Steve’s family is great at sharing information through email. If someone comes across something (an article, story, video, etc…) they find interesting they take the time to share it.

Last week my brother-in-law sent me an email with the subject: Mental Health Benefits of your blog.

He came across a quote in the book, “Myths of Happiness” written by one of the advisory board members of his company Hapacus, Sonja Lyubomirsky. In relationship to the stress of parenting, he shared this quote: “Emotionally expressive writing has clear hedonic, physical, and cognitive benefits–benefits that are likely to mitigate the unrelenting stress of parenting, the anguish of family traumas, and of balancing our own needs and obligations with those of our partners, children, and career.”

I’ve always enjoyed writing – but I wasn’t aware of the benefits it may bring to me personally, such as a relieving stress. So if this is the case – there may be more expressive writing in my future. Like now.

I know I’m not alone in this – but toddlers that can’t communicate drive me crazy. They scream for milk. They do the same for their blanket. There’s no difference when their brother has taken their toy. A high pitched scream, as if their fingers are lodged in the door. This is the story of our life right now. This guy is giving us all a run for our money. (Prepping for a scream) The funny thing is, he knows how to say words. But no matter how many times we repeat the word and he repeats the word, when push comes to shove, he never uses the word, he screams. I will be in the other room and hear it. My first assumption is that Hunter has pinned him to the floor. When I enter the room and see Hunter outside I realize Bennett is screaming uncontrollably for a vitamin. Seriously…that much noise for a vitamin. My skin crawls hearing that sound.

I’m doing my best to ignore him and not give in, but I’m becoming soft in my years of experience as a parent because I have been caught saying, “Just give him whatever he wants to make him stop screaming.” Yes, I realize that is a really bad approach. And I’m now back peddling quickly. But sometimes at 4:30 in the afternoon when I’m trying my hardest to maintain my inner peace as I make dinner I will do anything to make the annoying sound go away.

I’m doing better with it. He’s learned the directions, “Go to your room” which is where he ends up when the screaming doesn’t let up. I’ve been thinking for months now that we’ve got to be close to the end of this stage and then someone offered a horrifying reality. “Even when he learns to talk, he still might be a screamer, some kids are.” Just the thought of that increases my anxiety. We’re thinking positively around here. It’s just a stage. A stage that he might spend a good amount of time screaming in his room; which is far enough away from the kitchen that I can’t hear it!