Column | Don’t squash that scream
A few months after my little boy turned three, we went to stay with Phuphee for a few weeks. He loved playing in her garden and we would go on all sorts of adventures in the apple orchard that sprawled behind the house. It was a wonderful time, or so it seemed until he would have a tantrum. It would start with something insignificant like him dropping a ball, and from there on it would snowball into hours of crying and screaming. What frustrated me most about the situation was that no matter what I tried, nothing would help or soothe him. Sometimes after hours of trying to distract him, I would begin to get frustrated with myself and end up scolding him. At times, it worked, and while I was grateful that it did, something about the way it ended didn’t feel right. But, I knew of no other w...