This is more interesting than anything I have to say

So I was going to write a "Confess and Assess: Sara Edition" post, but I can't find anywhere the paper where I wrote my measurements down, and heavens knows I am waaay too lazy to just take them again.

Instead, while I'm off searching through the random stacks of paper I have on every flat surface, read this article. It's about the boys' basketball team at a high school in a small town in New Brunswick, Canada. One of my very dear friends sent it to me, as that is the town she grew up in and the high school from which she graduated.

I kinda disappeared last week, because my mood spiraled into a pile of crap (figurative, thankfully) brought on, best I can tell, by the combination of hormones (ttom doesn't want to stick to any sort of schedule, it would seem) and my husband only being home for 3 days of the last month. Let me just say that there are days I handle his absences better than others. This past week was a few of the others. Reading that article though was a good reminder that maybe my life isn't as difficult as I sometimes seem to want to make myself think it is. Please don't think that, by posting this article, I am telling anyone to "suck it up" because their problems aren't "as bad" as this town's. I am a firm believer that you can't compare suffering (except maybe in extreme cases, i.e. hangnail vs. multiple organ failure--in that instance I might have to call you a whiner).

I am grateful whenever I find examples of people who carry on and succeed in the face of great difficulties. The circumstances may not be the same, but I think that we can gain something from stories like this to use to make our own lives better, even if it's just to give our loved ones an extra hug.

I can never get enough whine

I wanted to make sure Sara didn't miss her kids too much, so I made sure to whine as much as possible while she was here*. I think I covered pretty much everything.

"I'm tired." 

"I can't believe I have to wash dishes again."

"I have shin splints."

"My head hurts." 

"I'm cold."

"I'm hungry."

"I'm too full." 

"My preschooler broke my nose with her hard head." 

"My nose hurts."

"I want apple pie. Why don't we have any apple pie?" 

"My lips are chapped."

"My nose is dry"

"My nose is full of dry boogers."

"My feet hurt." 

"My elbows are dry." 

"I can't do pushups because I have a thingy on my wrist and it hurts."

"There's pie in my hair." 

"My hair hurts."

"Why did I eat so much pie?"

"I have a hangnail."

Sara really enjoyed it. She likes her best friends whiny and annoying. 

Or maybe she was just holding her rage inside. Come to think of it, she did laugh a little too hard when I stepped weird while walking into the living room one evening and fell into a heap. 

I am nothing if not introspective, so all that whining got me thinking. "Is whining ever OK?" I thought to myself, "Or is it just a form of vocal self-pity that should be abandoned at all costs?"

Well, I honestly can't see myself quitting with the whining entirely, so I think I've decided to support conditional whining.

Sometimes we need to let off some steam--complain a little. It helps us feel better in some cases. However, it can go too far. When whining goes beyond letting off steam and veers into poor-me-why-is-the-world-against-me-all-the-time-in-everything-I-do-life-sucks-and-I'm-a-miserable-failure territory, then it's time to shut up and regroup.

Whining can make it all worse. It can alienate you from your friends and family (ever been around a whiny toddler or teenager for a while and wanted to ship him/her off to Siberia at the first opportunity?). It can reinforce any sense of misery or hopelessness you already have. It can make you forget what's good in your life and forget the needs of others (many of whom probably have far more reason to whine than you.) 

In short, I think I'll allow myself to whine from time to time, but only for a short while, then it's time to figure out what to do about my problems and take action instead of wallowing in the negative verbal soup (like alphabet soup, but more metaphorical). 

So, Sara--sorry to have avoided the epiphany until after you left, but I'll try to keep up the reluctant-Pollyanna behavior until your next visit. 

*Note: I am not implying that Sara's kids are particularly whiny. But, they are kids after all.