It’s time to regroup, to write out and process a little.
Last night was godawful. This morning was horrendous. Normally when we get to daycare I stay to get Cameron’s boots and coat off and put away, and give him a hug and kiss. This morning was so awful that when we got there I guided him (hauled him) through the door and simply said “Bye” as I turned and left. I did stop and quickly explain the situation, but I had had it with my little scream monster. So that’s where things are.
Now, a reality check.
He was not staying awake last night on purpose. Something was preventing him from falling asleep. I don’t think that this is a product of missing Betty – perhaps that is contributing, but I doubt it’s the root cause. Out of desperation since he kept saying he didn’t feel good (often used as a stall tactic), I gave him some advil, and in half an hour he was asleep. Sort of. A loud and fussy sleep, but not screaming for Mommy. This morning was awful because of lack of sleep, for both of us. He dragged his feet, we didn’t have time for time out so I threatened that we wouldn’t get hot chocolate if he didn’t do as I asked. He didn’t do it. I counted to three, serenaded by screams. Done. No hot chocolate. This meant that the screams continued. By the time we were approaching daycare he had forgotten why he was screaming, and had moved on to other ‘reasons’.
He’s back to saying that lions (or now snakes) are biting him. Does this mean he’s hurting? Maybe growing pains? That would explain how ravenous he was at night. Maybe those teeth? Ugh, every other fuss and tantrum in the last two years have been blamed on teeth that haven’t yet appeared, so I am reluctant on that one. It’s at the point where if someone says, “maybe it’s his molars,” I’m likely to snap at them that it is NOT. Irrational? Of course.
Here’s my game plan for tonight. Home quickly, no stops on the way unless there’s activity for him to watch at the fire hall. Half an hour of playing together, with a timer set, then a quick and easy supper: broccoli soup and chicken strips. Bath. Advil. Story. Bed. After the usual and acceptable call-backs, I’ll sit at his door and read my book, but not go in and not engage in discussion.