Swearing.

Yesterday on our way to church my oldest son realized he’d forgotten something at home and hollered out a perfectly timed swear word. My husband and I looked at each other. I didn’t know whether to be stern, or a little proud.

Husband: What?!

Kid: What?

Husband: What did you say?

Kid: What?

We do not have a swear jar in our family because I still need to be able to afford Costco runs and lattes. We don’t call them “bad words” we call them “adult words” because swearing is an awesome perk of being a grown up: wine, no bedtime, and swearing. I try and keep these words to myself, but one never knows when one will hit one’s head on a cupboard or get cut off in traffic.

I grew up in a conservative home where there was zero swearing. This resulted in pretty bad swearing anxiety for me in junior high. Like, how do you just slip in those words so nonchalantly? I had zero cursing chill. I’d do my best to drop a d-bomb whenever I could, but my friends would still say I never swore. DID THEY EVEN KNOW HOW HARD I WAS TRYING???

That will not be my kids future. Nope. They are being groomed for a very non-awkward transition into adulthood. You’re welcome kids. When I do overhear them I will raise my eyebrows and say WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT???! And they will be all, mom, come on.

Farting.

When I met my husband he was thrown off by the fact that I never passed gas around him. I just knew in my heart he wasn’t ready for that. When I did finally “break the barrier” he was horrified and he’s been wishing I would stop ever since. What did he think it would smell like, a field of daisies???

In my family growing up “toots” belonged in the bathroom ONLY. I don’t think I was created for that lifestyle, mostly because of stomach aches. I’ve been becoming more and more free ever since.

Recently I was in a Ross and decided to let one out in the children’s clothing aisle. I calculated that it was a silent one.

It was not.

It rang like a siren through the store, echoing off of the walls with such force that I wanted to melt into the clearance rack. I panicked, then a moment of clarity.

My sweet three-year-old was looking through the dresses. I bent down and said loudly, “OH SWEETIE DO YOU NEED TO GO POTTY?”

It was not a proud moment for me.

BUT, there are a few perks to motherhood, and this is one of them.

The point is, we are a free form farting family. My kids have zero gas shame, which is really only a problem on road trips and in church.

Dancing.

I’m not what you might call a “good dancer”, but what I lack in skill, I make up for in passion. If my song comes on it really doesn’t matter where I’m at, I gotta move, and the kids are the same way. We will spontaneously break out in dance in the car, in the grocery store, at the gas station, and on the side walk. It’s kind of like a flash mob, except the uncoordinated version.

My oldest son is the exception. He still thinks wrestling is the same as dancing, so he just starts attacking his brother and his brother starts yelling (that’s fun). He’s going to love mosh pits.

Apologizing.

Sometimes I react and my brain catches up 30 seconds later. That results in saying sorry a lot. I used to feel bad about that until one time I overheard my two middle kids in the other room getting ready for school.

Him: “OAKLEE, MOVE, YOU’RE IN THE WAY!”

*Pause*

“Sorry  Oaklee, I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

Her: “I forgive you.”

Suddenly I felt proud. None of us are perfect. Not me, not them; so apologizing well is an awesome tool to have.

***

So, we’re still reading great books and talking about confidence and kindness, but we’re also dancing and passing gas.

I love my little family exactly as we are…quirks and all.

***

What questionable things have you taught your kids??

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Whenever I don’t have a pile of laundry, I do teach them French and help them draw Rembrandt replicas with crayons. That hasn’t happened yet, but I’m projecting by the time they’re in their 30’s I’ll have reached the bottom of the basket. Pretty excited to get started.

I have gone kid-deaf. If my husband and I go anywhere together and he’s driving, I’m going to use that time to jam to tunes and pluck my eyebrows. Obviously. But, after a while I can feel his raised eyebrows boring into my soul. It really messes with a girl’s mojo. Finally the hints become far too unsubtle to ignore. “What?”

“THE KIDS.” Says husband.

“What?” I ask again.

“I’m DRIVING, can you DO SOMETHING?”

It is only then that I notice the screaming in the back seat. It has something to do with a receipt they found on the floor and who should be the proud owner of such a treasure. I try to explain that my ability to “tune-out” is a learned skill, but he doesn’t want to be my student.

There is only one reason I’m wearing a parka at school pick-up in the Spring. It wasn’t a bra day, it just wasn’t.

I have friends who don’t drink coffee. I literally cannot comprehend this lifestyle. My parenting strategy is to try not talking until I’m caffeinated.  I once was told that an apple gives you more energy than a cup of coffee. Hmmm. First of all, an apple only gives me enough energy to eat two toasted cheese bagels. Secondly, I tried it, and if apple energy makes your body feel like lead, and your mind feel like applesauce, then I had it.

Also, I’m contemplating getting a tattoo across my chest that says, “Coffee is my life.”

If I get dressed and put on makeup I’m going to go somewhere. Even if it’s the post office or the hardware store, I need witnesses. I got dressed and wore clothes today. You’re welcome. Also, next time you see a mom who is clothed and makeup-ed, take a moment to appreciate it. Maybe offer to take her picture and post it on Instagram #hottie. She meant to get out of the house at 9am and it’s 3:45. She needs the affirmation.

Kid food is the best. There is one reason I stoop to the level of chicken nuggets “for the kids”. That one reason is so I can accidentally eat fifteen of them. Why are the SO GOOD?? Okay, so I don’t buy all these things all the time (don’t judge), but let’s be real. HOW epic is macaroni and cheese? Enough said.

It is real. I have lost my mind to mom-brain. My friend forgot her name one time when she went to sign a receipt. It takes me ten minutes to remember my kids’ birth years and it involves a lot of counting. When people ask what I’ve been up to, I stare at them blankly until they’re uncomfortable. I’m not trying to hypnotize them…I’m trying to recall my week, and yeah, I got nothin’.

Socks are my nemesis. Where are they? It doesn’t matter how many I buy. And I’m long past “matching”.  Mismatched socks is like a thing in our house, but when I’m bargaining with my eight year old boy to “just see” if his four year old sister’s socks will fit…things have gotten desperate. Hi, I’d like a subscription to a 100 new pairs of socks per month. One size fits all for ages 2-30. Thank you.

Time-outs are for me. Obviously. I would think this would be a given, but you never know. Time outs are for me to sneak chocolate and watching a couple YouTube videos with adult language. Also, bonus, they come out with better attitudes and so do I.

I am that mom. When a group of kids is walking down the center of the road, it’s no longer adequate to wait until they notice me and slowly maneuver around them. This calls for a pull-over discussion about the best ways to stay alive. When there are some supervision-less children dropping the F-bomb and  twenty pound rocks off the dock near other kids heads? No problem. A mom-lecture is needed and I can deliver. It’s like a new specialty of mine.

I like my job. Dear Stranger who is so thankful to not live my life, you seem to think I got coerced into spending my time with small children. It may shock you to know that my husband doesn’t lock me in my house each day. I hang out with these little people on purpose. I might not always be a stay at home mom, but for now, I CHOSE this.

They are “busy”, but they’re also precious and hilarious. Exhausted as I may be…I’m exhausted in a pretty wonderful way.

What confession can you relate to the most?…or share one of your own!

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**Some of you have asked where I got the awesome T, I bought it here: jumpingjackjack  on Etsy.