The Screaming...Make It Stop!

Some of you may have noticed that I didn’t post at all last week. It’s because I couldn’t muster the energy to do much of anything beyond exist for several days for reasons that I never would have guessed possible.

Often in my writings here on the blog, I attempt to concentrate on the more positive side of parenting. I try to bring the levity. This week, though, I’m concentrating on an obstacle I didn’t even know existed.

The screaming.

Oh, god, the screaming.

Why didn’t anyone tell me this existed? I know that not every kid goes through this phase, but someone could have mentioned that it might happen. You know, as a possibility. Apparently all of the other parents were in a conspiracy to hide this bit of information, afraid that it would scare non-parents away from having their own little saplings.

Consider this your warning.

The screaming. It will hunt you down.

On and off over the past month, we’ve been dealing with an insane, ear-splitting shriek from my son. He’s discovered it, he loves it and no one is going to take it away from him. He uses it for a universal communication, whether that message be happy, sad, angry, tired, hungry or excited.

We did notice a pattern to some of the screaming that we tried to adjust. Because we’re moving soon, we have a few boxes around. There was one in particular that he like to use as his soapbox, gleefully standing; allowing his diaphragm to really open so he could let the world know his grievances. As soon as we saw him crawling towards that box, we knew what would come next. We quickly dubbed it “the screaming box.”

So we decided to do an experiment. Was it the box itself that he liked or was it the placement of the box? It was sitting right next to our kitchen island and near a hallway that would echo his voice. So we moved the box to the other side of the room and moved our small ottoman into the position where the box was. Here he is enjoying the screaming box in its original position and starring in a remake of the Jacob’s Ladder movie poster.

Something unanticipated happened. He found the new placement of the original screaming box and gleefully continued its use. However, he also used the ottoman for a good number stand/scream sessions too. So we effectively doubled the number of places that he would shriek. Successful experiment. Failed solution.

At least we got goofy-looking pictures of him out of it. We can torment him with these later in life. Sweet sweet revenge.

We just took both the box and the ottoman away and it did help reduce the screaming a bit. There’s just something about standing while screaming that makes it extra enjoyable for him.

We’ve been living in a house filled with horror movie scream queens- except it’s my ear drums and concentration that are being murdered. At its peak, as a rough guess, he would be screaming every 3 to 5 minutes... for days on end. I could loan him out for the government’s “enhanced interrogation” program.

According to several sources, including our doctor and a few parenting books, the best way to combat the screaming is to just ignore it. And, yes, of course, when the baby is screaming, the first thing you do is make sure it’s not in any sort of distress. The babies are often doing it for attention and any kind of reaction, even scolding, they interpret as encouragement. So we’ve been doing our best to ignore it. It’s kind of amazing, though, how innate the desire to discourage the behavior is. There have been several times where I’ve told him to stop before realizing I should be ignoring the behavior.

Two weeks ago, we thought the phase was nearly over. The frequency and volume of the screams was decreasing at a significant rate. Our house was blissful. That was about three weeks into this whole endeavor already and we were happy for the reprieve.

How naive we were.

Last week, he picked it back up and reconnected with it like a long lost puppy back from the grave. He cherished screaming like he hadn’t previously. It was a new, previously-undiscovered-by-mankind-level of noise. It drilled through my skull much more than any of his crying ever has. It sapped me of all my energy. I got headaches, attempted to get some work accomplished (with not much luck) and continued to do my best to ignoring it.

It’s starting to lessen again over the past two days and I’m getting hopeful. Perhaps I shouldn’t allow myself such feelings because he may dash them once again. But I have to feel as though it’s going to end soon. I need this, man. Don’t take it away from me.