The 5 Stages Of Whining


Has your child ever complained about the food they are supposed to eat? The clothing they are supposed to wear? Their homework? Completing their chores? The fact that they have NOTHING TO DO OR PLAY WITH in a house full of toys, books, and electronics?? If so, they may be suffering from CWS (Chronic Whining Syndrome).   I can tolerate a lot of things. I do pretty well with reason, logic, questioning, arguments, and even miss-communication. I however, do not do well with whining. This is a HUGE problem in my home. I house three children under the age of 11 and they all seem to suffer from CWS. If you have children who suffer from this syndrome, you might be able to relate to the 5 stages of whining.

The 5 Stages of Whining

1. Denial: It’s 6:45 A.M. My four-year-old enters the kitchen whining that his shoes do not fit. They fit yesterday, but today, they do not fit. He is hellaciously whining about his socks and shoes and the fact that this combination will not be occurring today. My approach, I deny his whines  and continue to pack school lunches. I ignore his tone and move on to my next activity. I act as though he is nonexistent. I step over him to put on the coffee pot.

2. Anger: The four-year-old continues to whine until my pre-coffee self, raises my voice and states. “Put on your shoes, or you are going to school without them.” I know he needs shoes to go to school, but I have 23 minutes to get out the door with three children dressed, fed, and lunches packed.  The four-year-old begins to flail around making unhappy tile angels on my kitchen floor. Staring at me with disdain and arms tightly folded, his protest escalates.

3. Bargaining: I sit on the floor and take a deep breath. “We have to put on your shoes so we can get to school on time. You want to see your friends right?” He looks at me as though he wants to run me through with a Samurai sword. “I want to wear flip-flops” he demands. “OK, but flip-flops are not allowed at school. It is against the rules. You don’t want to break the rules do you?” I ask. “No, but I WANT to wear flip-flops. PLEASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSE MOM, I WANT TO WEAR FLIP FLOPS.” The whining is now grating on every bone in my body. It is my kryptonite.

4. Depression: This is the point where I sit on the kitchen floor and think, “This is my life. I mean, seriously this is my life?  Every. Freaking. Day. This is the sh*t I deal with. Why can’t he put on his shoes and get ready.” He looks deep into my eyes and says, “Mom, why are you so mean to me? Why do you make me get dressed every day?”  Why does it have to be so damn difficult? I just don’t get it! I mean, I like flip-flops too, but seriously. Every. Damn. Day.

5. Acceptance: “Honey, I understand that you want to wear flip-flops, but rules are rules. How about we bring the flip-flops in the car and you can change after school?” I am almost positive that this will work. I can see the wheels turning in his head. He is methodically planning his next move. It’s like playing  chess with freaking Bobby Fisher. “No Mom, I will just wear my boots.” You have got to be freaking kidding me!

Whining seems to be the default method in my home. All three of my children have graduated with sum·ma cum lau·de recognition in the art of whining. I am not sure where children learn to whine, but know that you are not alone. At some point the whining turns into brooding. Then the brooding turns into angst. The angst eventually turns into teenage “know it all” and then they grow up to be adults who have their own children and we get our revenge with grand children. At least, this is my assumption. I really have no idea what I’m doing as a parent, but I gotta hope this whining thing will bite my kids in the butt the same way it did to me 🙂




  1. I have 2 boys 8 & 11. The younger is autistic and ADHD and mood disorders the older hogs and an attitude. Everyday is the same thing. Get up get dressed get ready. I get why and then hiding, u didn’t get my clothes out, u didn’t tell me the bus was here etc I also work from home running a daycare I know I’m nuts. Oh and we do foster care don’t get me going on that one. My husband wants to know why I’m so tired. Lol. Seriously. Really?!


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