Whine Whine Whine (And All The Jazz)

What is it about whining that has the power to grate at your nerves so exquisitely? When you break it down, what is it really? It's not the words, those repetitive "I Want" phrases that are fixed on an unending loop.  Heck, it's not even the repetitiveness of it, really (although that is annoying on its own).

It's the tone. Nails on a chalkboard would be a more welcome sound. Anytime.

Whining has the power to turn a perfectly articulate child (or adult, I've found) into a blubbering, incoherent fool. Yes. A fool. I'm not going to mince words. (That would be enabling, and that's an issue for another blog).

The girls have taken turns whining today. First it was Caedance, and now Ashlyn is enjoying her spin in the Whine-Mobile. The object of desire is a stuffed animal. "I want it!..buuuutttt, it's all I want....I can't stand not having it......it's just the thing I want....." and on and on and on. Whine. Whine. Whine.

It's annoying. It's draining. It's downright painful.

I want to yell, "Stop! I can't stand it anymore, you're driving me crazy!"

I could do that. But I don't.

Instead we answer with hugs. In our house we've found that the root of all whining evil tends to be a need for one-on-one attention. It's as if the daily struggles of sharing everything get to them both sometimes and there is a breakdown of reason. Sometimes you just need to be heard. In whatever way you can be.

And sometimes you just need to cry. (Because really, not everything is fair, is it?)

After 10 uninterrupted minutes of Mommy or Daddy Hugs, the outlook to life is good again. Reason can be approached. A solution in sight. And even a 6 year old can be rationale once more. For the moment, a compromise has been reached. Caedance will have it for now and Ashlyn get it at dinner time. Who knows what will happen after that. Will Caedance be able to handle the hand off or will she take another joy ride in WhineyTown? Only time will tell.

Or maybe there's enough time between now and then to be distracted by something else, preferably something that we already have two of.

I hope.