Over the last few nights we have had the pleasure of encountering a new type of Dylan. The screaming type.
Take last night, for example: waking up at 1:30 (a very AM 1:30), we have had ourselves the pleasure of listening to Dylan scream his guts off up until he exhausted himself to sleep on our bed at around 4:30. When I say scream I mean it; this weren't the usual cries of a baby under pain (and Dylan is, indeed, sick). Instead, it was the shouting of a baby wanting his way.
Yes, we've landed on the age of the tantrum. Thing is, the time of night being the way it was even Dylan didn't know what his tantrum objectives were. No matter what we did and what we tried he just kept on shouting (with a couple of slight breaks, such as when I switched the radio on and offered him some competition for his noise).
What do you do in these situations? Well, who knows. Thing is, I would be lying if I was to deny that amongst the thoughts passing through my head was the idea of strangling. No, I don't think I should be arrested tomorrow and no, I don't think there is any danger of Dylan suffering any sort of abuse; I fully recognize that this is a part of a struggle where the baby tries to secure as many parenting resources as possible and I am fully in control of myself. I also fully recognize Dylan is not someone we can reason with yet.
All of which does not mean that when he behaves this way he is not a major pain.
I just hope this will not turn into a habit. I hope it stops when Dylan recovers, otherwise we will be total wrecks within less than a week.
So what am I trying to say here? Not much more than demonstrating yet again that parenting is a pain, a task where the cost/benefit analysis clearly shows the parent in the red.
At the risk of repeating myself, I warn you all to be very skeptic of those who blabber on how rewarding the rearing of children is. Liars the lot of them, a bunch of people that live in denial and do their best to convince themselves of some delusion.