Emmett John is a very angry little guy. Understandably so, however, that doesn’t change the fact that he can’t go through life that way. I mean no one wants to be angry forever. Plus he’s so angry with no way to express himself that he lashes out…at me. He doesn’t lash out at anyone else, just me.

It’s crazy. He:

  • hits
  • pinches
  • bites
  • punches
  • scratches
  • slaps

me. Plus he has this scream…it’s horrible. It’s high-pitched, long-winded and just grates…it kills me every time. Especially when I already have a migraine…forget about it.

The physical abuse is what really and truly gets to me though. I don’t know if it’s because of my history with Nick or because he doesn’t abuse anyone else that way. But I’m starting to feel just the least bit unloved.

Now he hits his brothers. But that’s a brotherly-completely- age-appropriate thing, his Help Me Grow Case Manager Tiffany said so. He doesn’t go after them with the vengeance he seems to come after me. He’ll come to me, arms up appearing to be an adorable 22 month old little boy. Then when I pick him up he attacks me! Literally. He begins by punching me in the cheeks, these little baby punches that quickly turn painful. Then he pinches. And it quickly swirls out of control from there. Dr. H had told me to

  1. Tell him “NO” in a stern voice with the “angry Mommy face”.
  2. Put him down.
  3. Walk away and “ignore him” for a bit.

whenever he bites or scratches or hits etc me. Yeah, I do that. It has absolutely no effect whatsoever on him. He doesn’t care. He walks off. Does his own thing until the “punishment” is over. And then is thrilled when I pay attention to him again – since I obviously can’t ignore him forever.

I don’t know what to do.

I am already in muscular pain to some extent everyday of my life from the Fibromyalgia. Then you add a 2 year old (for all intents and purposes) hurting and injuring me on top of that, at every available opportunity. I don’t know if I can survive that.

I’m already so far over my limit. I’m so close to my person edge. I don’t know if I can take much more. I know there are sensory issues at play here. I know he can’t talk and really can’t communicate for all intents and purposes and that much frustrate and anger him but I can’t continue to be his outlet for that anger and frustration. It hurts too badly.

Perhaps I should feel loved that he turns to me Or honored that I’m the one he chooses? But I don’t. I just hurt. I’m tired of my doctors looking at the injuries he inflicts and thinking I’m self-injuring – because I know that’s what they think. I tell them where the injuries came from – they don’t believe me. I’m not stupid. I can read their expressions and the fact that they are feverishly taking notes but never again mention the marks and injuries.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know how to stop him. I don’t know how to get him to stop any of these dangerous and negative behaviors. He fell down the stairs – most people would have some degree of fear or apprehension about going up and down the stairs after a fall like that. Not Mr. Emmett John. He just keeps screwing around on the stairs. We. Can’t. Get. Him. To. Stop. We are consistent. We are strict – as “strict” as possible with a 22 month old. We say “No”. We do everything we are supposed to do but it doesn’t work.

I don’t know what to do.

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