No Bleeping Way!

1-16-09

We had recently come across a poster filled with various dinosaurs that Bobby loved. Ken got some Scotch tape and affixed it to his bedroom wall. It was up for a few days when he came running to find me.

“Mommy, come!” he said with a serious tone. I followed him to his room where he then proceeded to gesture towards the poster. The top right corner had come down, and the poster was now folded over a bit. Bobby then explained what was going on.

“It’s all fucked up, Mommy.” There was no malice in his voice. It was a statement. It was matter of fact. He wasn’t screaming profanities at the top of his lungs. He wasn’t telling someone to fuck off. He just wanted me to understand the situation at hand.

I wasn’t sure what to do with his words at first. There is a huge part of me that wanted to laugh. Come on, we all know it is endlessly amusing when a toddler swears. Look at how many hits Funny Or Die.net got when Will Ferrell was out acted by a 3 year old who needed her mouth washed out with soap. It is taboo, but an innocent one that allows us to find humor in it.

Of course, the responsible parent in me also piped up. It was jumping up and down in the back of the crowd of reactions trying to make sure his voice was heard. You can’t let your child swear at this young of an age! Its blasphemy! You have to nip this in the bud right away lest he starts swearing at the drop of a hat.

Sure, I heard his words, but then quickly cursed him out and put him back in his place.

My next thought was, well, pride. And no, not because I used to joke that I wanted his first words to be dammit. In all actuality, I was just impressed that he listens to me. Fuck is one of those words in my house that is interchangeable with any other word. It’s true. I have a potty mouth. I swear like I breathe. It is what gives me edge without having to have a weapon. So clearly Bobby heard me use the phrase, and then proceeded to repeat it.

It isn’t just that he repeated it, either. He used it in a proper sentence structure. His context was right on. It portrayed the problem clearly. Mom, the poster that is on my wall has come down and I feel that it is a problem. I am also rather disappointed in this development in the décor of my room. Of course, had he phrased it like that, I would have been even prouder, but he is only 3. How much can I expect? It’s all fucked up is clear as day to me.

During all of this though, I stood there, speechless. I even asked him to repeat what I was sure to have misheard. Nope. He repeated the phrase that pays and I was amused. I of course had to share my amusement with whomever was closest, and since Dax wouldn’t have understood (and if I was on the fence about wanting my children to swear, telling this tale to the 2 year old was only going to make matters worse), I sent Bobby in to inform Daddy of the poster incident.

What really sucked was the fact that he in deed sprinted into the other room in search of Ken to tell him. But his delivery was lacking. He only said that his poster had fallen, and did not use the colorful language that had my head swimming.

When I say swimming, I refer to this crazy pool of ideals and morals that I have to content with when it comes to my children. Everything from whether or not they can eat sugar before bedtime to what college I can afford to send them to resides in this body of water. An issue like childhood vulgarity is something that before kids I never thought I would care about. I was one of the parents that felt that I wanted to teach my kids a time and a place for this words would give them better education and would keep them from just using bad words because of their forbidden nature. If you drop a rock on your foot, you should be able to scream out anything that your little head comes up with. Even if it is just “Kelly Clarkson!” I wanted my kids to be smart about language. All kinds of language. I don’t talk down to them now. They have heard the words decapitate, agitate and antagonize in reasonable sentences rather than dumbing it down in order to keep it kid friendly. I think kids deserve to know what words mean, and just because the language in Go Dog Go is basic, it doesn’t mean I can’t also read to them from Harry Potter or even Shakespeare.

That being said, swear words are just words. They are only bad when you make them bad. So shouldn’t I utilize these words just like other “grownup” words if they are actually ones I use from day to day?

However, it comes to mind that children don’t always know the time or place where a particular piece of vocabulary is appropriate. Bobby still says, “Whobody said that?” as opposed to “Who said that”. Realistically, he may not understand at this young age that saying something is fucked up may not be appropriate in all situations. If he were in his 3rd grade classroom, I would imagine said statement would get him a detention. If he were at my parent’s house, he would get laughter. If he was in public, I would get dirty looks across the board. All of these are reactions I can’t control, nor do I want to. All I can control is the education I give to my son to explain to him what the world feels about certain pieces of the English language.

So do I tell him that his choice of words was incorrect? But that is an incorrect statement since clearly the sentence made sense. Ok, do I tell him that it is not appropriate to use said language in the house? No, since I personally don’t care what he says as long as it isn’t hurtful. Ok, then where is the lesson? I suppose there isn’t one, yet. If anything, the lesson learned is that Bobby is far smarter than I think I have given him credit up until this point. He also is growing and will soon be in situations that I am not there to protect him or even laugh at his innocence.

My decision is, well, to not make a decision. As of right now, he has emulated my speech, and has done it well. I have no reason to be angry or concerned. It does mean I need to be aware of what is coming, which will undoubtedly be that talk after his preschool teacher sends home a note saying that he uses a curse word. But I think I will cross that bridge when it comes.

The other day I overheard Bobby say something was jacked up, which is another common phrase I use when I know that my swearing would be inappropriate. I smiled since I knew then that it meant that he was versatile and perhaps it really would only be a little bit of training that I would be able to show him words that he could use in place of ones that are offensive to other folks. I also was pleased when I knew that his vocabulary was not limited to just swearing. I know there will be plenty of “he said what?” moments in my future, and I also know that I look forward to every colorful one. Why worry when really, there is nothing “fucked up” about that.