I don’t swear but once or twice a year – seriously. I made a strong effort once I had kids to not say anything I didn’t want to hear repeated. I am not one of those people that think it is cute or funny when toddlers swear. Sorry if you lol’d when your precious little one dropped the F bomb when grandma was over, and then shared it on Facebook.
It doesn’t offend me when others swear, per se, but I think it is overused in television shows and movies. It has lost its shock factor.
My son claims when he turns 18 (his rule) that he is going to swear all day long. Like the forbidden, he can’t wait until he’s free to say whatever he wants.
When I got frustrated last year with Christmas lights getting tangled while I’m trying to create memories, my son asked if I was about to swear. Nope. Not even close.
When I yelled at the cat for peeing on my bed, the cat’s devoted caretaker warned me not to swear at him. I didn’t.
But yesterday, after a long day of nerves (mine) and months of anticipation…it happened.
My heart broke for the six kids at my son’s school who have been working for months, giving up their Thursday evenings, half day and some Saturday hours to express their creativity, building skills, problem-solving, script writing, public speaking and teamwork. While their presentation for a multi-school competition was strong, they didn’t place in the top 6…or even have their names mentioned. My torso, that was almost lifted off the bleachers while I held my breath waiting to hear their names, slumped down. My eyes shot to the kids whose spirits and bodies, too, slumped down in disappointment.
Don’t get me wrong: I do not believe any other team didn’t deserve their placement. They probably did. I am also not “that mom” that believes every child deserves a medal for showing up, that is not real life. I want my son to experience defeat from time to time to keep him grounded and better prepared for the real world. He’s already experienced a whole lot of loss in his life and has learned to bounce back with his head held high. He’ll be fine despite his discouragement in the short-term.
As we walked to the car following the awards ceremony, I tried so hard to look at the positive and not be a sore loser. But I was honest, too. I told my son that I am really shocked and disappointed that their score was not better, because I was sure they deserved one of the top spots. My son asked me if this situation was worthy of swearing. My immediate reaction was “no.” After I heard the click of the safety buckle on my toddler’s car seat, I placed the umbrella stroller in the back and said, “Well, maybe.” By the time I sat myself down in the driver’s seat and took a deep breath I said, “Yes. Yes it is.” ….
“Damn it! You kids deserved better!”
My son’s eyes welled up with tears and I told him it is ok to cry when you are sad or disappointed. It’s ok. It’s ok to let out that frustration temporarily, in the right environment. We agree that we waited until we got to our car, didn’t make a scene, didn’t doubt anyone else’s ability, and didn’t blame others. We knew they did a great job and did it on their own; their ideas, their words, their work.
What have you experienced that made your heart break for your kids? Have you made it ok for your kids to be frustrated, cry, or express anger…in the right environment? When have your kids witnessed you as a human being that had hurt or frustrated feelings? Did you handle it well or not-so-much?
Thank you so very much for reading this gosh darn bleeping post. I appreciate you. 🙂