And here we have a cautionary tale of why you must try to minimise the use of swear words around toddlers…or at least the emotional charge that accompanies them.
Two Saturdays ago as per our weekend routine, Krys was to take Roz out for the morning so they could both leave me in peace to get some “me” time.. except that instead of me staying at home, I decided to go to the office and finish off. my essay for college…
….okay I lie, start my essay and finish it off the same day.
Anyhoo, when I left, there apparently was a mad panic for them to get out of the house and catch the bus. with a few minutes to go, Krys couldn’t find Roz’s grey hat. He had her in front in the sling, backpack on the back, keys in hand and no hat. he told me that he tore the place apart looking for the hat and eventually in frustration said,
“Where’s the fucking hat!”
And then apologised to Rozalia in case she thought he was yelling at her.
well, they eventually found the hat and were on their way
Fast forward to early last week and we were all home. Rozalia wanted to go on an adventure with her dad. she’s so cute. she usually gets all dressed and then stands in front of you and says,
“mummy, you want to go on an adventure with me?”
The heart just melts!
Anyhoo, she wanted to go on an adventure with Krys and had her shoes on, her fleece, her scarf, her weatherproof jacket, and she turns to Krys and says in the sweetest of voices and with no inflection at all,
“Daddy, where’s my fucking hat”
Well, Krys nearly died. It took all his strength to keep a straight face and ask,
“My fucking hat, daddy. where’s it gone?”
Oh, my ribs. I nearly wet myself when Krys was telling me the whole sordid tale.
See, I swear quite a lot at home. I rarely swear at work unless I’m really annoyed, and that happens rarely and I’m usually annoyed at myself and swear under my breath if you know what I mean? And when I do swear at home, it’s become such a regular part of my vocabulary (I know, I know) that there’s no emotional charge to teh word. But when Krys swears…oh, you know there’s something wrong.
so in a way I’m glad she picked up her first swear word from him as opposed to me, or I’d never have heard the end of it.
But the whole episode made me think of how easily influenced children are as a whole. How they…I don’t know if absorb is the right word? They take things on themselves so easily. They learn all their emotions by how the adults in their world interact ith them, each other and other people that are encountered every day.
And again it makes me so guilty, always guilty, that for five days a week, my daughter spends ten hours a day with people I don’t know. people I am relying on the government and another group f people I don’t know to vet and decide that they are qualified to care for my child.
It’s moments like that when I wish I could afford a nanny, someone who can dedicate their hole day to my one child instead of looking at her as a ratio of adult to child in a playroom somewhere.
Or better yet, if I could afford to just stay home and look after my daughter myself. I don’t know. Is it anti-feminist to want to just stay home and take care of your child? or is it the ultimate feminist stance? To be able to decide your own fate and be happy with it and shift and change as the need applies?
I wish there was just a magic wand that could balance out everything.
I guess till then, I’d just keep feeling trying to enjoy the hours each day that we have together and hope she just turns out right….despite the odd swear word.