I know that I shouldn't. Whining is a plea for attention, saying "Poor pity me! I've got it so rough!" And I know that I whine more than I probably should. I know that my life isn't hard. Compared to many, my life has been a dream. I've never been hungry or worried about where I was going to live. I've never been the victim of physical violence (though mental is another story). I've had friends and family that loved me through some of the darkest days of depression. I even had a friend call the cops on me when I was threatening suicide, because she couldn't get to me as quickly as they could. (And I love her for helping put me on the road to recovery.)
I probably don't have a lot to whine about. But I want to whine today anyway, because of the little things that didn't go my way.
I didn't get as much cleaned as I wanted to. I spent too long looking around Wal-Mart, trying to figure out what, precisely, I wanted to purchase in order to get myself better organized. I always having a hard time looking at what I did do, instead of focusing on what I did.
I forgot to ask my husband to bring down the boxes of clothes that I needed to bring to my friend's for her kids, so I carried three not-so-heavy-but-somewhat-awkward boxes downstairs and out to the van. My back was screaming at me by the time I was finished.
Just as they were dismissing the kids from school, my van decided to die. I panicked because there were other parents behind me and I couldn't figure out what was wrong. There was not trying to turn over, but there was also no loss of battery. I thought people would get mad at me because I wasn't moving and I didn't know how I was going to get the kids and I back home. (Especially since we'd let AAA lapse.) I was worried and scared and couldn't stop crying as I called first my husband and then my father.
Once I finally did get the van home (my dad said it was just a glitch in the electrical system because, after a few minutes "rest", it started back up with no problem) I decided to let it rest a bit more. I'd promised Teddy that we'd get his hair cut today, followed by Subway for dinner and a trip to the park. I had to reneg on Subway and the park, but the salon is right across the street. Which meant there was no reason we couldn't walk there. Except for it being uphill most of the way there (my apartment complex is in a valley), it being 82 degrees and humid and me being woefully out of shape. But I wasn't going to disappoint my son again. So the three of us walked.
Between trying to get keep Peter from running into the road and carrying my purse up the hill and across 4 lanes of traffic, I strained my back. But I had to ignore it because I still had to get back home after the boys got their haircuts.
Peter, for the first time since we started getting his hair cut, threw a fit as our stylist was trying to cut it. We almost had to put it off to another day, but the thought of Teddy going home with new hair and him not meant that he finally settled down.
We had to walk back. Downhill, but still hot. And now along with the boys to control and my purse over my shoulder, I was carrying a bag of product for the boys' hair. My back got worse. Add to this the need to walk past the apartment to our mailbox, only to find out that the only mail was junk mail, and the boys fought over who was going to carry the keys and who "won" in their race to the mailbox and back.
Once inside and settled, I took pics of the boys. That's actually what my PYHO was going to be about - talking about how different my boys look right after a hair cut, how grown up. I had pictures from earlier in the week, with their shaggy manes, and pictures from today where they both look so much older than their 3 and 6. But for some reason, my computer won't pull up the files when I try to pull them from the SIM card. So I decided that I wanted to whine instead.
Yes, I know that these are all little problems, and most of them worked out in the end. I found what I wanted at Wal-Mart - and had the money to buy it. Even though it hurt, I managed to get all three boxes of clothes downstairs, to the van, dropped off at my friend's house, to her on her porch, grab lunch from McDonald's and still pick up Pete on time from PDO. My van did start back up and it didn't cost me anything to have it do so (*knock on wood*). Even though it's hotter than it should be on Pi Day in Tennessee, the walk was good for me. Getting more exercise is always good. Plus, the boys got exercise too. And even without the pictures today, I still found something to write about for PYHO.
Trivial things. Small things. Things that, even me looking back at them knows they are nothing to really whine about. But that doesn't stop me from want to, even if it's just for a little while. Even if it's just in the space of this post. Because sometimes, you've got to get the whine out and then move on. And that's what I'm doing now. The whine is out, my soul is clean, my heart okay. It's time to move on.