I would really like this flailing stuff to go. It just isn’t working for me.

It doesn’t happen all the time but, lately — like, yesterday and this morning — it has been happening a lot. Flailing accompanied by whining that quickly becomes crying. And it, well, it sucks. It is just too much.

Now, I am fully aware that I recently mistook the Little Jobber’s molar pain for the end of the world, which sent me spiraling down the tunnel of paranoia. So, I will not assume that he is flailing and whining and crying simply to drive me down that other tunnel, the tunnel of insanity. However. It could seem that way. On first glance. Or second glance, even.

On third glance, it appears that he is frustrated. He knows what he wants, but can’t tell me. Sure, he can walk over to the refrigerator and try to open it. And, I can gather he wants something from there. But, he can’t say, “Mom, I would like to have a piece of cheese and, perhaps, a dried apricot. And while we have the door open, can you please let me see what’s hiding in the back of the crisper? I’ve always wanted to know . . .”

Nope, he can’t say that. And so he becomes frustrated and then things go downhill from there.

Luckily, he bounces back well and the flailing accompanied by whining that quickly becomes crying usually subsides within a minute.

But that minute? I could do without it.