Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Whiney McWhinerson of Whinersville Whinesconsin

So I may have mentioned in yesterday's post that I love love love me some Mancub. He's cute, he's funny, he's a toddler, so generally he's just plain fun, and yet... there are moments. Those moments are fleeting and rare, but when they occur? I begin to search the house for the hard liquor. These moments all have the same trigger, whining. When he whines it makes me want to peel my face off and remove my eyes with a rusty spoon. I can't take it, it's like fingernails on the chalk board of my soul.


Temper tantrum? I ignore it. Bouts of tears with no apparent cause? I hand the little drama king a hankie and go about making dinner. He gets mad, he gets sad, he gets over it. He's mercurial, that kid of mine. One moment he is happily playing with his toys, and the next he is a screeching howler monkey of rage or woe. His moods shift rapidly and he is expressive. I spend most of these lightning fast mood shifts stifling laughter because, honestly, the kid is cute as all get out even mid temper fit. He's also little, he doesn't have a vast array of words to choose from to express his desires and frustrations, nor does he have a vast amount of patience with us slow-witted adults who don't know what he means half of the time. I try to fix the cause of his distress when possible and let it run its' course if I can't.Where was I? Oh right, whining.

When I say I can't tolerate whining, I don't mean just toddler whining drives me bat-shit bug-nuts crazy. I mean whining in any form from anyone. It.works.my.nerves. So when he is clingy, screechy, and whiney with no good cause (teething is a bitch, yo) I have to remove one or the other of us from the situation; and since I pay the mortgage...well low-man on the totem pole and all. He gets sent to his room. My husband doesn't like it, he doesn't get why it bothers me so much and I threaten to send him to his room too.

The fact is this, whining serves no useful purpose. Children, especially not quite two year old children, don't understand that, but grown ups should. So for future reference and to avoid my sending you to your room I offer you these unarguable whine  related factoids. Whining is not going to make me do something you want me to do if I don't want to do it. It's not going to make your situation any brighter. And finally, whining does not reduce stress, but getting frustrated enough with the ceaseless asshattery to tell someone to bite you arse does, in fact, greatly reduce stress. It's true, look it up.

2 comments:

Colleen - Mommy Always Wins said...

I saw your post title on BlogHer and had to pop on by. I believe I reside in Whinersville Whinesconsin. Well, the Milwaukee area, anyway. A Whinersville suburb, if you will. My 5yo is the biggest whiner on the planet. He could very well place GOLD in the Whiner Olympics. The WHILYMPICS. I must say I agree - shouting back at the whiner in question is typically the best remedy for the person being whined-upon!

Mancub's Mom said...

{snorting with laughter} WHILYMPICS, I love it.