Profanities

In our house of late we've discussed introducing a family swear jar. The German and I swear more than your average inner-western Sydney couple and while we've discussed our language before it's never been quite so pertinent an issue as now, being that our daughter has turned into a parrot. Cue her dropping bombs left, right and centre. 

I'd have to say the worst thing about the whole baby-swearing thing is that H actually uses the words in context - which says loads for her intelligence but not much for my mothering skills. Playing with her toys she CONSTANTLY says "Oh God! Oh God! Ohhhhh gawwwwd!" which gives me great insight into what my own favourite phrase must be. The blocks fall down - "Oh God!" Bunny falls out of his bed - "Oh God!" She can't get the right shape into the right hole? Ohhhhhhh gawwwwwd!

Now the whole "God" thing doesn't really offend me, particularly given that I'm not religious and I'm not fifty, but it doesn't sound great coming from the mouth of someone who still wears a nappy. Still, I wasn't stressing over it until the latest milestone - "Oh shit!"

My darling daughter is clever enough to save this one for particularly frustrating moments, such as dropping her banana or falling over. "Oh SHIT!" she will cry. Which of course fills me with pride and gives me cause to pat myself on the back for the great job I'm doing raising her. 

So the words God, Shit, Bloody and of course the big one, F!@#, are banned in our house going forward. We're hoping she will "grow out of it," just as we're hoping she'll grow out of hitting and having so much energy. Time will tell.

Interestingly, today I quietly asked her if she had done a fart which caused her to giggle and scream "Fart! Fart! Fart!" Happily we were in public, hooray! We may have to adopt the term "Fluff" from here on in. You guys know where the party's at!

Z xx