Category Archives: Guilty Mama

The Things We (Don’t) Say

(WARNING: Blog Contains Explicit Language)

Did you see the pilot for “Up Al lNight” with Christina Applegate and Will Arnett?  One of the bits in the new sitcom was about how they had to stop cursing in front of their baby. The opening scene had them peering down on her in her crib saying things like “She’s so f—–g beautiful” and “I can’t believe we’re f—–g parents.”

It’s pretty simple.  If you don’t want your kids to swear, don’t swear.  However, we all do it, and that’s when you have to do some actual parenting and explain to your children (like a billion times) why these words aren’t nice.  And possibly give time outs.  And take away “Cars 2: The Video Game” privileges.  And hope they don’t walk into their classroom at school and say “fuck-a-doo” to their teacher like they’ve been doing at home.

And don’t forget about potty-talk like stinky-face and stinky-butt.  No big deal at home, right?  Well, at camp this summer, Dylan yelled “Goodbye stinky face!” to one of his friends, except there was a teacher standing between them and it looked like he said it to her.  I made him apologize, but the look on her face made it clear that he was dead to her.  The lesson there was that potty-talk can be as dangerous as an f-bomb.

Sometimes we just don’t want our kids to know what we’re saying.  In this case, I spell.  D has to get a s-h-o-t today.  Or, D is going to the d-e-n-t-i-s-t tomorrow and I’m  f-u-c-k-i-n-g dreading it. Or, D’s teacher asked me if he has a h-e-a-r-i-n-g p-r-o-b-l-e-m.  (He doesn’t.)  Spelling isn’t for everyone.  It requires a high level of attention – for the speller and the listener – and might not work if the television is on, the kids are whining or your smart phone is within reaching distance.  My best advice is to spell words that have less than six letters.  Of course, Dylan has begun learning his letters and sounds, and he watches the “Letter Factory” non-stop, so this technique will soon be w-o-r-t-h-l-e-s-s (sorry, that was more than six letters).

I have a friend who refers to her daughter as “Sylvia” whenever she talks about her in front of her.  For instance, she’ll say, “Sylvia isn’t going to so-and-so’s birthday party.” Just last weekend, Mike said something to me about Dylan but referred to him as “Derek.” I have no idea what he actually said because I was fixated on his code name choice.  Personally, I would have used Declan.  That’s the name I would use if I had a third child and it were a boy.  But I’m not having any more kids, so it’s more likely that Declan will be a dog or a fish’s name (or if my worst pet nightmare comes true, a lizard’s name). As you can see, code names are distracting for me.

In the end, whether you spell or use pseudonyms, it’s all about doing the best you can to protect your kids from stuff they may or may not need to hear. Still, sometimes we find ourselves in difficult situations.  Sometimes we end up talking, arguing and maybe even cursing or crying about our children and all of their idiosyncrasies and challenges right in front of them.  With no spelling and no code names.  And they hear all of it and they understand a lot of it.  Then what?

I recently found myself in this unfortunate scenario and was only able to stop after Dylan yelled, “Mommy, stop talking!”  What he meant was, “Stop talking about me!”  I did what any Loving (and very Guilty) Mama would do.  I stopped talking.  I hugged my little boy as tight as I could, kissed him until he forced me to stop out of annoyance, told him how special he was and how much I loved him, and hoped I hadn’t screwed him up for good.  And then I took his lead and moved on.  Kids are amazingly good at not dwelling or holding grudges. And then I promised myself that I would never do anything that f—–g i-r-r-e-s-p-o-n-s-i-b-l-e (too many letters again) in front of Declan again.


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Filed under cursing, Guilty Mama, parenting

What A Difference A Day Makes

I often say, “What a difference a year makes,” about my boys as they grow in leaps and bounds leaving babyhood behind.  Today, I can’t help but think, what a difference a day makes.  I don’t know why there’s such a stark difference between September 11th and September 12th, but there just is.  Period.  Yesterday, I was a Sad, Exhausted,Reflective, Irritable and Impatient Mama. Today, I’m a different person.

To start, I’m a Guilty Mama.  (Familiar territory.)  I think I’m a Guilty Mama every Monday morning merely because of the relief I feel after dropping the boys off at school.  For me, Mondays are quiet and peaceful –like Saturdays probably are to most non-parents – and I cherish them.  I’m also a Guilty Mama (and Guilty Wife) today because I selfishly wanted yesterday all to myself to mourn the day, but I made no arrangements to do so and then took my frustration out on the whole family.

Thankfully, I’m a Rested Mama today.  I’ve haven’t slept well in awhile.  Every night has been a new nightmare and every morning has come too early thanks to my little roosters.  Last night, however, the boys went  to sleep before 8pm.  It was 7:41pm to be exact, and I know this because I looked at the clock in awe after we closed the boys’ bedroom door behind us.  Riley actually fell asleep cuddled in my arms on the couch while Dylan sat next to me playing “Cars 2” on the Xbox.  It was a beautiful moment in an otherwise ugly day.  I was in bed and asleep before 9:30pm and slept soundly – except for one wake-up from Harry– until 7am this morning.  (Thank you, Mike, for answering the roosters’ calls.)

I’m a Wet Mama.  I got caught in a soaking rain this morning on my walk and it was glorious. I don’t mean to be dramatic and suggest the rain was some kind of soul cleansing experience, but the truth is that it did feel a little bit like a heavyweight was being washed away.  I remember running a few 5Ks in New York City in the pouring rain and those were the races that felt like the biggest accomplishments.  There was no 5K today, but my mind was racing and the rain forced it to stop.  For the first time in a long while, I felt 100% present in the moment.  I was wet and happy, and I wasn’t thinking about (or worrying about) anything except how funny it was to look up and see blue sky even in the pouring rain.

Finally, I’m a Laundry Mama.  Everyone’s sheets are getting washed today and that alone is a fresh start to the day and the week ahead.  I’m getting a haircut tomorrow, I havea girls’ night out on Thursday, and the winners of the CBS Miami Most Valuable Blogger Awards will be announced on Friday.  (Thanks again to everyone who voted!) 

There’s plenty to worry about.  The world is filled with hate, Dylan still won’t eat new food, and Riley might lose his two front teeth, but at least it’s September 12th.  What a difference a day makes.  

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Filed under anxiety, bad dreams, Guilty Mama, September 11th