Not the Good Mom of the Year

I cuss in front of my kids. There I said it. I’ve cleaned up my act, but I do it. Yeah, there are people that disapprove, but I quite honestly don’t care. I realize there is a time and a place for everything and I was always able to just cut loose with my friends and at home, so when the kiddies came around, the 4 letter words did not totally stop. They did stop to some degree like when I heard Son#1, who was 3 at the time, yell at some guy in a parking lot that had cut me off, “Hey you F---ing A$$hole! Get out of the way!” Yikes. That curbed it. And he did not pick up my trashy mouth nor did the other two.

But it is what it is. My bad word is $hit. I say it too much. Damn too. And Hell. The F bomb has dropped a few times, but they call me on it now and I apologize and we move on. Yeah, they actually call me on it. The F bomb rarely happens, however, as I’ve replaced it with ‘frickin’. I thought it was a much better thing to say, but I must confess hearing ‘my frickin’ brothers’ coming out of a 5 year old’s mouth still doesn’t sound so hot. Not even when he says ‘my stinkin’ brothers’. It just still sounds so… so… vulgar.

I’ve explained to my 9 year old that he really shouldn’t say sucks. Yeah, that’s another one of my words. I’ve told them to use ‘stinks’ instead. We’re working on it. I’m trying too.

The Great Omnipotent One cusses. Oh he can get a rant going in the car. His favorite in the car was $hitbird. I had this girlfriend in high school that it used to crack up. She would imitate him to our friends. She LOVED riding with TGOO driving, in great hopes she’d hear him yell at someone, “You GD, $hitbird! Where did you learn to drive?!!! Get out of my way!” So I did come by it honestly, although $hitbird is not one of my words.

My husband does not cuss like I do. Trust me, he is no saint, however. I married an Italian from “Joisey”. He can let a good old fashioned Italian rant fly when he wants, but he doesn’t cuss much and when he does, his two words are Sunnamabitch and A$$wipe. Which is where this story is going.

We were in the car yesterday, the boys and I. Sons 2 and 3 were fighting… of course. Son3 turns to Son2 and says, “You A$$wipe!”

Waaa! Gasp! I nearly drove the car off the road. You have to know the character in the story, this big round bubble head, blue eyes, blonde/red hair, sweetness of an angel in his face with the glint of the devil in his eyes… he is a Celtic colored version of his Daddy. And to hear this come out of his 5 year old mouth. I didn’t know whether to scream or laugh. I was calm and just said, “I DO NOT want to hear or know of you saying that EVER again.” The end. It’s worked before.

I said to my Better Half when he got home, “Is one of your words, A$$wipe?” to which he replied, “Ummm… yeah… who said it” and I gave him an evil eye and said, “Guess.”

I don’t know why the words I say do not get repeated back to me. I don’t know whether it’s hero worship with their Dad or if they just tune me out. I think I must sound like that teacher from Peanuts to them. ‘Wah Wah Wah Wah Waaaah’.

But see, this is where I really lose the Good Mom of the Year award, because I cannot let it die. I can’t quit laughing; I cannot quit picturing my sweet cherubic little boy yelling that awful word at his brother. So today while Son#3 was in school (kindergarten is in session, but the other grades are not), we went to Publix and Sons 1 and 2 coerced me into buying them Lunchables. I refuse typically since they are full of chemicals, but I acquiesced as a special treat and the “Look, do not tell your bro. I don’t want to hear about it from him that I didn’t get him one.”

After lunch, we had to go pick him up from school. I told them to quickly put their garbage away so he wouldn’t see it. They said, “Do you think he’ll be really angry?” to which I replied, “Are you kidding me? He’ll say to YOU (referring to Son#2) ‘I can’t believe you got a lunchable and I didn’t. That’s not fair. Blah blah blah blah blah… A$$wipe!’” at which point the boys thought that was hysterical and we laughed the entire drive to get him.

This is going to come back to bite me. I know it is. But right now, I’m just feeling happy that ‘Bite Me’ isn’t one of my husband’s expressions because I would be totally mortified if I was sitting in a restaurant with my kids, only to have Son3 get pissed off and yell at his brother at the top of his lungs, “Oh yeah! Well BITE ME!” Yeah, that would truly suck.