Little Man had a visit with bio mom yesterday. These visits take place during the time he should be napping. This is a deadly combination. Last night was filled with an unprecedented number of tantrums complete with throwing furniture, yelling, hitting, kicking, etc. Last night he woke up at least 5 times. This was after having gone two nights sleeping through the night.
Then this morning the fighting and tantrums continued. He tore paintings off the walls and threw them. He threw a major fit when I tried to dress him. It was so bad I finally carried him to the car with no shoes or socks on so I could put them on while he was restrained in his car seat. I dropped him off at daycare and cried on my way to work. I feel like such a failure when I don’t have the patience I need.
Tonight, rather than making progress, the behavior just escalated. He actually went over to a picture mounted on the wall and and slammed his head into and shattered the glass. He appears to be fine, surprisingly. At least physically.
But I . . . I am completely fried. I feel like the cord of muscles in my back and every nerve in my body was just set on fire and frayed to nothing but jagged edges. See, I can handle crisis, on the outside I’m all calm and gentle as I’m examining heads for injuries. But afterwards I’m screaming inside.
“Dear God, how awful must things be inside this poor, sweet child’s mind that he is breaking glass with his head?!!”
I wish I had some great insight tonight, but really I’m just fried, and frazzled, and frayed like a used up piece of rope. Feel free to say a prayer for Little Man tonight. My heart breaks to see him like this.