The Whining Game
I remember once a long time ago–I was quite small–I was in the car with my family. I sat in the backseat with my brother, saying something to my parents who were up front, and they told me to stop whining.
I don’t remember what I was unhappy about right then, but I do remember this: I was baffled. I didn’t know what they meant. I didn’t notice there was anything different about my voice; I thought I was just telling them something.
I remember going quiet after that, replaying my words in my head and trying figure out what ‘whining’ was. You see, I had heard of whining before. I just didn’t know how to define it and how to know if I was doing it.
I never said anything about it. I just kept the question with me over the years and tried to solidify my own answer. What is whining? It seems like such an unusual situation…but as a kid, I never felt confident of the definition of this word!
Then I had kids of my own. Then I knew for sure. I never did have anyone to explain it to me, but when you’re on the receiving end of whining, you know.
The thing is, I still remember that uncertain feleing I had…to be told you’re whining, but not understand what it is you’re doing that’s whining. Is it different than complaining? Venting? Sharing unpleasant feelings? I wanted to make sure my kids didn’t go through the confusion I did. I wanted to define it for them. Clear things up a bit. I wanted to get everyone on the same page so we all know what we’re talking about.
Once, when JJ was about 3 and Elia was 4, we started the Whining Game. It went like this:
Me: Hey you guys, you know how sometimes you might hear me talk about whining? Or that someone is whining?
Them: Yeah.
Me: Do you know what that means? Do you know what whining is?
Elia: Um…it’s kind of like you’re mad?
Me: Yeah…or frustrated, or sad, or angry, or all of them at the same time.
Them: Yeah!
Me: And sometimes when you feel like that, you kind of feel like crying?
Them: Yeah.
Me: And sometimes you cry but sometimes you’re still trying to talk, too. So the words come out kind of half-and-half.
Elia: Yeah, half crying and half talking at the same time.
Me: Yeah like this [over-the-top nasally whiny voice]: MOOOOOOOM, I DONT WANNA DO WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DOOOOOO…I WANNA DO WHAT I WANNA DOOOOO! [giggles] Hey about you do one.
Elia: [smiling] I WANT CAAAAANDYYYYY!
JJ: [giggling] NOOOOOO!
Me: ….BUT I DON’T WAAAANT TOOOO! I JUST WANNA…Oh my gosh I can’t do it anymore. I’m annoying myself.
Them: Ahhhhha hahaha! Mom! [Hysterical laughter.]
Me: You win.
I’ve heard parents talk about their kids’ whiny stages, annoyed that everything that comes out of their mouths is said with a whine. And, remembering my 5-year-old self in the backseat of my parents’ car, my first thought is always, “Maybe they don’t know what it is.”
To help kids through whiny stages, I recommend that all parents and kids get on the same page about what whining is and what it sounds like to others, definitely in a fun way. Play the Whining Game. Be super annoying about it. And funny…aways be funny.
Then, when everyone’s clear, it’s easy to provide an alternative tone when you’re in the moment. When whining happens, you can say something like, “OK, I can hear in your voice that this bothers you. You know the whiney game we played? I can hear that voice in your words right now. So I know you’re upset. Try saying it this way instead: ‘Mom? I’m having a hard time with this. Will you help me?’”
It does take time to move out of a whiny stage. But it’s easier with some understanding. It’s easier to do things differently when you understand the differences.
Foresight
“Hey guys, I know a fun game you can play while you’re going potty! But you have to be a boy and you have to pee standing up….So, sorry. You guys can’t play.” ~JJ, age 5
Slow Parenting
Last week was a slow week. Kind of kicked-back, dialed-down, old school…what with no screen time and all. We did other things. And it felt good to slow down; to let boredom creep in and fill the space usually occupied by our iPad. It was there for a bit and then it got dismissed by books and Legos and bike rides.
And this fun game.
A Lego ninja training course substituted for our usual iPhone entertainment in a restaurant.
Lazy evenings of snuggling, reading and listening to stories together
It was a slow living kind of week.
Slow-ness can be helpful. I recently read an article about eating slowly–putting your fork down between bites and actually chewing slower. It was about taking time to enjoy the food on our plates and being mindful of how much our bodies are consuming.
Then that reminded me of the slow food movement in general, which is about getting back to basics of food preparation; forgoing fast food in favor of traditionally prepared, nutritiously-dense, highly flavorful foods.
These ‘slow’ movements and awareness days (like last week’s Screen Free Week) are about taking time to think about things of which we may not be typically mindful. It’s an attempt to bring awareness to issues that are important but that we may be speeding through without thinking; on autopilot with our food choices, eating habits and use of technology.
And also with our parenting?
Bonnie Harris of Connective Parenting first brought up the concept of applying “slow-ness” to raising kids–the idea of slowing down our parenting. Not time itself, of course, but simply taking time to be aware. Like other “slow” movements, slow parenting is about being mindful of ways that we may be parenting on autopilot. I see it as…
-Parenting with consciousness. Being aware of choices and making informed decisions about how we interact with our kids. Asking, “How will this (request/ conversation/ consequence/ hug/ time out/ “Good job!”/ etc.) affect our relationship?” Saying yes, I’ll go with it, or no, I’ll pass.
-Not hurrying, taking your time. Instead of rushing to get to the next thing, staying on the current thing for as long as it takes. It involves planning ahead so you don’t have to rush, and it involves not scheduling your days with stuff you need to rush through or to.
-Managing our expectations with real child development. Trying to bridge the gap between what behavior we expect of a child of a certain age, and the developmental capabilities (normal brain development) of that child of a certain age. Many times they don’t match up. Many times we expect more of our children than their brains and bodies are capable of.
-Observing. Instead of talking, commenting or directing, just watching. Taking note.
-De-scheduing. Hanging out at home in our kids’ “natural environment.”
-Completing activities. Not interrupting a child’s activity and thought process with our thoughts, questions, feedback, suggestions or input. Allowing them to focus for longer periods of time.
-Delaying reaction times. Postponing a reaction to a child’s behavior; not reacting instinctively and “flipping our lids.” Letting our strong emotions dissipate before letting them dictate our response. (And it’s OK to wait, really. The spilled juice, the broken object, the child who is mad about candy….they will all still be spilled/ broken/ mad in 20 minutes when we’ve had time to gather our wits.)
Slow parenting is about focusing on establishing healthy habits and new instincts when it comes to kids’ behavior. It’s about taking the time to understand what is going on with their development and to learn that emotions are healthy, normal and OK. It’s about taking the time to change a reaction from one of, “Stop crying right now,” to, “It’s OK to cry; let it all out.” It’s about taking the time to teach our kids lifelong skills: how to manage feelings, do laundry, prepare food, take care of pets, take care of each other, be a good friend…
Slow parenting is about taking time.
And while I personally don’t think our family can always live as slowly as we did last week while the screens were off, I can always slow down my parenting. I can take my time with interactions and reactions to make them conscious, meaningful. I don’t want to live old-school all the time, but I don’t want to be so attuned to my devices that I’m living on autopilot. It’s helpful to put them down; to slow things down and take time to be a mindful mom. To detach from the devices so my kids can attach to me. Move over iPhone, make room.
Goodnight iPad: Cutting Down on Screen Time
I flipped through this book at the counter of our local toy store the other day. It’s a humorous take on the classic “Goodnight Moon,” which my kids and I have read together countless times. And it is funny; an apt exaggeration of how virtuality has replaced so much of what is “real.”
But it makes me a little sad, too. That our world has become so plugged in that there exists a market for this kind of parody. That there exist gadgets for reading and being read to, for listening to music and making music, and for communicating with people without having to see or talk to them.
So many gadgets, so short a childhood.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the convenience of technology as much as anyone. Our family certainly has our share of gadgets. But the idea of “Goodnight iPad” does hit close to home for us.
Me: Goodnight iPad.
JJ: Nooooooooooooooooo!
Not quite, but pretty close. The difference is I’m not smiling when I pry the iPad out of JJ’s hands.
Recently, we’ve been keeping closer tabs on our screen time, both grownups’ and kids’. It has become way too easy to allow some type of screen to keep us entertained on a whim. Between iPhone, iPod, iPad, laptop, and the good-old-fashioned TV, our kids are always only a finger touch away from easy entertainment. When they’re bored, it is only too easy for them to turn on a device instead of playing with toys.
And it’s too easy for me to want to. When days are filled with stress (either theirs or mine) because of school, work, household tasks, or the emotional upheaval of a 5-year-old’s growth spurt, it’s tempting to turn on a device that will allow them to relax, keep them busy, and stop the bickering. Gadgets are always an easy solution to stress.
But when we start to become dependent on them, something needs to change. When I say, “No iPad today,” and they don’t know what else to do with themselves, something needs to change. It means they’ve become to accustomed to a screen as their go-to to-do, and that needs to change.
I used to read the AAP’s recommendations for appropriate amount of screen time for young kids and think, “Oh, thank goodness that isn’t us.” We never used to have issues with keeping screen time to a minimum, but lately the accumulated hours have crept up on us.
So, goodnight iPad. Goodnight TV. Goodnight iPhone-in-restaurants. Goodnight video games of any kind.
Hello conversation. Hello toys and games and books. Hello puzzles and mazes. Hello blocks, Legos. Hello wrestling matches, swords flights, and dress up. Hello sketch books, hello colored pencils. Hello creativity and imagination.
Also hello whining and complaining…at first. In my state of exasperation with our screen situation, I eliminated every trace of them from our day. It may have been a little extreme, but cold turkey seemed necessary. Oh yes, there was withdrawal. The symptoms included angry faces, sad voices, confusion, boredom, chronic whining, and constant shouts from mom to, “Go do something!”
And then eventually…contentment. Cooperation. Ingenuity.
It’s been a few weeks now, since we said “goodnight” to the screens, and the kids haven’t been asking for them. They get up in the morning and go to the pantry for cereal instead of the iPad for games. When they’re bored, they don’t immediately think of watching a show. They go to the bookshelf or the game cabinet. Our arts and crafts supplies are dwindling, the playroom is a happy mess, and JJ always has a toy in his hands.
Will screens eventually creep back into our day? I’m sure. But I’m contented to have come to a point where they don’t seem necessary for engagement. Without the devices, we are engaging more with each other…imagine that! I know that technology affords us the convenience of connecting us to the world, but I see healthier connections made without it. Skip the digital connections please, I’ll take the interpersonal ones any day.
Artistic Family Fun
We love the game “Guess My Picture.” It’s very visual, no reading required, and allows for some really creative interpretation. In re-creating photographs with simple geometric shapes, I get to see some fascinating distinctions between each of my kids.
Elia is quite literal; she notices the major shapes and proportions and assembles accordingly.
JJ is more abstract; he accentuates only the most distinguishing shapes of the object in the photo, creating a caricature.
I’m sure there are rules, but the way we play it, there are no winners nor any set end time. We just have fun guessing each other’s pictures until we get tired of it. Which, yesterday, took an hour.
And yes, that is Elia and me on the box. In case you were wondering.
