Sooooooooo Benji has starting singing a silly song, which broadly goes along the lines of ‘F*cks Sake, F*cking Sakes, F*cking f*cking f*ck’ etc. We ignore it, taking the advice of every parent ever in existence that if we make a thing of it, we are dooooomed.
Thing is… this one is almost definitely mummy’s fault.
I swear a lot, and I’m rubbish at censoring myself. I swear when I drive, I swear when I’m tired, I swear when I drop things. I have normalised it and, like everything else I do, he is just mirroring me.
Benji is definitely going through a mummy phase, I’m the one he asks for when he wakes up, when it’s breakfast, dinner and bed time. And I can see that it’s a bit unfair on Lad Dad but it’s also not something I can control! Besides, Lad Dad gets Jake who is definitely in daddy’s boy phase. He bites mummy.
What it does mean is that Benji is my little shadow. He, rather cutely, follows me about the house, wanting to help with whatever I’m doing and telling me exciting things about myself and life.
This week, amongst other things, I learned that I’m a good maker (he means cook), that giraffes have blue tongues, that he only likes to walk on Fridays (he’s big into days of the week at the moment), that we are all good guys and the police won’t arrest us, and that I’m his mummy.
Which is helpful because sometimes after the tantrums, I like to be reminded that it’s me and not some she-devil that birthed this demon child. (I joke, I love the kid tantrums and all. Mostly.)
But it also means that I’m not alone often outside of working hours and when they’re not at nursery and this has led to a complete breakdown of my self-censoring.
Because I like to swear, and I know it’s not ‘becoming of a lady’ or whatever (sigh plus eye roll) and I genuinely only do it when it’s warranted. I like the way the words sound as they come out, all harsh letters and ANGER and it’s the release I need for whatever is annoying me.
I’m not a monster. I don’t swear professionally or anything. And I’d never swear in front of other people’s kids (at least I don’t think I do) but around my own, I seem to have forgotten to stop it. Recent events have been a worthy reminder that I need to get back to the parenting deal we make… not to utter filthy curse words.
We were at our friends house for a play date the other day, watching Scotland win the rugby, and eating seasonal party food instead of lunch – because that’s what we do every year, its bloody awesome and you’re not allowed to judge us. And Benji was swearing away like some kind of dirty mouthed squaddie… and it was SO hard not to laugh. But we know if we do, we’ll just make the problem worse. And what if their toddler starts doing it too – will all our friends drop us?
Luckily these friends seemed to be ok about it, but not everybody is going to feel that way. I will, I WILL, be more self aware.
We’re returning the party food favour on Sunday. I hope we’re not returning the wildly inappropriate swearing though…
Thanks for f*cking reading.
Mummy And Her Lads 