Screamers and Shriekers: Things that make me want to hide under the bed

My kid is a screamer. He has the amazing ability to reach inhuman decibels, and everyday I find myself surprised that the windows in our house haven't shattered. The high-pitched shrieks seem finely-tuned to make me want to crawl out of my skin, and they are let loose at any (and all) moment.

We begin our day with screaming, usually over closed doors or diaper changes. You'd think we were chopping off toes as opposed to giving the Bear a new diaper. The shit-fits continue on and off for most of the morning, and it sometimes seems like the kid spends a good half of the day in time-outs.

These days my partner and I try to avoid taking the kid out in public because we never know when he'll lose it. It's humiliating and frustrating to be out in public with a poorly-behaved child, especially when that behavior affects others. This week I attempted to take both boys to the mall for the first time in forever, and I was very pleasantly surprised by their good behavior. The big one didn't throw a fit until we were checking out, and I was able to quickly whisk them away to the safety of the van. Our family trip to swim classes that same evening was another story, and we found ourselves giving time-outs in changing rooms for a good twenty minutes after a thirty minute class. Why? Because we took him out of his wet swimsuit, of course.

No form of discipline has worked so far. For a short while we tried spanking, but all that seemed to do was teach the kid to lash out when he was angry (which is even worse than screaming!). These days we use time-outs, but it does little to resolve the problem. Sure, it lets him know that we don't like his behavior and that there is a consequence for that behavior, but time-outs aren't enough of a threat to actually prevent the behavior.

I love to throw around theories about his screaming. My partner and I circle around the idea that it's connected to his expressive speech delay like salivating sharks ready to pounce on anything that wiggles. This morning I suggested that perhaps he's not getting enough sleep at night, because most of his fits take place in the morning, and I can occasionally hear him moving around late at night.

But who knows. Not me, that's for sure.

So what's the point of all this? Just the fact that I have a screamer, and the future looks loud and grim. If you have a screamer you're not alone. It looks like it's time to pull out the earplugs and brush up on the ASL.

Bread and butter

I've always had a thing for making things by hand. For years this translated into costuming and corsetry, and a fairly sizable wardrobe for the Renaissance Festival. But then I got pregnant and suddenly I wanted to make ... bed skirts. And curtains. And baby pajamas. Not to mention baby food ...

But I've never had a desire to cook. Well, that's not entirely true - I've occasionally thought it would be nice if I enjoyed cooking, but I don't. I make brownies from a box, and I have a special talent for burning things in the slow cooker. This past holiday season I was bitten by the cookie bug for the first time in years, and I blame the desire on the fact that I suddenly had a toddler that could help me gobble them up.

And then, out of nowhere, I was blindsided by an alien desire. I wanted to bake bread. Not banana bread or muffins, but regular yeast-and-kneading bread. Making something for my children has always given me a special kind of joy, and recently I started thinking about food in a whole new way.

Yesterday I took the plunge, and the experiment was a success. I used this white bread recipe from AllRecipes.com, and it came out beautifully. My loaves weren't as picturesque as those included with the original recipe, but the process was relaxing and the end result was very tasty.

The original recipe suggests letting the bread rise for thirty minutes in the bread pans before baking, but I ended up letting them sit for fifty minutes before I was satisfied that they would actually bake into loaves. I baked one loaf in a stone pan and one in a metal pan, and they both seemed to bake evenly (although I have yet to cut into the metal loaf.

This satisfying experience has inspired me to take another look at cooking. Next week I'm going to try to make homemade butter to go with more homemade bread, and I have grand plans for homemade pasta, salsa, sweets, and field trips to farmers' markets. Come on spring, my mommy gears are kicking in!