Parenting
Updated: April 7, 2021
Let’s be real: I swear. A lot. “Fuck” is one of my go-to words. It conveys joy, frustration, or sadness. To me, it’s rarely out of place. “Shit”? Love it. “Goddamn”? A classic. “Asshole”? That’s practically a term of endearment in my house. I’m an adult, and I say what I want without care for others’ opinions.
Mornings usually kick off smoothly: “Oh, crap! We better hurry or we’ll be late.” I might follow that with, “Don’t forget your damn water bottle.” I try to keep the f-bombs at bay at first, you know, to give the kids a good start. But once they’re out of the car, the real me emerges, and let’s just say my language gets a little colorful.
I like to think I’m a skilled driver. I know the rules, but not everyone else on the road gets it. I feel it’s my duty to let them know. I avoid rude gestures, though; I just vent to myself. Seriously, why do people decide to hit the road when it’s pouring? And don’t even get me started on the “sunshine slowdown.” Those drivers should just give up their keys! Oh, and if you honk at me at a red light? Seriously, chill out; it just turned green!
I don’t always resort to “fuck.” There are other fun words out there. “Shit” is so versatile. I can say, “I don’t get this shit,” or “Clean up your shit!” My favorite might just be “Holy shit!”—it captures everything from shock to sadness. It pairs well with a little religious flair, too, thanks to my 16 years of Catholic schooling. My mom loves knowing her tuition wasn’t wasted.
Ever feel the urge to call someone an asshole? I do, often. It’s a word I find myself using frequently. My husband is well-acquainted with it, and for a while, he might’ve thought it was his name.
Speaking of my husband, he’s just as much of a curser as I am. If we counted all the “Motherfuckers!” shouted at the computer, he’d take the prize. I’m more of a “son-of-a-bitch” kind of person when technology fails me. “This son-of-a-bitching WiFi is useless! We’re switching providers after this billing cycle!” Catchy, right?
There’s one word I steer clear of, though. It starts with a “c” and ends with three letters. That one just feels too dirty to utter. Even if I think someone is the worst, I won’t use it. My husband won’t either. In our home, we keep that one in check.
You might think I need a swear jar to clean up my act around my kids. I don’t carry that kind of cash! My kids understand my language is just how I express myself, and they know it’s more of a “do as I say, not as I do” scenario. They realize that colorful language is for grown-ups who have earned it. If they started cursing, it could tarnish my flawless parenting reputation.
Some days, I hold back a bit. I might say my husband is acting like an ass without calling him one outright. Not every word I say is crass—I share plenty of kind sentiments too: “I love your haircut!” or “You did a great job!” Sure, I might sprinkle in a curse now and then, but is that really so bad?
I’m not some quiet wallflower who just sits back. If you want to swap expletives, come on over. It’s nice to meet a fellow potty mouth!
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Summary
The author embraces their colorful language in front of their kids, believing it’s part of their personality. They argue that swearing can be expressive and fun, while also maintaining that their kids understand the difference between adult language and what is appropriate for them. The post reflects on the challenges and humor of parenting, focusing on the balance between authenticity and setting a good example.