|This is what I need, NOW.|
Whew! OK, so now, I will drink a cold bottle of water (since I don't drink-drink), say a few prayers to calm my nerves, and hope that he goes to sleep soon. There's always tomorrow, right? Not all days are rough. I'm grateful for those previous three weeks of peace with my baby.