“Um, Ma’am…can I see you in my office for a second?”
I had never been called into the daycare office before and I was concerned something serious had happened. Low and behold, it was nothing more than a stern talking to about my five year old son walking around letting all the other children know what he thought about a toy.
This firetruck is fucking ridiculous.
I stifled my inappropriate laughter and tried my best to see the seriousness of the situation. In the meantime, I found myself way more impressed that he used the word ridiculous than I was mad that he said the godforsaken F-word.
The pairing of the two however, was no surprise. The two word combination comes out of my mouth, on the daily.
Some parents might start making a conscience effort to watch their language around their child’s developing brain – I chose to simply sit down and have a conversation with my five year old.
There are Grownup Words and there are Kid Words.
Fuck, and all the variations of it… are grown up words and finished up the talk by providing him some kid-friendly alternatives. I also explained that not all grown ups use such language… just the passionate ones.
Just kidding… I did not tell him the passionate part, but I do believe it.
I continued to swear like a sailor for the next four years and my now nine-year-old son still thinks Crap is a swear word. I’m winning this thing called parenting. The simplicity behind it is that I can say whatever I want (within responsible reason), whenever I want and he cannot.
My son is not allowed to drink beer, which he witnesses me do. He’s aware the he is not allowed behind the wheel – yet sees me drive on the daily. If he stumbles out of bed and sees me awake past 2am, guess what, he doesn’t get to ask me why I’m allowed to do it and he’s not. If I want to drink 3 sodas in one day – in front of my child – he still knows he doesn’t get to do that. The best part, is not having to finish my fucking dinner.
That is the difference between being an adult and being a child. Call it a perk for getting through childhood if you will. Parents who cuss, believe it or not, can raise some pretty well-rounded offsprings. As passionately as I speak, I’m equally passionate about being a parent and making sure he grows up to be a functioning member of society…
Be grateful there’s a place at all… sleep out in the rain if you want.
It’s not my fault we’re in this godawful situation, but her tone always implies otherwise.
I rested my unwashed head and couldn’t help but wonder if the overripe stench was me or this questionable pillow. Fighting it, my eyes shifted in the direction of my mother; watching her body sob silently, I drifted.
I love you, kid.
I heard it, I’m just not sure if it was real or if I was dreaming.
This flash fiction entry was written in response to Friday Fictioneers.The objective of Friday Fictioneers is to challenge yourself to write a 100 word or less story that is influenced by a single photo. If you’d like to learn more and/or participate, click on the photo prompt above.
Why does it matter that the coconut butter I smeared on my growing stomach did not prevent the lines from forming from the top, all the way to the bottom? Women’s bodies are capable of creating human beings – and there are many things that happen along the way as a result of that phenomenon…
Not to be all gross or anything but, should we start a movement about poo-ing on the delivery table while giving birth? Is that beautiful, too? …It was part of the process, and as much as we all hope it doesn’t happen – it’s natural.
The stretch marks that are on my belly & sides due to carrying a human inside my body will never grace the walls of my social media. I have no problem with the women who proudly display what their bodies went through, more power to them. Me? I would rather focus on the hard work that goes into parenting my offspring rather than the hard work my body went through to get him here.
I’m not shaming the #LoveYourLines campaign, movement… whatever you want to call it – it’s just there are so many other things we could focus on. Women constantly voice their desire to be noticed for things outside of physical appearances & their bodies – yet here we are putting a lot of attention on just that.
Being a mother is rewarding on so many levels that, to be honest, stretch marks are the last thing on my mind. I’m thinking about the future of my child & where we go from where we are at right now. How far we have come since the day he made his appearance and what we will do next week to expand his portfolio of experiences.
My body and the marks on it, have no bearing on any of those things.
In case you’re someone who hasn’t asked me yet, I have zero plans to create any more human beings. The words, ‘Perfectly Content’ come to mind when I think about the three person operation I have going on.
We have a dad, a mom and our 8 year old.
Being pregnant wasn’t a negative experience & has nothing to do with the choice I’ve made. I loved being pregnant. Growing a person inside your body is kind of an amazing experience & I’d totally do it again…If I didn’t have to be thrown back into infant parenting.
Have you ever gotten married, and then told people you weren’t trying to make a
baby? It’s interesting. Depending on the person, the emotions vary. You have the really disappointed grandparents, the new-parent-friends who want to make sure you’re sure it’s the right decision & then there are the people who just stare at you – confused.
Allow me to explain:
My child is currently basking in his independence and we all love it. Why would I want to disrupt that?
He’s old enough to appreciate awesome day trips [that he’ll remember] and he can play outside without supervision. He helps out around the house AND he’s fun to be around.
I was young when I had my human & I will be young when he moves out. I didn’t plan it this way; I thought I’d have more than one, but before we knew it he was eight years old. Who wants to start all over again when you’re about half way done?!
Let’s talk about money; I do not swim in it. I want to provide my son with as much security and awesomeness as possible. Unlike a lot of my generation, I don’t agree with bringing more children into the world when we’re not financially prepared for it.
I made that mistake once while it all worked out, I learned from it.
Our entire dynamic would change if an infant was introduced to our family. I don’t even remember what it’s like to have a baby. I don’t remember what it’s like to have a toddler. Having legit conversations with my offspring… it’s what I’ve gotten used to.