Sunday, June 27, 2010

Dropping the F Bomb


It finally happened, my son's speech delay caught up with me and bitch slapped me right in the face. I generally try to save my potty mouth for my blog, which I find to be quite cathartic but occasionally (my husband is guilty of this as well, no matter what he'll admit) when I get frustrated or angry, I'll let something fly. I can say that I honestly go out of my way to not curse in front of my children but I don't always win that battle. I'm human.
Last night while I was giving the children a bath, I did what I always do. I bathed them and once their hair was rinsed, I let them play. River's new form of play involves throwing anything that is holding water and she usually throws it out side of the tub because where's the fun in throwing water into water, right? It's the mess she creates that makes her laugh the loudest, even when she cracks me in the side of the head with a plastic cup filled with baby butt water.
She did it many times during the bath but at one point she picked up what is a pretty big cup, maybe calling it a Big Gulp cup isn't exaggerating too much. It was half filled with water and it landed on my leg, soaking my shorts. I said, "Oh my God River, no!" I found this to be a pretty tame response to water soaking my lower extremities. I grabbed one of the three towels I already had on the floor and tried to soak some of the water up. I had three towels on the floor because I've met my children and I know there is always a strong possibility of something like this happening. I grabbed a towel before the cup stopped bouncing and said, "No, River, no!" I'm still trying to get her to understand what NO means. When out of nowhere Owen yells, "Holy shit, River!" His reaction actually stunned me into silence and while I want to reprimand him, which I ended up doing, everyone is telling me to ignore it and not make a big deal about it and he will stop. It doesn't sit well with me to let a three year old say those things even if it is my fault. I just told him that him speaking like that is not OK and he seemed to get it. I guess we'll have to wait til next time to see if it stuck.
I really have been trying to drop the F bomb and not use other words like this when I'm angry. Just the other day Owen dropped his train from the kitchen table, twice and finally yelled, "Fucking choo choo train!" I'm 80% sure that's what he said which was enough for me. I handled it and haven't heard him say it since. We'll see.

3 comments:

  1. Ha! Hey - it's Nicole from Destination Unknown - dropping by. Love this story. Now, I don't have kids - but my niece (who just turned 4) spent her entire 2 & 3 year old year as a profanity parrot. I remember riding in the car with my parents, and her - and suddenly my father slams on the breaks. Autumn suddenly says, "God damn it, Poppy. Shit." I thought i was going to fall out of my seat. I think it is definitely a phase. When we all began igoring her (after reprimand - because she would also giggle and laugh - she knew what she was doing) - it seemed to work. At 4 - less profanity!

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  2. Thanks for visiting my blog - your writing style is hilarious (coming from someone with no children)...nonetheless, I can only imagine the adventures I will encounter one day. Have a great day and come visit again sometime.

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  3. I too TRY to keep the profanity to a minimum since having my now 20 month old. However, I am quite guilty of a prolific use of "Shit!" when upset. Fortunately (????) my perfect parrot can not make the "Shhh" sound yet so no one understands him when he gets frustrated and yells out "Dit!" Ugh.

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