The screamer

The boy has developed a new attention grabber: the scream. Oh, sure, he looks cute.

But this new sound is outrageously un-cute. It accompanies this face:

I suppose audio here would benefit you most, but I intend on sparing you. Tonight, he was overstimulated and bedtime was late. So, the scream tonight was our fault. Usually it’s just his way of attempting to get what he wants (which mostly works on me, mainly because the sound literally makes me cringe, but partly because I just don’t like him unhappy).

He is tired. It is nearly 10:00. Nearly two hours past his normal bedtime. Yet, he screams. It is this they’ve got me in a choke hold, I’m not gonna make it, call the people, they’re hurting me, ouch stop scream. Someone walking by an open window on a nice spring night would truly believe the boy was being beaten. What is so confusing, though, is that he is genuinely tired. I know that’s part of why he continues to cry — the frustration of being tired. But why he hasn’t fallen asleep yet is a wonder to me. He has to have worn himself out. Even the scream’s viscidity is lessening. But noooooooooooo he continues.

He is dry. His belly is full. There is nothing pinching or hurting him. This is an outright stubbornness he shares with the middle girl. I believe he’ll fall to his knees involuntarily before he willingly lies down. I suppose it deserves mentioning that I think the tree outside his window is scary to him. It’s the first thing he pointed to when we got into his room for a story, after the story, and when I turned on his night light. Now that the wind is picking up, it’s moving harder, brushing against the glass. This isn’t the first windy night he’s endured, but I think together with already being riled up, it’s just making bad worse.

Wait. It’s quiet. I think he finally surrendered. That or one of those girls tiptoed in to rub his back. If one did, I don’t blame her and I damn sure won’t fuss about it. After all, it’s past their bedtime too.

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