Monday, November 09, 2009

Ezra turned two in late August, and almost overnight our easy-going, happy child turned into an irritable, tantrum-throwing, non-sleeping goblin.  I don't understand it.  The smallest thing--often imperceptible to Nell or me--can send him spiraling into a sea of uncontrollable wailing.  Nothing consoles him.  And he feeds off our frustration.  It is like having a newborn again, only worse because in moments of lucidity, Ezra is a wonderful boy.  Knowing that he doesn't have to "lose it" and that he has the potential for warmth and happiness makes his outbursts--which can last hours on end--all the more difficult to take.

Sorry for the rant.  But it's 4:45 a.m. on Monday morning, and we've been up for awhile with the boy, who is still screaming at the top of his lungs.  Sigh.

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