Every once in a while there are things in life that make me just scratch my head and say hmmmm.  Like child proof pill bottles.  Seriously, who are you kidding?  They are adult proof and I have cursed and thrown many to prove it. 

And box wine.  Who came up with this and where do they live?  Come on, an entire box?  Whose liver do you think I have? 

So when my two year old comes up to me and requests – orders – things from me, I wonder why it has to come out of her mouth as a consistent, persistent, annoying whine?  I have taught her how to speak… so why not just ask?  A simple “Mommy, can I have some milk?” will go a lot further and accomplish a lot more than, “Moooommmeeeeeeeee, I neeeeeeedddd meeeuuuullllkkkkkkk. Ahhhhh – waaaaaaaa.”

But no – there seems to be something magical about the age of two.  Learn to talk, learn to sass.  Learn to say yes ma’am, learn to scream NO!  Learn that Mommy is a seal on a stand who performs for shots, learn to whine.  And whine, and whine, and whine. 

About every little thing. 

“Mommmeeeee – I gotta go poottteeeeee!” 

“Mammmaaaaaaammmaaaa – I neeeedddddd macaroni and cheeeeeesssseeeee.”

“Moommmeeeee  taaaakkkkkeeeee meeeeeee!”

My husband says she gets it from me and in the interest of keeping my marriage healthy and livable, I simply nod and do not remind him that he regresses to a whiny two year old when HE wants something from me too.  But that is a whole different blog so I’ll move on!

It isn’t just the whining that gets me, it is the dramatic flare that accompanies it.  The sad puppy dog eyes that would melt any Mother’s heart…  first thing in the morning, but by noon, after a thousand whines, I am sorry, those eyes are just not sad enough anymore.  The pulling on my shirt to emphasize the important of giving her the blue water cup as opposed to the green one is especially heartwarming.  But the open handed slap…  the one that really hits home the word “NOW”…  is growing on me.  It used to be annoying, but now I see it as a way to assess her strength for slapping the fuzz off a tennis ball.  What?  I can’t rear my own opponents?  I have stretch marks that say I can!

Yes, the whining has become incessive and a true source of my exhaustion and frustration throughout the day.  I realize that is a call for attention and I realize that after I have given in and just accepted it as a personality flaw of hers,  she will wake up one day and have morphed into a high- maintenance three year old.  I will have a whole new set of problem then…  right, my sweet Katie?

As is well documented, I seem to lack the ability to rectify whatever situation that has led to behavior problems and the daily whining marathon is no exception.  I can only assume that when she was barely two, she whined, I responded and being the future president of Mensa that she is, she adopted this type of behavior as a lifestyle.  Why she could not have picked up clog dancing, I will never know. 

So, I welcome her into my arms each morning, feel her sweet kiss on my lips, brush back her soft hair behind her ears and prepare myself to hear, “Moooommmeeeeeee – I wet in my beeeeedddddd!  You need to cleeeeaaaannnnn ittttttt! Waaahaaaaaaa.”

Because it is just a phase and let’s face it, as a Mommy, it is my job to clean up the pee.