The F Bomb

I have really been trying to be a good mom. I try not to lose my temper too often, to understand where my son is coming from when he's throwing a tantrum and to play at least as much as I discipline. The inconsistencies that we have to deal with as parents are astounding... For example, we're trying to teach my son to share with others. For the most part, he's very good at it - as good as a 19-month-old can be. The problem is, that he's learned the word share, and therefore expects us to share with him as well. Food, no problem. Coffee, beer, wine...problem. So, we tell him that there are certain things that are only mommy and daddy things, things that little boys can't have. I'm sure he wants to know why there aren't certain things that are only his things, but he hasn't learned the words to vocalize this yet. Nevertheless, I can see it in his eyes. This is among the things we struggle with as parents.

Our son is also developing quite a vocabulary very rapidly. He is really a little ocular sponge, and often surprises us with the things he comes up with. This leads to the obvious conclusion that we really have to watch what we say! We really don't have potty-mouths, but even some topics of conversation are probably not appropriate, and we've been making a concerted effort to self-edit.

This brings us to this morning. I am very under the weather today, some kind of stomach bug that is also some form of temporary narcolepsy (not really, I'm just REALLY tired and can fall asleep at the drop of a hat...most likely a combination of the pregnancy and the illness). Bottom line...I was not in top form. Our son and I were playing on the floor with his building blocks, and I got tired and so laid my head down on the floor when *WHAM* he hits me in the head with a big wooden dog. Yowsa did it hurt - and before I could even think about it, I dropped the big F-bomb! I was horrified but also speechless with pain and tears in my eyes. I am not sure that my son even registered what I said, he was so startled by my reaction to what happened. He and his dad went and got me the boo-boo kitty out of the freezer, and I had a nasty headache. Our son said that he was sorry and kept checking too see that I was ok (but he was also crying because he couldn't have the boo-boo kitty too). He and his daddy went outside to play, and I'm pretty sure that he rapidly forgot about it as soon as he got on his bike. I think that I am much more traumatized.

What comes from all this? Probably not much, but next week when our son surprises his teachers at day care with the F-bomb, we all know who to hold responsible!