I am Swearing Mum 

​S-Mum has come to realisation that we should really stop swearing.
I say “we” to include ALL of the members of my family who sometimes swear; you know?  Me, The Him… Mini-Me…
In the past few weeks, little Miss Moral Knickers has upped her game of correctional disapproval.  If anyone drops a swear word, her reaction is to announce “BAD WOD!” with an urgency and fervour to match only a Mamma who ALMOST spills her wine.  Her speed and accuracy are AMAZING!
Mini-Me’s aunty stubbed her toe yesterday and, of course, reacted with a FABLIS rendition of JEEEEEEESUS CHRIIIIIIST!

BEFORE she had even pronounced the T at the end of Christ, we heard “BAD WOD!” resounding  through the air…from ANOTHER ROOM!

Even watching Peppa Feckin Pig, by which she is, (like most kids), for some reason ENGROSSED to the point that I doubt she’d notice if SANTA🎅 HIMSELF walked in!, Her High-moral-horse-ness picked up on the expletive in the other room and had it suitably disciplined within nanoseconds.
Impressive. 😑😑


The funniness of her reaction however, is LESS FUNNY when she starts correcting non-family members. 😥😥😥
 Our Gardener was here earlier and got admonished for his accidental use of “Shit”.  He tripped over the dog-horse.🐶

 It was a perfectly appropriate use of emergency expletive, but not for Mini-Me.

“BAD WOD!”

(Thankfully, he too has bossy minions of his own…) 😂
On Saturday, The Him announced “I keep forgetting to put that bloody box in the attic.”
“BAD WOD!”

“I did NOT say a Bad Word!?”

“Yes, you did Daddy.”

“No, I didn’t!”

“I heard you.  You said Bloody Box. Dat wight Mum?”

“I did NOT!”
Me and Bloke stifling spontaneous combustion…”You did Honey. She’s right I’m afraid.”
He genuinely didn’t even realise he’d said it and proceeded to apologise. “Ah Ok! Silly Daddy didn’t mean to say that.  You were right.”
Cue smug little fartsickle shrugging her shoulders and saying “See! Told ya!” before flouncing to her room.
The Bloke starts to laugh.

We have the “very seriously good parenting We really need to stop swearing, before she starts repeating us!” conversation…
The Bloke buckles.

“BEFORE she starts? She told me yesterday I was a Duckhead.”
Oh.

Sweet.

Gemima. 😣😣😣
And that’s not the worst one.

I had jumped out and frightened her that morning and had a good old giggle to myself as she ran screaming down the hall.  Apparently what I didn’t hear because of my guffawing was her telling her teddy “She’s a BITCH!” 😁😁
So there you go.

  My Mother-Theresa-esque-Morally-superior Mini-Me is actually an absolute potty mouth.
I am officially terrified that she will decide to use her colourful language at school and her lovely young and polite Teacher will think she comes from a family of Potty mouths… She does of course, but it’d be nice to keep that hidden for a while.
Terrible isn’t it? I’ll await the referral Social Services and the disapproving eyebrows from the perfect parents who never let their kids HEAR them swear, 😉 and I promise to try to be a better example to her.
But as a positive, she has been using them in the correct context, so as a language teacher I must commend that. 🙄🙄


I’m often reminded by my parents of MY first day of school, where I seemingly came home from school and called my baby brother a “Wee Bastard.”

  My lovely ladylike Mum has never recovered from the shock, but sure look it…I turned out alright didn’t I? ( Tumbleweed rolls across page…)😅
Goodnight Bitcheepooooos. 
“BAD WOD!” 😂

I am Swearing-Mum

Last night, my Mini-Me said her first proper swear word.

Jeeeeeesus anyway,” she announced as she sat on the toilet.

Now, I know that children will copy what they hear, and I’m quite able to admit that I am no stranger to the odd expletive, but as a family, we do try not to use bad language in front of the kiddies.

Obviously, at some point, we’ve failed.

swearing kid

Not only did she pronounce “Jesus” quite beautifully; She used it in the same context that a grown up might.  She was frustrated (still no poopoo!). She was trying hard and getting nowhere.  She was exasperated and she knew exactly how to express it!

She also knew that it wouldn’t be acceptable, because those pretty blue eyes immediately darted to my face to see how I would react.  She was challenging Mammy.

We’ve been here before.  The first time she ventured into Bad-word-land was with “Shup-up”.  My reaction to that was an automatic scold.  “No!  We do not say Shut-up to Mammy.  That is not nice!”

The result? “Shuppy-up” is what she now reverts to if she wants to push Mummy’s patience.

This time, I was armed and ready. I did what any clever parent would do. I did the opposite of last time. I pretended it hadn’t happened and continued talking about Mr. Poopoo needing to go for a swim.

Not getting the reaction she wanted, she said it again…this time, more slowly and dramatic. (A born actress I tell you.)

Jeeeeeeeeesush.”

This time, I decided to take the bait, but on my terms.

Yes Honey! You saw Baby Jesus in the crib at Christmas! Aren’t you a clever girl?

This wasn’t what she’d anticipated in her brilliant toddler mind, but it seemed to work.  She began to talk about Christmas and Santa and her pretty dress and her Christmas Tree.  And so, I thought I’d won.

cursing

I thought that I’d done well.  I thought I was clever. I thought I’d distracted her and had taught her how to use the word properly. I’d turned the word back into what it is, rather than allowing it the status of swear-word.

That ‘Supernanny‘ doll should move into my house to see how it’s done.  I have it.  I’m in charge.

Smug and quite delighted with myself, I carried on with my evening. Husband would be so proud of how I dealt with the situation.  I’d be admired by friends with toddlers when I told them how to deal with their little Darling’s attempts to use bad words.  I might even win a prize of some sort.  I’d start giving lectures to parents on “Expletives and Toddlers: how to survive.”

Then I woke up.

Princess was throwing a strop.  She pulled off her Elsa dress and was screaming about her Tinkerbell Dress.  Whatever she wanted, I obviously wasn’t doing it.  It was one of those tantrums that began over virtually nothing and resulted in fire-alarm pitch screaming and stomping. She stormed into the hall…and suddenly, all of my smugness dissappeared…

BAAAABY JEEEEESUS ANYWAY!”

So, not only had I NOT dealt with this situation properly, I had given the little genius a way out.  A safe pass.  A golden ticket.  At only three years old, she had manipulated me and my words. What I’d actually done, was teach her how to use it, without getting into trouble.

I was gunked.  My jaw actually hit the floor.  I listened to hear if she’d say anything else.  She didn’t. She was waiting to hear my reaction.  She’s still waiting, because although I actually snorted with laughter, she didn’t hear me.  A few minutes later, she popped her pretty head around the corner. I carried on as if nothing had happened.

I know some people will be disgusted.  I know I shouldn’t have laughed.  I know it’s terrible that a child is able to use language like this.  But I also know, that sometimes, laughing is all we can do.

I’m not a psychologist.  I’m not a child specialist.  I’m not a genius.

I’m a mum.   I’m a mum who, once upon a time, thought smugly that my little girl would NEVER behave like that.  I’m a mum who is learning every single day. I’m a mum who will sometimes just laugh, because really, what other option do I have?

On a positive note, she’s learning. She’s testing boundaries.  She’s experimenting with language.  She’s establishing her little self in the grand scheme of things. And every day, I “Thank Jesus” that she can!

I am Swearing-Mum x

expletive