My son, at 18, possesses a wider array of interests than most young adults his age. He’s involved in various activities at his college, from the aviation and Latin clubs to playing tennis, golf, and even precision ping-pong. He’s also claimed to have made a decent amount of money playing poker. Yet, his standout talent is his unmatched gift for ranting.
He is the ultimate ranting champion – a skill he has honed since he could speak. Initially, it was adorable when he uttered his first words, but as he grew and began stringing sentences together, that charm faded. There was no turning back. While other kids were singing simple songs, he was angrily exclaiming, “UNFAIR UNFAIR UNFAIR!” over chicken nuggets. I still can’t comprehend the connection between fast food and fairness, but toddlers have their own logic!
By the age of four, he discovered how to open windows, which taught me that not every child should learn about dialing 9-1-1. Some preschoolers misuse that emergency number, and I happened to have one of them. If I sent him to his room for a timeout, he would rant about being locked away “forever” and would call me mean and ugly. He would then open the window and shout for someone to call 9-1-1. Thankfully, the police never arrived, but I often wondered what the neighbors thought of my son’s outbursts.
I began to question my parenting abilities. After all, I’ve raised three kids, and two of them express their frustrations in a more subdued manner. Perhaps it was birth order, genetics, or even karma. Who knows? Maybe it’s just evolution at play.
Despite maturing, my son’s rants didn’t lessen. You’d expect that with a broader perspective and an expanded vocabulary, he would rant more eloquently, but that wasn’t the case. His rants transformed from complaints about chicken nuggets to grievances over dinner timing, hair products, and Snapchat crashes.
The truth is, my son was a ranting prodigy from the moment he could articulate his feelings, and he will continue to be a ranter for life.
How I Manage His Relentless Tirades
How have I managed to cope with his relentless tirades? I’ve developed a two-pronged strategy over the years:
Self-Care
Whenever I hear his prelude to a rant, I sneak off to the bathroom and relax in the tub with a book. When he knocks and complains about missing items, I invite him in, casually mentioning, “I’m naked.” His retreat is instantaneous, providing me with a moment of peace that no bath bomb could rival.
Self-Preservation
In the past, I would attempt to reason with him during his rants, appealing to his rational side. Now, I simply redirect his complaints so they’re out of earshot. That taco? Oh, I think your dad had it. The lint roller? Pretty sure your sister took it. It’s survival of the fittest in our household, and if I can expertly shift blame, that’s their problem.
When we dropped my son off at college, we also left behind a lifetime of his rants. Our home became a tranquil retreat, a blissful escape for the ears. Initially, I enjoyed the peace.
However, I soon realized that our family had grown accustomed to his familiar rants. While we may never know when they’ll occur, there’s a certain comfort in their predictability. With the holiday break and his month-long return, our household once again resonated with his spirited outbursts. It may seem dysfunctional, but after a semester of quiet, I’ve come to appreciate the lively chaos.
That doesn’t mean, though, that you won’t find me seeking refuge in the bathtub for the next four weeks!
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In summary, while my son may be a champion ranter, I’ve found ways to cope that allow me to maintain a semblance of peace and sanity. His unique personality has become an integral part of our family dynamic, and despite the occasional chaos, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.