Okay, so Calvin is sweet, soft and mild. But I guess, like any kid, he's also a little monster at times. I often wonder how long can I take his screaming.

Calvin's screaming echoes so loudly I can practically feel my eyeballs rattle. I can’t hear myself think much less hear what anyone else has to say. And there’s really no stopping it because, either Calvin doesn't understand my pleas or, more likely, he can't control himself. The screaming mostly comes when he is lying on the changing table, in his car seat, or in the grocery cart. Recently, it has started happening in the johnny-jump-up, too. I have no idea if his screams are the product of painful gas, excitement, irritability, discomfort, frustration, seizures or drug side effects. Perhaps it's even some sort of seizure activity in and of itself. My gut tells me, however, that it's the damn drugs. But whatever it is, it is unsettling to say the least. After a day of it I'm exhausted, as if I've been battered by gusty, gale force winds for hours.

Sometimes Calvin’s screams are ear-piercingly clear, high notes that soar and dip like an operatic soprano. Other times he yells coarsely, as if being accosted, and I wonder if some sort of apparition is causing his outrageous howling. Still other times he scrunches his face into an elfin grimace, his teeth clenched and lips peeled back like a vicious dog in a corner, and he unleashes a dreadful medley of screeches that have no right coming from a kid so sweet, soft and mild. A few things can stop it—if only for a moment—the most reliable being a bout of tickle-kisses. And so, as one might expect, I begrudgingly abide with this remedy, and my little terror, my mini monstrous Mr. Hyde, instantaneously becomes sweet Dr. Jekyll until, of course, I stop.

So for now, at least, and as long as Calvin suffers seizures and has to take powerful mind-altering meds, we'll have to put up with his screaming and insert healthy doses of doting antidote, and too, as one might expect by now, the occasional F-bomb.

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