I tried not to swear in front of my oldest son well into elementary school, out of fear he would repeat it and I’d get the evil eye from all the good mothers, who said things like “golly” and “oopsy daisy” when they gouged their skulls in the corner of their kitchen cabinet, or slammed their hand in their car door in the school parking lot. But James would never repeat a bad word. He just knew. Vincent, however, is a parrot. Nothing can be said around Vincent that you don’t want repeated. He knows the difference. He just can’t help himself.
As a new mom, I knew not to say the standard swears: sh*# and f@#k and a#%h*le. But there were harmless words I wasn’t allowed to say, as well. In What to Expect When You’re Expecting, they make no mention of how political correctness has grabbed the English language by the neck and strangled it to create a bizarre, anemic, child-friendly language that is acceptable to use around children in all settings: church, home, school, playdates, field trips. Sporting events, even!! I could have used those nine months of pregnancy to practice my new Mom Language, sans…well, you know, my native tongue.
The harmless words, like butt and God and fart and hate and pissed and jerk, are not on a special list for first time parents. It’s one of those accidents-waiting-to-happen, learn-from-your-mistakes kinds of lessons that really could be avoided if we all knew what the rules were. What I found out when it was time to send my children off into society is that other peoples’ children were taught strange rules on all kinds of words. Word Rules are a mother’s way of showing people “I am a good mother. I am in control. I am teaching my children The Right Way.”
I couldn’t figure out what the right way was. I used whatever rules my mom friends were using. But even that was tricky. Some moms say poop while other moms say #2. Some find bowel movement too scientific and prefer grunt. Some say potty, while others don’t mention what activity you’re going to do in there. They just say, “Go to the bathroom.” Others don’t even say bathroom. It’s a restroom. But they all say, “And wash your hands with soap!” I could say that. There were so many behaviors and opinions to learn.
When my oldest was 15-months old, and the pressure of suburban mommy rules was getting to be too much for me, we moved out to the country so I could figure out who I was as a mom, without any influences from judgmental new moms. I don’t know what it is about that section of the population but new moms really are hard on one another and themselves, trying to jump through hoops so no one thinks they’re not raising their child right, giving it too much or not enough. Everything’s under scrutiny, from touch to toys, from diet to sleeping arrangements, from hygiene to Word Rules.
When we lived out in the country in Union County, Ohio, surrounded by cornfields, soy fields and woods, on our way out to the car we’d all pee next to the side of the barn. Not every time, but only if we were about to get in the car and suddenly we realized “I have to pee.” We had a “no shoes in the house” rule, because we had white carpet. So it was just out of convenience that we began peeing on the side of the barn. Plus we did it because we could get away with it. Who’s going to see us?
We moved out of the country to the city, two years later, when it was time for James to go to preschool. We wanted him to go to a Montessori school, like his dad, when he was growing up in Boulder. When James was out on the playground one day, he had to pee. So he walked over to the corner of the playground, pulled his pants down to his ankles and peed in the mulch. One of the moms saw it and reported it immediately to the headmaster who explained to the mom, “They’re from the country.”
Other peoples’ children corrected me with their Word Rules on school field trips and play dates and school parties. “God is a bad word” and “It’s bottom” they’d tell me at the zoo when I said “Oh, my God. Look at that monkey scooting around on his butt! Doesn’t that look like it hurts?” I thought I was on their level. But apparently, I was beneath them. They looked down their noses at me, which is hard to do when you’re shorter than someone, but they did it. They shunned me. I had to quickly say five politically correct things in a row to win them back. So I whispered in each of the five kids’ ear: “You’re my favorite.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t politically correct but the strategy worked like candy and puppies.
Other peoples’ children are narcs, too. I could tell they told on me for breaking Word Rules when they got home because at the next school function their mothers would shield their children from me. Invitations for playdates were turned down due to a “conflict in schedules”.
My oldest is 13 now. My youngest is 9. They do a pretty good job with language, considering how difficult it is for me to follow the Word Rules. But they aren’t afraid to use a swear in the right context, say if they are frustrated or exasperated or just being silly and that swear fits perfectly in the punch line.
Last week, James, my 13-year old, was sick. He had a fever, fatigue, aches. I made him scrambled eggs for breakfast when he got his appetite back. He had asked for eggs on toast but I didn’t hear the last part. I just made eggs. I put them in a bowl and handed them to him and the bowl just sat there, untouched.
I came into his room later and said “Why didn’t you eat your eggs while they were still warm?”
He said, “Because I wanted eggs on toast and I didn’t want to ask you for toast because you’d call me an a#%h*le.” And he started to cry, because he was just too sick to advocate for himself.
He knows I would never treat him like that. Immediately I felt defensive. I never want my kids to think I’d think badly of them. Especially to call him an a#%h*le? That’s so far from how I really feel about him and treat him. I had to set him straight. I said, “Bullsh*#! I’d never talk to you like that!”
We looked at each other while the words hung in the air. A#%h*le. Bullsh*#. Never talk like that. We laughed over that for five straight minutes. We’ve been saying it back and forth out of the blue to each other for a few days and it’s still funny. At breakfast this morning someone started to get frustrated and someone else yelled, “Bullsh*#, I’d never talk to you like that!” It wasn’t even in the right context but we’re still milking it.
When they drank the last drop of enjoyment out of that I said, “Now you guys know you can’t talk like that when you get to school, right? Not at lunch? Not on the playground?”
“We know. We know. Only at home.”
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LOL LMAO!!! This made my day!
I love your blog! My husband and I both came from households that cussed, but we decided when our first was born we would try to clean up our acts. So I tried very hard to never cuss at all (OK when I hit my head on the corner of the cabinet, I cussed! loudly!) But, one day I got a call from my father-in-law (who cussed a mad streak!) who was very upset because Zac (who was about 2) had said a very, very bad word, and I got the what kind of mother are you speech. So I asked what was the bad, bad word? He said F**K, and that Zachary kept saying it over and over. I calmly told him “he is not saying F**K, he is saying Truck! My father-in-law quickly said good-bye and hung up the phone! My husband and I are still laughing and Zac is 15!
FUNny!! I can hear Zac now saying truck the best a toddler can — which, as we know from your story, sounds like…..
My son is much more polite than I am, so he doesn’t cuss. When he reached junior high age I just quit putting a filter on myself. It hasn’t changed his behavior at all. Personally, I like to think of cusswords as “action words”. They express things to a degree that standard words fail to get across.
I must add that I am most amused by people who substitute symbols for letters when writing cusswords on blogs and elsewhere. I also laugh at people who say “the F word”. If you’re going to conjure up the word to the point that we all think it, why don’t you just come out and say it? Chickens!
I, myself, like it when people say, “They dropped me from their practice when I dropped the F bomb.” Because then I don’t feel like I’m the only one that happens to.
AHAHAHAHHA!!! Only at home!! That f%$&king ROCKS!
Oh my GOSH (see, I’m learning… the Other Mommies are getting to me) I could relate to this post, Amy. I actually stopped having play-dates with a neighbor and her two boys after she told me about how she’d washed her son’s mouth out with liquid soap for saying “Oh my God.” He swallowed it, and liquid soap being POISON and all, proceeded to barf all over her house. I was secretly so happy to hear that she had to clean up puke for her evil ways and never got together with her again. I was too scared I’d offend her! I don’t need friends I have to worry that much around.
I say butt and I don’t apologize for it. Butt means the back end of anything, as in cigarette butts or the butt of a gun. Butt is not a bad word. The PC Police will never take butt from me. We say fart too, because it’s just a really funny word. It makes my three-year-old giggle, and that’s what life is all about, right?
I grew up in the country and we always peed wherever we wanted. Because of this, I’m great on road trips. You don’t have to find a rest stop for me, just pull the car over on the side of the highway and open the passenger side doors to let me squat between them. No big whoop. Totally low maintenance, we country folk.
I loved reading this blog. You are totally My People.
Tawni, you’re the best cyber bride I ever hitched up with. I’m great on road trips, too. Same reason. I get bummed out when I have to use a germy rest stop. I prefer the country roads for the privacy and the pullover-whenever-you-wantness. Hope that liquid soap lady slips and falls on puke and bangs her head.
Hello from Russia!
Can I quote a post in your blog with the link to you?
My kids are now 18 and 23 and I remember worrying about the words that came out of my mouth when they were young only to be blamed for our son cussing like a sailor one day at KinderCare. Where did he learn this? Must have been from dad because his has a fowl mouth right? Nope, he picked it up from one of his buddies, but in the interest of not ratting out his new pal he told the teacher and mom that he heard it from yours truly. I was so happy to be blamed for something I felt I had kept under control for over 7 or 8 years with my daughter and then son. We finally talked about it at the dinner table and he spilled the beans, but after that I figured I he already knew the words so I might as well teach how to use them in the right context. HAHA No, I didn’t really, but I wanted to do that. Great Post!
I hate to admit it, but I use to curse like a sailor, but learned to curb it when I had kids!
Here to follow you from MBC!
Eh, they’re going to hear it on tv. They’re going to hear it at the store. They’re going to hear it from their friends and other kids on the playground who aren’t their friends. Today it seems like we are so far from the reality bus we may as well all get high and watch Fantasia. Life isn’t always fair and kids need to learn that different rules apply in different situations (ie, kids vs adults). So, god forbid that Dad should never have a beer again because Jr might want one too.
Just like all other things in life, we should strive to teach our kids moderation and discretion. And let’s face it, nothing suffices when you’ve stubbed your toe like a good
Oh yes, I know how hard it is to clean up language for the kids! I went to grad school with a bunch of high testosterone types who loved to curse like sailors. I picked up the bad habit (and actually found it quite fun and a good stress reliever!) — it was hard to shrug off. I am happy to say that the other day, when I crushed the he** out of one of my toes, only G-rated words spewed forth. Maybe it is finally out of my system.
I wouldn’t feel too bad about cursing in front of your kids. It’s better than having them end up in drug rehab after influencing them to smoke crack. I’m just saying some bad habits aren’t so bad in the scheme of things. Cursing being one of them.
Good S*#t!
Oh my God, no, lord, no, gosh…is gosh alright? I have such a foul mouth I just know my daughter is going to end up saying some awful things… and we’ll be blackballed.
I am glad to hear I’m not alone!
gosh darn it amy!! how many times do i have to tell you it’s male cow excriment not b*##@&!$…
Holy Moley! Where is my gosh darn impulse control?
The first time Izzy cussed – S#it – We both started laughing. I think she was 4. It was funny because it was so out of the blue. We discussed not using that word but you have to have a sense of humor. I am so guilty of safe words. I use popo for butt and I’ve always said toot instead fart. Toot and popo are just funnier to me. My mom used to say “Oops I tooted.” or “I beg your pardon but I feel soooooooooo much better now.” when she burped. It’s all about the giggles.
I tried to avoid the word fart. It’s just an ugly word. I just didn’t give it a name when “James” was little. Then one day he was taking a bath, farted and said “Outnoise! Out back!” So we called it an outnoise for years, but it later got replaced with fart. We tried.
Being four years older than my sister, she was told she had to wait until she was 13 to cuss. Seeing as I passed the cussing mark years before her I took pleasure in being able to yell out cuss words at random, making sure to tell on her if she slipped.
You can bet my sister celebrated her 13th birthday by cussing up a serious storm.
I still have no idea why 13 was chosen as the ‘free to cuss’ age…
Maybe your parents knew that by 13 they didn’t stand a chance to control her language with peer pressure working against them.
OMG. You are so funny.
Just found your site and I’m enjoying it. great sense of humor you have!
I love,love, love this. Thanks for your honesty and humor, Amy!!
Thanks, Jules. I was worried I’d get flack from naughty word naysayers. So far, so good.
Sometimes there’s just no better way to express yourself than with a little BS!
I’d love to be a fly on your walls during dinnertime. You’re all hilarious.
Join us! We do have a lot of fun.
I have been lurking, and I am coming out of the woodwork. My ex called me and told me his new wife had an issue with the language the kids used and that they picked it up from me. I said I NEVER cuss (yeah right) in front of them, and perhaps it was from their friends at school….yup, that’s me, blame it on other peoples kids!!
Thank you for coming out! I always wonder who these lurkers are…