There is something about whining. Something about it that makes me absolutely crazy.
Ladies and gentleman, I have a whiner. I have a kid who reacts to whatever the latest reason I told him “no” (one cookie is enough, please don’t climb on the stove, don’t poke your sister in the eye) with an ear piercing, throw his head back cry or whine or kick or sometimes all of the above. Sometimes, even when he asks for things, he whines. (mooooooooore peeeeeeeeeeeeese)
Unfortunately for me, he isn’t quite old enough yet to understand the concept to “use his big boy voice” or “I don’t understanding whining”. I mean, he is two. And don’t get me wrong, he is truly the sweetest little boy. He keeps an eye on Abby at all times, calls for her when she’s in a different room, brings her crackers and cookies before he gets his own. It’s like that saying or book – when he is good he is very very good, but when he is bad he is……..whiny.
if I’m going to be completely honest, I’m not entirely sure if its the whining that makes me crazy, or my reaction to it. Because I know that I do not react well. It is like fingernails on a chalkboard to me, and after the 2nd or 4th or 239847932th time, I find myself yelling “stop whining!”.
P.S. That doesn’t help. Just in case you were wondering.
Every age has brought with it its challenges, and honestly overall I enjoy toddlerhood much much more than I thought I would. The things they say are hilarious (Miles pointed to my sisters parakeet on my head over the weekend and said “its a bird hat!”), and really, he is just being two.
I just its probably me who needs a few extra deep breaths (and glasses of wine).