It was a typical afternoon, and my 4-year-old daughter, Mia, and I were enjoying a quiet moment in the bank drive-thru, eagerly discussing which flavor of lollipop she would get today. Just then, the dreaded moment arrived: the bank tube returned empty, containing nothing but a receipt. I took a deep breath and said, “Oh no, Mia! It looks like the lady forgot to put the lollipop in.” I tried to keep my tone upbeat, adding, “What a bummer! We’ll just have to remember to get one next time.”
The seconds felt like hours. Mia was silent for a moment, and then, as if on cue, she shouted, “Dammit!” Her colorful art supplies flew from her lap and landed on the floor of our minivan.
I had to suppress my laughter. It was a little amusing, and I couldn’t deny a sliver of pride knowing that my little girl had used that word in just the right context. I mean, who wouldn’t feel a bit of frustration over a bank tube that failed to deliver a sweet treat?
I took a moment to explain that “dammit” is a word that’s meant for adults and shared some alternative expressions for her to use instead, like “oh, rats!” or “shucks.” I thought our conversation had gone well until later that day when my 9-year-old, Clara, informed me that Mia had been trying to ask Siri a question. When Siri’s response was unhelpful, Mia had slammed the iPad down and exclaimed another enthusiastic “dammit!”
Clearly, my earlier words of wisdom had not taken hold. A few days later, when I told Mia that the Broncos lost, she confidently replied, “Oh, bammit!” It seemed she had found a creative loophole!
This wasn’t our first experience with colorful language. At just 2 years old, Mia had gone through a phase of dropping the F-bomb with surprising accuracy. Anytime she spilled her snacks, she would whisper, “Ohhhh, f***.” I vividly remember taking her on a family road trip, praying she wouldn’t blurt that out in front of my 92-year-old grandmother. Initially, I tried to ignore her outbursts, hoping it wouldn’t become a game for her, until the day she said it at childcare. Thankfully, her friends didn’t pick up on it, and I managed to gently explain to her that it wasn’t an appropriate word to use. Eventually, she stopped.
Contrastingly, my eldest daughter Clara, the quintessential firstborn, was much more cautious. She once asked me for her pink pants, only to discover they were still wet in the laundry. Without missing a beat, she exclaimed, “I guess I’ll just have to wait ‘til fuckin’ morning!” I couldn’t help but laugh, grateful my back was turned. When I casually asked what she had said, she quickly adapted, “I guess I’ll just have to wait ‘til crummy morning!” And just like that, her swearing days were over.
Here’s the thing: I don’t see swearing as a huge problem. It’s clear that my kids have picked up these words from me; there’s no denying it. While I try to minimize my swearing around them, it’s not my top priority as a parent. In fact, it’s not even in my top 100 concerns. They’ll hear these words eventually and learn when, how, and why to use them—just as I did. I trust that they’ll turn out to be wonderful individuals regardless of their occasional slip-ups.
Interestingly, Mia has taken it upon herself to monitor language in our house. She won’t let anyone get away with saying the worst word of all: “stupid.” She even calls out TV characters who dare to utter it. My children understand that truly hurtful words like “hate,” “shut up,” “fat,” and “ugly” are off-limits, while the rare “dammit” from a kind-hearted child? I can live with that.
If you’re interested in reading more about parenting challenges, check out this insightful post on navigating the complexities of early language. For those considering home insemination, a reputable source for at-home insemination kits can be found at Make A Mom. Additionally, you can learn more about assisted reproductive technologies through the CDC’s resources.
In summary, while swearing can be a tricky subject in parenting, it’s often more about the intent behind the words than the words themselves. Children will learn and adapt, and as parents, we can guide them in understanding the nuances of language without making it a battle.
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