Stella

I don’t usually swear on this blog. But I sometimes do in real life. It may not be ladylike, but sometimes it’s very effective in expressing how you feel about something. I don’t, however, swear all the time. I can have a long conversation without even the shadow of a curse word passing my lips. I don’t have to edit my thoughts to replace words with *beep* sounds or have to quickly think of something that will be less offensive to the other person’s ears than what I was originally going to say. To use a SATC reference, may not be a Charlotte, but I’m not a Samantha or Miranda, either. I’m more of a Carrie: I do use the words, but I can just as easily not. (Which is where my similarities with Carrie end.)

However if you heard my toddler the last couple of days, you’d think otherwise. She seems to have realized what words are curse words and what are normal ones, and somehow gathered all the ones I’ve used in the past few months in her little head and has been coming up with these expressions, perfectly timed, and sounding exactly like me. I have been lucky that my husband hasn’t heard this lovely display of the effects of my parenting, or I would never hear the end of it. I have also been lucky for her not to have broken into haiku-like reciting of a string of these colorful expressions when we are with company, especially Swiss friends, who generally swear very little and would no doubt very much frown at the proof that I do, in fact, swear often, and in front of the children, to boot!

Since this started I have tried to decrease my use of profanity even less, to almost non-existent, unless am not in the company of my daughters (or unless I hurt myself, which is when I cannot guarantee compliance with my plan.) But it doesn’t seem to help.

While I was changing her diaper yesterday, I said “Oh!” when I almost dropped something on the floor. And Stella cheerfully recited, as if on prompt: “Oh, s***. Oh, f***”. And then proceeded to giggle, when she noticed I was staring at her horrified and speechless. (And believe me, I am not often speechless. I am well known for never shutting up.)

And then last night, I was at the pc and something went wrong, and I said “What the…” and she finished my sentence: “f***” – while also staring at the screen. And then she recited “What the f***?” to which I replied: “No, we say oopsie. Oopsie!” and she shook her head and resolutely said: “No. F***.” The next minute or so were a match between “oopsie” and the f-word, until I just changed topic altogether, since oopsie didn’t seem to be prevailing.

And I wonder: how bad should I feel about this? Is this a measure of my parenting? I feel more embarrassed to admit it than I actually feel bad about it. I do not want my daughters to grow into foul-mouthed teens (and adults), but really, how bad is this?

I know what my husband would say to that. It’s very bad. It’s very very bad that they know those words. And I agree, but is it really that much of a big deal? And then I remember how stubborn Stella is. How she still, to this day, doesn’t go to sleep on her own, and doesn’t stay in her crib from beginning to end. How she doesn’t ever do anything she doesn’t want to. How she remembers everything and likes to recite things: quotes from movies, songs, funny things her sister said. And that’s when I think: Uh-Oh.

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