I used to like thunderstorms.

I used to love thunderstorms. That bold rumbling and the flashes of wild colored electricity in the darkness thrilled me every time. The cool breezes and the refreshing rains soothing after the overheated summer days.
But now I dread them.

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Even a little storm like this one. As soon as there is a little rumble or a short flash the gauntlet begins.
My son is terrified of storms.
He doesn’t cower and want to be held. He ricochets screaming and crying at the top of his lungs to “go away!”
His whole body shakes. He jumps up and down and runs from window to window screaming at the storm.
There is no comforting him or calming him. There is only waiting and reassuring him as calmly as possible that the storm is indeed going away and he will be safe and fine.
If we’re lucky the storm is short. If we are really lucky it happens while he is asleep and misses the whole thing.
I just wish there was something we could do to convince him that storms aren’t going to hurt him and that he doesn’t need to panic.
My poor baby.