Come on. Admit it. You’re happy for the opportunity to vent. Freely. To bitch a little. Or maybe a lot. To know it’s okay.
But first, a digression.
I was wondering about those who complain frequently. I pondered the moaning-groaning personality type – if it’s a personality issue – and what it takes to reinforce the complaint tendency, or to chase it away in favor of more constructive means of expression.
Something less bothersome to others. Because the issue with a complainer is we can’t stand listening, right?
Is complaining nature or nurture?
My mother was a complainer. Not a whiner – a complainer. She bitched about the service she received almost anywhere. Nothing was ever good enough. I was never good enough – and whatever I did for her, she’d twist her remarks on the matter and make me feel badly about it.
There were complaints about how she was feeling, complaints about my father, complaints about her workplace. At every age, and every stage, I remember her tendency to complain. Loud and clear.
While I’m guilty of potentially complaining as much as the next guy, I suspect I choose not to be a complainer – at least in part because my mother was, and I realized how disagreeable it is to be around. So was that her nature? Or somewhere along the line, was it learned behavior – just as I learned not to do it by growing up around her?
My son, my son
My sons couldn’t be more different. At least, in terms of personality. Or so it has been for years. My elder is gregarious, an extrovert, a born tinkerer, and very aware of everything around him. When he was younger, if he thought it – he said it. Frankly, that made parenting easier. I knew what was on his mind. He also complained. Not excessively, but definitely more than his brother.
My younger son is more laid back. Quieter. More introverted. Constantly drawing or making something. He never complained. About anything.
In the past year or two – as teens – my sons have matured, of course. My talkative son knows when to listen. My silent son knows when to talk. My younger still doesn’t complain, though he voices disagreement. My elder has ceased complaining, and yes – he also offers his opinion.
So how did this happen? And how did I get so lucky?
We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming –
And I do have some venting to do this morning! Remember. This is a free zone. (And no one can hear you. It’s just you and me.)
Here goes!
- I miss my Mad Men! Yes, I’m going through Mad Men withdrawal already. Sunday nights won’t be the same. Until Season 5 begins, of course.
- A mouse in the house! Yes, they’re at it again. Dammit. Scampering creatures in the kitchen. Two weeks ago. My intrepid teen caught one in a waste basket, and released it outside. Another one? Let’s just say after I jumped on the couch and screamed (really), the kid put out some traps. Yep. I’ll say no more.
- I’m hungry for a handy man. Now, now. Stop that. I have some holes that need plugging. Where the mice are coming in. There’s one just under the roof, and another behind the stove. Anyone have referrals? Perhaps I could arrange an exchange of services? For cookies? Wait. If I give a handyman a cookie…
- I’m seriously sleep deprived. Again. I seem to recall (fuzzily) at least a decade when I took care of little ones, worked a corporate job, cooked, cared for the house, and all on three hours a night. I’m getting five – and can’t keep up! Sure. I manage to get things done. A great deal. But I’m dragging. I need sleep! Real sleep! (Or the 30-hour day.)
- It’s 6 am Monday morning. It’s pouring rain. We have a large art project in process to get to the high school this morning. This will call for creative problem solving so it doesn’t get wet. On more sleep, creative problem solving comes much easier. (Garbage bags to the rescue?)
- Last but not least, I am experiencing palpitating pangs of high heel heartbreak. I haven’t worn a pair of hot shoes in weeks. No. Make that months. Dare I concede that’s the sign of a sorry social life? Must I really begin sitting at Starbucks in stylish stilettos, on the days I take a few hours to write there, rather than my jammed little home office? Where’s that handy man?
Your turn
Your cock-eyed conundrums? Caustic kvetching?
Remember. No problem too small. And no judgment…
My entire post today is one big whine, but I must chime in and second your call for a handyman. My man is many things, but handy he ain’t. And everything’s broken around here! Argh!
And I’m cranky without my Mad Men, too.
I hear you, Kitch! (Why is it everything breaks at once?) And how many more months until Season 5?
I could go ON and ON. The thing is, I never used to be a complainer, but something happened, I suspect motherhood and life got hard. And when things get hard, it’s more difficult to ignore and move one. Some of it I keep in, and it festers. Some I blow off other ways. I’m working on improving that.
So for this Monday my complaints are:
– Why must this time of year be one cold after another. Really. I am SO OVER IT. And pinkeye, now we must cope with pinkeye.
-Why oh why won’t my employer let me work from home. My commute is killing me.
– I love my husband, but his commitment to his work sometimes drives me bananas.
That’s all! Thanks for the place to vent this morning.
I have this theory, Christine. All bets are off when you’re dealing with little kids. Sleeplessness. Laundry. Pinkeye!! (Complaints allowed.) And boy do you have a legitimate complaint with a long commute and everything else you juggle! (I think you get to moan more on that score. Seriously.)
It is interesting how some complain and some don’t. My daughter has a complaining streak – and when I have listened enough, I tell her… okay, that’s nice… now what are you gong to do about it. In other words, stop complaining and make it different.
Sometimes it helps to vent – to get it out and off your chest and then move on.
My vent this morning – I can’t seem to get the tears I want to cry to come out of my eyes!!
Ugh. That I-need-to-cry-but-can’t thing. (Any chance you could peel some onions? Watch a really maudlin movie this evening?)
Sometimes a good cry can help, can’t it. (Wishing you some necessary tears today, TE.)
I don’t feel entitled to complain. My problems are all problems of privilege: My nanny is out sick today. I didn’t have time to go buy my new laptop this weekend. I’m not sure what to pack for our upcoming vacation to DC. Whah, whah, whah, right? I’ll shut up now.
At Daily Plate of Crazy all complaints are fair game! Your day is messed up, right? Feel free to complain! (And about that packing… can you include some hot shoes so I can live vicariously through someone else’s footwear adventures?) 😉
This is completely judgmental, but moms in white luxury SUVs are bitches. Behind yet another one today that didn’t pull over completely to drop off her kids, and then doesn’t LOOK before she starts to pull out.
UGH. Hate that!
I am a natural-born complainer. If I could change one thing about my natural personality, that would be it. I hate it. (See? I can even complain about being a complainer!) The way you describe your mother is likely how my kids would describe me and that makes me sad.
Anyway, I do try to be conscious of it and bite my tongue. The unfortunate piece of this though is that, while I may be able to hold off on speaking it, I cannot hinder myself from thinking it. The end result is that I often end up just feeling frustrated. I’ve determined that one of my primary points for complaining is that it allows me to vent. If I cannot vent, I stew. Neither choice seems enjoyable though. Any suggestions?
Anyone have any suggestions for Cathy? (I say vent over stew. That’s what this exercise is here for. I think it’s healthy.)
Cathy – I’ve faced a similar challenge with judgment. I was raised in an environment that was highly judgmental. I didn’t realize it for what it was as a kid, but as an adult I’ve gotten a glimpse of a kinder, gentler alternative and I really prefer it. Nevertheless, it was a hard habit to break. What I found though, is that if I stopped saying judgmental things it was the first step toward not thinking them. And when I had those thoughts I imagined what they would sound like out loud, which was always a major turn-off.
Eventually you really can retrain your mind to focus on things you like instead of things you don’t like. You can reframe anything. When you start to say to yourself “I hate that I’m a complainer” stop and rephrase it to “I struggle with complaining and I’m trying to get better.” It sounds cheesy and new-agey and not all that practical, but over time it can really change your frame of mind. Good luck!
No particular complaints today, but I do have a tip on a handyman: Check out Bree’s new painter and Jack-of-all-trades (if you know what I mean…) on Desperate Housewives.
You’re welcome.
I think venting is better than stewing – if, after you’ve vented, you feel better about it. If it just builds the resentment, it’s not good. My sister-in-law and I used to get together to complain about our mother-in-law (both are my ex in-laws now) until we figured out it just fanned the fire for both of us. For me, venting via the written word works so much better than speaking it to a friend because sometimes they inadvertently feed me.
Kristen made me smile with her mention of Bree’s handyman/lover. The show’s quite the comedic drama! As for the venting, this is so funny…Today I wrote about whether attitude drives behavior, or whether changing behaviors can change attitude. I have occasional pity parties, but they tend to be short and not well attended. So can we choose to be happy…or unhappy. I think it’s well within our control how we feel and what attitude we choose to have towards life.
I just spent 20 minutes reading all the posts I’ve missed lately. I’ve been MIA because I’ve been moving. Moving to a new blog home! Come see me at http://www.peripheralperceptions.org. The back story is at my old .com place. Cya! 😉
I try to limit how much I complain. I actually feel guilty sometimes for even uttering negative words. But as Christine has said, motherhood has definitely increased my complaining. Why don’t I get anything done? Why can’t she cooperate? You get the gist. But I keep myself in check and try not to go overboard. Because really, if you think about it, there is probably always something to complain about. It’s just a matter of changing your perspective on things (so hard to remember when you are mired with all of life’s challenges (little or big)
Is the venting still open?
My high school senior is failing Chemistry and says it’s my fault! It’s my fault because if she’s late to class (which is her first class in the morning) she doesn’t get credit for the quiz. She’s been late about five times now so is missing quite a few points. She says if I excused her for being tardy she’d get credit for the quizzes. I say if she got her butt out bed, she wouldn’t be tardy. I get the typical response that everyone else’s parents excuse them and I say, I’m not everyone else and besides, I don’t believe that. Ho hum … so not a good way to start the day.
Venting is always open. 🙂 I feel for you. I’m living this chronic lateness issue with my high school senior. Brutal all round. (Anyone have an answer??)