MY FAVORITE 4 LETTER WORDS

Fuck, shit, damn, hell... these are only a few of my favorites. Anyone that has spent time with me, knows that I have a potty mouth. I don't know what it is, but I feel like "shoot" and "darn" don't properly convey my feelings. I also combine words if the situation warrants it and use them in different tenses. It's not that I say these words with intent to disrespect anyone, but I can't say that I really hold back too much. 

One would think I'd have reigned it in since having children, especially now that they speak, but I don't know that I really have. I do try my best to watch what I say around other people's children; however, I can't say I always do that well either. Did you know they are all in the dictionary? Look it up. I feel like that almost makes it somewhat acceptable for me to use them in daily conversations.

Here's the thing, I have cussed liked a sailor for almost more years than not. My kids? Well, they are just now building their vocabulary. I feel like it's easier to teach them not to say certain things than retrain myself. When I say any of my favorite words, I do remind my kids that they are adult words and I don't have a problem with them knowing there are things they aren't allowed to say. Adults can do things that kids can't, right? I can use a sharp knife, they can't. I can drink alcohol, they can't. So why is language different? I don't condone calling people names, whether profane or not. Believe it or not, I do have some boundaries. On the other hand, I do fully support expressing yourself.

Perhaps my colorful language is a teaching opportunity? Well, that's what it became recently. Let me tell you about one of my finer parenting moments: 

It was the day of the National Championship game. Schools were cancelled because of a potential "ice storm", but every parent knew it was because of the traffic that we would all encounter due to the game and the President's visit. So, on Sunday night, when news of the cancellation came out, I was already ill. I woke up that fine Monday, still having the same responsibilities that I would normally have, except now I had 2 kids to tote along. Fortunately, I didn't have to work at the office so that was a plus. I did have to take both kids to the doctor because Tyler broke out in an eczema rash, which I didn't even know was a "thing", but I digress. With the temps being frigid and the kids' coats being so puffy, I don't really like strapping them in with coats on, not to mention, I don't want them to overheat when I am trying to defrost. That means that every time we get in and out of the car it's putting coats on and taking them off which, as you can imagine just increases the amount of time it takes to do anything. Ok. Doctor done and now I need to go by work to pick up my paycheck because the bills don't give a shit that I don't have direct deposit. Fine. Go by the office, coats on, out of the car, get check, load kids back in, take off coats, buckle up and head back north to the bank. At this point it was probably about 11:30am, but it felt like it could've been 6pm with all the effort the day had already required of me. Get to the bank and it's closed. Fucking closed. Whelp, that did it. I sat in the parking lot and saw black. Then it happened and it did so out loud as I banged on my steering wheel.

"Mother fucker! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! Everyone is going to fucking close because of a fucking ice storm but now there is not one drop of fucking precipitation. Every fucking asshole still wants their fucking money, but I can't deposit my fucking check because now the mother fucking bank is fucking closed! Shit, shit, shit! Now I'm really fucking pissed! Pissed! What the fuck?!? This is fucking shit. Dammit, fuck, fuck!!"

Then the fog lifted and I realized that my kids are still sitting in the back seat. I took a breath and slowly turned to see my daughter, quietly looking at me. Well, fuck. Now what am I going to say? God knows I just finished saying plenty. My response went something like this:

Me: "Tyler. Mommy just said a whole lot of really bad words. Please don't say any of the words             that I just said. I was very angry and I shouldn't have said all of that but please know, I'm not         angry at you. Ok?"                                                                                                                          Tyler: "Ok." *pause* "Mom, what does pissed mean?"                                                                           Me: "It means really, really angry."

She seemed satisfied with the conversation and we went on to talk about lunch, which as I'm sure you can appreciate, I let her pick whatever she wanted. She decided on a Happy Meal. On our way there I hear: "I hope chicken and fries is open because if not, then I'm pissed, Nolan is pissed and we're all just PISSED! But mom, I'm not pissed at you". Well fuck. I suppose she used it appropriately and I like that she clarified her frustration wasn't towards me; however, now I've gotta shut this shit down. "Tyler, pissed is really not a nice word. I shouldn't have said it. Let's just say angry, ok?" She agreed and for the rest of the day she used "angry". Phew. 

I heard about a kid saying "fuck" in Tyler's class at school one day. I completely thought it was her, but she assured me she didn't say it and I believed her. It wasn't her and the parent of the kids who did say it, had the same reaction I would've had which was "did he use it correctly?". I appreciated that and I instantly liked that parent a little more. 

I'm not justifying my colorful language. In fact, it is something that my husband and I are trying to work on, if for no other reason than to not hear Tyler reminding us that we are using bad words. What I am saying, is we teach our kids that there are things that adults can do that kids can't. Why is language different? If someone asks me about my day and it was shitty, that's what I'm going to say because that's what it was. And let me be clear, it's not only cuss words that I tell my kids they can't say. I don't like the word "hate", they can't say "shut up" or talk about "butts" or call each other any random silly name they make up. One day they'll be allowed to say "shit" and "fuck" or whatever else helps them convey their feelings but that's a long way away. Truthfully, I'll be more appreciative of them using that profanity than "hate" which I actually feel more bothered by. 

I know that not everyone shares my sentiment and I get it. You don't want your kids hearing my favorite words and I respect your feelings. That said, concealing those words from them doesn't mean they don't hear them at all. Just let them know not to use them. By the way, I also plan to talk to my kids about drinking, smoking, drugs, sex and other shit that they should know about but not do. I kind of think this whole language thing sets the precedent of having open dialogue without endorsing kids to participate in illegal, unhealthy or more mature activities. 

As a society, instead of responding with wide eyes to parents having honest, blunt conversations with their children, maybe we should embrace it. You know, let our kids know what is out there and what we expect of them rather than pretend it doesn't happen. Maybe I say "fuck" in front of my kids more than I should, but I can assure you, they won't say it. They'll also know how babies are made when the time comes, which sadly, is far younger than it was when we were kids. I support talking to our kids more openly and setting expectations, but I also don't think that me raising my kids means that I need to change who I am. And who I am is a potty mouthed, very frank, direct woman who has taught her kids that if it's clear and in a glass with ice, it ain't water, so don't drink it. So, fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Say it. I mean maybe not all the time or in front of your kids, but try it. On those rough ones, it may make your day just a little bit better.