Friday, April 02, 2010


Ah, my children...


Somehow these lovely little angels have turned into foul-mouthed little beasts.

That 'somehow' is 100% bull shit. I know exactly how it happened. Care to hear all about my poor parenting? Read along!

The house selling has been more than a little stressful for me, which you probably already know. Unfortunately for me (and my kids), one of the first things out of the window during times of stress is my ability to censor myself. Until one month and one day ago, I was thinking that I had gotten really, really good at curtailing my profanities around the kiddies. I was using some delightful expressions, like Mother Hen and Holy Macaroni in place of my usual swear words, and honestly, I found it amusing.

And then the house went on the market, and I had to use all of my extra brain power to remember to blow out the cinnamon candles and turn on all of the lights. That's when my ability to come up with new and creative non-offensive expletives died. All of a sudden, I found myself uttering full on swear words in front of my children. Occasionally even at my children. So the other day, when Lucy asked me to zip her fucking coat, I wasn't too surprised. I was mortified and totally ashamed of myself, but not surprised.

And then Sam uttered 'god damn' during a heated game of Thomas Uno with our lovely and incredibly Catholic baby sitter.

And then two days later he appropriately and subtlety dropped a 'mother fucker' into conversation during a game of Mario Brothers. Again while our sweet and totally pure baby sitter was here.

At first I contemplated sealing up my mouth with duct tape, but then how would I consume all of the wine I would need to make me feel better about this whole mess? I spoke with the kids about how what I said was wrong and bad, and I apologized. Then I explained that they should never use those bad words mommy said.

Now I just have to hope that they listened. The last thing I need is to have my kids taking the lord's name in vain on Easter Sunday. At least this little darling isn't old enough to talk yet.


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susan said...

There is nothing so upsetting as to hear your own voice coming back at you from your own little darling, is there? If it makes you feel any better, I couldn't find a hole big enough to dive into when Aaron let "Mother, for the LOVE. OF. GOD." fly in front of my preacher brother-in-law. Perfect derision and all. The boy has studied the master and has learned his lessons well.

Arizaphale said...

Oh dear. Mortifying. I could regale you for hours with discussions of my deteriorating language, particularly at school where I have been known to ask a Year 9 boy to
"Try NOT to be such a dickhead" and eye rollingly declare a particular Year 10 high maintenance prima donna (male)... 'SUCH a wanker'......
It's especially bad when one of them happens to be the Principal's nephew. The Principal acknowledged that his nephew is indeed a dickhead but could I please call him a 'scallywag' instead.
I dunno. Somehow doesn't cut it really......
Kids at our place are well versed in the school of 'do what I say not what I do....', although I'm not sure that works in this instance?????