Morale Needs to Improve

Starting the day with one eye barely cracked open and a Tiny Dictator already whining right into your ear is not the best way to start one's day, much less the week.

One of the parts about parenting that I loathe the most is 'Mean Mommy'.  Immediately having to become 'Mean Mommy' before I have even placed a foot on the bedroom floor never mind had my morning coffee is not going to win you any prizes.  Yet, here we are another start to a day beginning with crying.  I still don't know what she was so upset about. I never could get it out of her.

I wrote about the whining a few months back. I was at a loss, as was H.  The day after I wrote that post TD miraculously turned herself around. We breathed a sigh of relief that the terrible phase was over and moved on with our lives, finally feeling content for the first time in a few months.  We find ourselves back in the thicket of the whining woods.  We are lost in the dark as to what to do and finding that nothing we try eliminates it.  I'm sure that the idea of another sibling, a tired and sick mother does not help and has only caused this issue to resurface.  I feel to blame. 

And I still don't know what to do.  Being calm and explaining things ad nauseum doesn't work.  Talking about what we need and expect her to do beforehand doesn't work.  Time outs and punishments where toys and play time with friends or TV being taken away have no effect on her.  The freak outs, tantrums and all out scream-fest still occur.  What else is there?  Spare me the books you want me to read, if any.  I don't have the time.  I need advice and tried and true practices that worked on your child.  Muttering that "the beatings will continue until morale improves..." is only funny to H and I for so long. I also don't love the idea that I feel like I'm living with the little girl from the Exorcist, regardless of the fact that they share a name. 

 

The Chateau Whinery

If you see me with my shoulders hunched up, gritting my teeth and only smiling during my thirty second vacation, it is probably due to the fact that I live with "Wendy the Whiner".

Holy hell. The three's. Are they over yet?

I had to laugh when I read this post (it is A LOT like possession) because this last year has been tough. Really tough. I feel like I'm climbing Mt. Everest and my boots have no spikes. It's all uphill ice and I keep slipping back to base camp one. No matter what "techniques" we employ the whining continues.

"The beatings will continue until morale improves." No, not really but that quote runs through my head and H's more often than not.

It's not just whining when she doesn't get her way, which I understand is frustrating. Trust me, I would like nothing more than to go out to run the bazillion and one holiday errands and gift shopping I have to do and not do it on a Saturday when everyone else is out there. That makes me want to whine. And cry, then slump into a crumpled and defeated heap. It's that she whines no matter what. Then immediately acts like she's been shot, has a deflated lung (that half body sag that kids are prone to) and goes all out into a massive flailing limb tantrum. Sometimes I wonder if she has a secret stash of PCP lying around somewhere. It's that bad.

The whining- in the store, at home- no room is safe from the whining, the car, restaurants, public restrooms. It is as if every place in the world has a free to whine zone. No roaming fees apply.

Everyone told me to watch out for the three's. We can't say we didn't know it was coming. Alright, we can. We had no idea our cute, funny toddler would be like this. No matter what we do, what we give her, how much patience and time we give her, it is never enough. It is not right. It is as if we are physically hurting her and I hate to say this and admit to it. I'm not even sure H would cop to this, but sometimes I don't like her. I don't want to be around her. I'm sick of her. I have strings of days where she has worn me down to such a small bit I just can't handle her for one more minute. It makes me feel awful and reduces me to tears.

I miss my sweet, funny girl. I want to enjoy her and take her places. I want to read stories and sing songs without complaining and that whine. I want to have fun with her. To enjoy watching her grow as a child. This whining thing? It is making is incredibly tough to do these things. It as if we are stuck on repeat every day.