(My inspiration for this post came from this Writing Prompt over at Write. Blog. Connect.)
Cue the shrill voice. The panicked, “Mooooooom!” Followed by my heart thundering in my chest and sweat breaking out on my forehead. I cannot help but run to this sound of absolute fear and desperation. I’m clumsy and I’m bound to trip and hurt myself on the way, but I run anyway.
I round the corner, gripping the door jamb with my hand, preparing for blood, guts, or worse.
“Mom, she threw my toy at the wall,” said to me, in the shrill voice of my exasperated 10-year-old.
Panting, out of breath, and annoyed, I can rarely respond in kindness in these moments. Anything from dropping a sandwich, losing a toy, not having clean socks, to a busted lip, skinned knee, or bloody nose causes the same melodramatic reaction from my 10-year-old.
Everything that happens sounds like the world is ending. He is wound up tighter than I knew was humanly possible, and he cannot get through a single day without having some earth shattering moment that used to leave me feeling like the rug had been yanked from beneath me.
I warn him that “crying wolf” will eventually mean no one comes. I’ve threatened to take him to the trauma center to see truly traumatic, shrill-voice, panic worthy things, but I don’t believe I should make an example of other people’s trauma and pain in such a way. I’m at a loss for how to help him tone it down. I get the craziest looks in public for my dismissive, annoyed reactions – because when people hear him they become alarmed and think they are witness to a dire situation.
I’m not here to write about some fabulous advice I have, or to help other mom’s over this hurdle. I’m here to write about how lost I am in the middle of this. I prefer to keep things fairly even – mild lows, mild highs, nothing too catastrophic. I have a level head in the face of emergency, and I can usually think my way through anything. I do not know how to help someone who naturally panics all the time calm down, turn on their thinking brain, or function more rationally.
I hope my boy finds himself a long career on television, because he can over-sensationalize absolutely anything.
If you have any advice or suggestions for me and my melodramatic 10 yr old, comment below. I would love to hear your thoughts!
2 thoughts on “Melodramatic”
As a mother I thought my job was to teach my children. Such as this is how you use a spoon, this is how to behave properly and so on.
After my amazing children left our home and I reflect on our lives, it seems that children taught me more than I taught them. Some of my biggest life lessons came from my children.
While we are parents and are responsible for teaching children things- maybe this is a lesson for you to learn more than him?
I do not have all the answers either- just trying to help think ‘outside of the box’ What could you learn from this melodrama? What can you receive from his normal panic? While I understand desiring calm, quiet and less panic- do you need to be more alarmed?
It took me getting old and out of the picture to see some of the lessons I learned from a young girl who was unable to breath. It took me as much time to see the things I learned from her younger sibling. So no I do not see your lesson in this- I just see there is a possibility of it.
I love the response- Rescue Remedy- I just wonder who takes it by the gallon- him or you? 😉
I’ve often wondered what I’m supposed to learn from his frantic antics. I have to be honest, it’s hard to find a lesson through the annoyance – and unnecessary alarm/panic really annoys me. But then I worry that one day, the panic will be legitimate and ignored because I’ve become so used to it, so I do try to take the time to listen to what the problem is before shooing him off. (And at this point, the Rescue Remedy is half & half!)