Like many other moms, I think my kids are “gifted.” No, my five year old son doesn’t do calculus, his twin sister can’t recite Shakespearean sonnets and my almost 3 year old still hasn’t quite mastered the fine art of potty training. But I stand by my assessment of “gifted” for one simple reason –

My children are, and always have been, bilingual. Fluent in both English and that particular language so loved by the cartoon-watching, fruit-snack eating, character-underwear-wearing set – Whinese.

My children are champion whiners. They can make any sentence sound like fingernails on a chalkboard. If whining were an Olympic sport, my kids would ensure a U.S. sweep of the medal board. They need no warm-up, no lead time, no practice beforehand. I have time and again marveled at their ability to go from normal speech to griping, grousing and bellyaching in the span of a fraction of a second.

There are days when it seems the whining will never end. The fighting over toys will never end. The teasing will never end. And the thought of refereeing these three kids for the next 15 years or so makes me so tired. And thirsty for a nice pinot grigio.

Days of Whine and Roses? The whining part my kids have down. The roses are the moments when the whining stops and my kids show me what strong, smart, kind people they are turning into. Of course, there are also days when the whining only stops because they’re asleep. And that’s when I break out my own wine. Because wine makes the whine that much easier to take.