No Whining

When my BFF's baby wouldn't sleep through the night, I was full of advice: set a schedule and don't physically pick her up until morning. You can tell her that you're nearby and that you love her, but allowing her to wake up at 3:00 a.m. will undercut your routine and your authority; you'll be teaching her that she'll get her way if she only cries long and loud enough.

Sage words from a veteran mom. Unfortunately my parenting ninja skills don't extend past babyhood; my own children's behavior has me at wit's end. My kids were so annoyingly whiny this past weekend that I found myself wondering if I could give my husband full custody without getting divorced.

Just kidding. But not really. OK, mostly kidding.

It started Friday night. SJ was out of town, so I was outnumbered three to one. The end of the week is hard -- sleep deprivation has a cumulative effect through the school and work week -- and the kids needed to blow off some steam. There was some whining and some yelling, but we made it through the day.

After I put them to bed, and I settled in for some TV. I caught up on Real Housewives of Atlanta (because I'm classy), and then came upon the Dateline interview of Rabbi Schmuley's Michael Jackson tapes (must be a slow week for catching sexual predators.)

I was struck by Michael's description of his father. Michael said that his father was extremely strict, always chastising his children, forcing them to perform and behave. As I stared at Joe Jackson's creepy-eyed, plastic surgery-altered, elderly African American face, I saw myself. Was I always yelling at my kids? Not loving and positive enough? Certainly there is room for improvement, so I vowed to do better.

My resolve lasted until about 8:15 the next morning.

After my kids watched extra TV and enjoyed a special breakfast, they launched into a cacophony of bitching and arguing. By the time I had them quieted down, my own voice was hoarse.

The whining force is strong in these ones.

The problem has been escalating over the past month. I think I've tried everything: searching for root causes, talking low, talking loud, yelling, explaining, hugging, glaring, answering, ignoring, mimicking, distracting, reasoning, quarantining, threatening, bribing, reward charts, and punishment. The tricky thing is that no response seems to work consistently; just when I think I've figured out the perfect corrective strategy, the problem seems to morph and my cure is rendered obsolete. It's like the fricking Andromeda Strain over here.

I try to step back and look at the situation objectively. There must be a way to stop -- or at least reduce -- the drama. My latest theory is that I put away my baby parenting theories too soon: I think I need to Ferberize my whiners. I will explain the ground rules, make sure they're safe and understand the situation, and beyond that I will not respond to bad behavior.

I don't have all the answers, but I think I'm on to something here. Kids need a framework to understand the world around them; boundaries will help them feel safe. Growing up is hard, but there are acceptable and unacceptable ways of processing changes and challenges. Whining so much that your mother wants to gouge out her ears with a butter knife falls in the "unacceptable" category.

Today's whining is yesterday's cries in the night; I'm here to aid and comfort, but not let children rule the roost. I'm not Joe Jackson, but I'm not Michael; the Neverland model didn't end well, either.

This won't be easy. I tried it last night ("I hear you and I've answered you, but I'm not going to discuss this anymore") and was rewarded with two kids' wailing in the car for almost a solid straight hour. But at bedtime I felt frustrated and exhausted, but not guilty. I held my ground, followed through, and didn't respond in anger.

Time will tell if this is the way to win the battle and the war.