screaming

¹scream

verb \ˈskrēm\

to voice a sudden sharp loud cry

to produce harsh high tones 

to protest, demand, or complain vehemently c : to laugh hysterically

to produce a vivid startling effect 
 - merriam-webster

I am writing this listening to both of my kids screaming with rage in their beds.

There has been a lot of the other kind of screaming (laughing hysterically) this summer but tonight the sharp loud cries are blending into a strange cacophony  that is bordering on melodious. Layna utters a few punched loud cries which are answered by Jonah's longer wails. Tonight is in the top five worst bedtimes at the T household. If only a 3 year old could understand that leaving a friends house does not require mourning that would rival a professional funeral wailers. 

Usually these things pass once the car has been started and we are leaving, but my oldest little one is learning to hold a grudge, and as much as I dislike having to deal with said grudge I admire the tenacity. I am struggling to keep a straight face as she refuses to sit on the toilet, refuses to brush her teeth, and refuses to do much of anything. She just stands in the hall pathetically screaming over and over "I don't want to leave, I want to stay." Never mind, that we've already left and gone and been home for over half an hour.  I have tried all my tricks: Threats, time outs, hugging, the "sorry you made this choice and now you have to live with that choice (ie no bed time stories)".... I'm out of options and really starting to get annoyed. My littlest one is exhausted but has managed to muster enough strength to match every scream with an equal or louder variant from his crib. I'm sure the binky has been dumped unceremoniously under the bed as I hear the cries getting louder and more frequent in intensity.

Not a pretty sight or sound

I'm losing my patience....fast. It's like the pressure cooker has finally gone off and I scream at my daughter "Layna enough. I'm done!!" Oh sweet relief. In the moment it feels so so good. I can breath again. I can hear myself think and I join the melodies of my own two kids. If only I could stay there and scream with them as loudly and fiercely as they are at me. How wonderful that would be.

But instead, I start to laugh hysterically. My daughter continues to kick  and yell at the top her lungs while I try to put her pajama's on. She is determined to let me know just how upset she is. My son continues to answer with his own nonverbal wails from the next room and I can't stop laughing. Not because I'm happy but because if I don't do that I don't know what I'll do. I throw my daughter in her bed as she kicks the blanket off in rage and leave the room to go pour myself a big glass of wine and sit outside to get some distance. 

Well, I survived it. Maybe not gracefully, or in a the-best-parent-of-the-year type of way but sometimes, that's all we can ask of ourselves. My son is currently still screaming but my daughter has calmed and the last thing she said was

"mommy, are you still awake? I just didn't want to leave. I love you"