long days

There are days when I think I have it all together. I ignore the tantrums, acknowledge and praise positive behavior, stay upbeat and engaged. Sometimes I not only remember to wear make up - I even take it off before I go to bed.

But no matter how in the groove I am, there is one scenario that has me spinning around like the lady in the Calgon commercials from the 70's, frozen to the spot with my hands on my cheeks.

It looks something like this:

TJ: screaming for some reason - wants her sippy cup, I won't let her suck on Clorox, whatever.
Lucy: fingers in ears, wincing from the sensory overload, starting to lose it.
Me: runs to TJ, tries to get her to stop crying. Fails miserably and only makes TJ madder and louder.
Lucy: starts shaking with sobs.
Me: runs to Lucy, comforts her, as she cries that her ears hurt.
TJ: outraged that somehow her screaming has ended up with Lucy being the comforted party, so screams louder.
Me: Stares blankly at TJ screaming while I hug Lucy, paralyzed.

This doesn't happen all that often, but when it does nothing makes me feel more helpless and impotent. Watching all the sobbing and screaming feeding off of itself in a vicious cycle, it's kind of like an otherwordly experience where you see it all from above but can't affect the outcome no matter what. How can you possibly manage a kid with sensory processing disorder in a house where every so often someone will start screaming in her ear for no apparen reason?

I swear to god, the next time it goes down this way, everyone is getting M&M's until all crying subsides. M&M's are the closest thing I have in my arsenal to a tranquilizer gun.