An outburst like that is the last step of his ultimate frustration and he does it only when all other avenues of communication fail him.
That was the plan…until noon. Suddenly, she remembered that we had movies and ice cream at home.
He used the back of his hand to nudge the iPad back to me. It was his way of saying, “Get out here with that garbage.”
I want to be the fun dad, but I also want to be a good dad. It’s a delicate balance sometimes.
The box is tossed in front of the front door, the bag is almost completely empty, and, mixed between the pieces, are squashed particles of cereal dust.
My son turns television watching into an all-out physical event.
That guilt was because I was still learning the difference between hoping and needing. I was hoping my son would speak. As I’ve come to realize though, I didn’t need it.
I didn’t get mad at him for an impulse that he obviously couldn’t control in that moment. I wanted to. A voice in my head said, “Yo. Freak out.”
When his face lights up, it lifts my spirits in ways I never thought possible.
Sensory issues or stimulation have nothing to do with it. This was my kid wanting what he wanted and whining until he got it.