NSFPOBC (Not Safe for People Offended by Cursing)
Yesterday morning the word, "Holy!" floated out of the kitchen and into the living room where Hannah and I were sharing some breakfast. Hannah gazed towards the kitchen as if she was seeing the word flutter by and announced, "Crap!" The 12-year-old in me wanted to giggle. The mom in me wanted to gasp. I went with something in the middle and ignored it, completely.
Despite 2 1/2 years of work, Bryan and I still have "potty mouths". I have significantly toned things down. If something falls out of the freezer and onto my toe, I am more likely to yell, "Fudgesickle" these days. But when I hit my thumb with a hammer, or I walk in dog pee in the kitchen, you know what doesn't make me feel better? Shoot, darn, dang it, and Oh No! These words don't work. Creatively stringing together curse words makes me feel better. Sometimes, I am so creative that I cheer myself right up and forget about the thing that made me curse in the first place. And you know what? I don't feel guilty. I don't feel as if I've sinned, as I was led to believe I'd done when I was younger. I feel calmer, like I've purged some demons.
I know not to curse in public or around children that aren't my own (and I'm getting so much better around my own). I know that people judge others on the words that come out of their mouths and opportunities may be lost. I know that too much cursing makes you sound like an uneducated moron. And as I will be paying for the REST OF MY LIFE for my Master's degree, that is exactly how I don't wish to sound. But behind closed doors, in my car, and around friends, I will take that filter off and express myself however the hell I want. I spent my teenage years and a good chunk of my 20's cursing out loud, in public, whenever, whereever I wanted. But I needed to do that, to get it out of my system, to rebel against all the rules I grew up with. All the unexplained, just don't do it, just don't question it rules I grew up with. All the rules I know were for my own good, but without back-up, meant nothing and were things to ignore, test, and question. Yep, I learned the Why.
The fact is, I enjoy cursing. It's fun, it's freeing, and it's just a set of words that some people consider to be offensive, which is why it's fun and why it's freeing (Oooh, look! A big circle!). But now there's a Honey-Nut Cheerio eating parrot in our house. And there's nothing quite like hearing the little person you are responsible for repeat, "Fuck!" which, in all fairness you yelled right after you'd set the oven on fire with a damn croissant (see, the word damn adds a little something, somehow shifts the blame from me to the baked good that fell onto the heating coil at the bottom of the oven). Your blood runs cold and you freeze. Your mind races to find an appropriate response. And you wonder how you're going to convice a 2-year old not to repeat this new found expression at daycare the next day. Because no matter how okay you may be with cursing, it is still a forbidden word and you still don't want to be called into the daycare center's office to have a chat with the principal.
I know in a few years, we'll be able to explain to Hannah that there are words that aren't appropriate in all situations. Or around Nana. At all. Ever. We will explain the appropriate times, we will give her permission to use these words, if necessary, without fear of punishment (Ha ha! We'll take away the power of the words). We will explain to her the Why behind the rules. And then we will watch her find the Why on her own. But for now, we have to be careful how much power we give these words. To freak out and start yelling will let Hannah know she has a word that can get an adult's attention in a split second. Yes, for now we will (mostly) ignore the bad words she parrots back to us and we will be more dilligent in watching what we say within ear shot. But, we will continue to be ourselves in our home, in our cars, and with our friends. And if you've got a problem with it, I'm pretty sure you can figure out what to go do with yourself.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Kudos to you for posting this blog! I have never been able to say so much, so easily when trying to explain the need to use certain words in certain situations. Chris and I have had a couple of instances where we calmly and almost nonchalantly explain that we don't use "those words" because they are not nice (and we haven't had to venture too far past that explanation thus far). I will agree though that there is something quite hilarious, and also mortifying, about hearing your 3 year old walking thru the house singing songs from Rent, and (with feeling might I add) sing "This is weird, fuckin weird, really weird, fuckin weird". This is the same child who, once he discovered what that "5th appendage" between his legs is (still around the age of 3) went to great lengths to get naked as often as possible (thankfully, only at home) and run thru the house telling everyone he encountered (including the dogs) to "LOOK AT MY PENIS". This of course was followed by the proclamation that "It BEEPS" with a demonstration of said beeping. Another example, again, same child around the age of 4 1/2, is when he was waiting for the tub to fill at bath time and would stand stark naked on the edge of the tub (one foot on either side), bob up and down, bending his knees, arm extended behind him, smacking himself, declaring "I'm a booty-spanker, Mama!" It's these times when I think to myself "Dear God, please don't let him do this in public...EVER!" and then hope for the best. Thankfully, we haven't had anything of the sort leak beyond the walls of the house...but part of me is still waiting for the day when I get that call from either his teacher or principal.
PS - dont feel bad, guilty, or otherwise about Hannah not getting a bath for a week! The same has happened in my household (more than once)not only because there was that period where bathtime was the most horrid event X2 of course, but also because I can't always do everything all by myself. Trying to accomplish homework, dinner, clean up, and bedtimes in the span of 2 hours (or less, after working all day and picking the kids up from daycare) is hard enough for me sometimes but when you throw bathtime in there too...well thats just damn near impossible! LOL
Love Andrea
Post a Comment