Demystifying the Bad Stuff

This week has been a bit of a blur.

Coming and going.  Managing homework, field trips, housework, volunteer engagements...life.

So, it was particularly enjoyable last night around the dinner table with my family.

Our oldest had just come home from a really fun field trip and was sharing everything he'd learned.  Our middle had gone on two field trips the prior day and was chiming in and our baby, well, she was singing, disrobing and adding in her two cents whenever she felt like it.

But it was my son's comment that struck me.

"Mom, when is it okay to say a bad word?"

Tell me what you mean.

"I don't know.  It's okay."

No, really.  Is there a bad word you heard that you want to say?

"I guess so.  Someone said (and he spelled out the following...)" H*O*L*Y  S*H*I*T and I guess sometimes, it's on the tip of my tongue to say...I*D*I*O*T...so, I was just wondering when it's okay...like when I'm a grown up?"

These are good questions.  I guess Dad and I have a policy that if you're ever curious about trying something out or wondering what it feels like to do something, we'd prefer if you tell us and then, as best as we can (not in all situations), we'll let you try it on here first.  So, do you want to say I*D*I*O*T?  It's okay, if you do.  Say it 10 times or 20...but only here.

"Nope.  I'm good.  I was just wondering."

As the kids filed away from the table and I started loading the dishwasher, my husband started laughing and said, "How about smoking crack?  Maybe a three-some?  Okay, Okay...just a little heroin?"

For fuck sake, I'm just trying to keep the lines of communication open, the house a safe place to try on the things you're not supposed to and well, cut me some slack.

He couldn't stop laughing and neither could I.

I have a feeling that bigger kids are just going to mean bigger stresses.

Maybe we should pray that they just stay little for a little longer.

Here's to saying douche canoe and ass hat as many times as you want to at home, maybe just not the crystal meth.