parenting

Night Tantrums

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Lying in bed, heart racing the time is drawing near; 12:00 AM, 1:00..

It’s here the the rustling of the covers and the groaning so dreaded. Another night and another tantrum. She cries, screams, and kicks. Hysterical with no option but to leave; we sit in the car until it has passed. Like a storm brewing beneath the ocean waiting to surface it’s ugly colors. The cold, dark January air cools our skin but fails to end the three year old hysterics filling the small space. 


Why does she do this? Why does she act like this? Years have passed and the answer still remains unclear. Countless hours of sitting, holding, squeezing, and yelling. My yelling to make it stop; her yelling I can’t. Why my sweet, beautiful girl. Her huge brown eyes with lashes most just dream of; her white, blonde hair that shimmers in the sun. Why her? Why us?

It is as if she is possessed by something much stronger than herself. A confused head and an aching heart for my child who so often spirals out of control. This gift we have been given; a second daughter. A blessing. 

This can not be normal I continue to ponder as I have been down these roads before. We have another and she does not act like this. Do not compare; as no two are the same. Demons from below stirring about her young soul waiting to explode. Eyes rolled back in her head and flailing limbs surface time and time again. 

The mystery remains and the episodes worsen with every turn of the calendar. Behavior that is certainly not acceptable to society let alone conducive to a pregnant mother that needs rest so her unborn babe can grow in her womb. 

The days are numbered and the panic is setting in. This child she is the second oldest. What example is she setting? Have we parented her wrongly? We need answers and fast as the new baby will be here soon. 

Four children under 7 and earth shaking tantrums. How I hope the light is near or I simply might not survive. 

Tantrums and Self Inflicting Pain

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 Our tiny little tot with brown eyes so wide they melt you from the inside out. Her beautiful blonde hair and long lashes are surely model material. {o.k. I’m a little bias}Then there is that moment you almost can’t recognize her. You know she is there but her fire for life has vanished. She has been taken over. You search but come up empty. Where is my sweet girl; you ask?
A tantrum over something so meaningless a shoe, a piece of clothing, or maybe an afternoon snack. A feeling of complete loss. I can not do anything right. How is it this little girl can make her momma cry day in and day out. I cry on the inside and out. I want to please her and help; but, when she won’t let me in how can I even begin to try?

Time outs on a rug, a spanking here or there, a visit to her room {usually in her crib} in order to restrain her flailing limbs. You look in her eyes and clearly she is not there. Self restraining her and hating the mother you have become. I love children. I love her with all my heart. Why, why must I go through this just to be her mom I cry out? I pray every night just make this end. Make her tantrums stop!


Time in time again I would take her out of her room to find blood. Surely she is banging her head on the crib. What an awful mother I must be putting a child out of control in something that has wood sides? No, I enter her room during one of her moments and what do I find? A little girl crying out in pain. She too clearly wants it to end. A death grip on her gums; ripping and tearing at what soon would be little teeth. She is so young. What would even possess a child to inflict such pain on herself as this? To the point of drawing blood. Surely, this is a joke? I am dreaming. I am afraid not.

  
It is REAL! Very Real!

Down and Dirty (Potty Talk)

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Was she strong willed or a spirited child? Book after book; desperate for information and desperate for answers. I’m not a by the book parent what was I doing? I can’t stand the many labels we place on children, adults, and people in general. Did I need a label to make this better? I’m a behavioral science major with a focus on psychology. I should know this stuff, right? Truth, we are all just human and the question shouldn’t be what label he/she may be but rather how can we help him/her? I am not a medical doctor and never would claim to be one. I have countless hours clocked with working with children {not only my own but 23+ years worth of experience} also including 15 years experience with special needs. Therefore, I’d like to think I can spot something being off when I see it. 

With every passing day that went by I knew in the pit of my stomach something was not quite right; my something is off radar would ring and I would close my ears to its piercing sound. All of K.Bear’s well visits were proving her to be a healthy, growing, beautiful little girl. Why question the professionals? She is healthy; the end!

On the flip side there were so many still unanswered questions I could not seem to shake what child potty trains them self at 1 year old? Why so much “poop” drama as we would say. She ate the same as the rest of us; but, did she need to control that too? A control freak at one? Oh’ man we are in for it.

The days passed, as did the months, and another full year in fact before the pieces would be put together. The “poop” drama seemed to subside {a.k.a extreme constipation} and in fact turned quite the opposite. By the way since we are talking about “bathroom issues” I might also note the color at times was simply just not right. Surely, she must have eaten a popsicle with blue dye for that to occur. However, like any busy parent of now three children I never gave it a second thought. Looking back it was clearly my little girl’s intestinal track screaming for help. Now, was that the ringing bell I could hear?

“Gluten intolerance in children is becoming more and more common. Many parents are not even aware that their child has a gluten intolerance until the symptoms become noticeable enough and potentially disturbing. *

I was almost there. I may have been one step closer and holding the very key to an unlocked, unknown, world. We were clearly on a journey one we were very unfamiliar with. 

*sited from Gluten Intolerance School