It happened. It finally, happened. As a mother, your primary goal is to teach your children. Not to simply teach them, however, but to teach them well. Countless hours are spent reading, having one-sided conversations, flash cards, and looking through picture books in high hopes that your growing bundle of joy will speak. Mom, dad, hi, up, down, please, thank you, go, and dog, among others, are usually the first words. So cute. They speak and you think, "Whoa! You have a voice!" They repeat what you say to them, and eventually learn how to use the word in context. Well, today? Today, I heard a very clear repetition of something that I will not forget anytime soon.
The day was relatively normal. I got up to go to the gym, came home, ate breakfast with Jack, and then we commenced on our learning journey for the morning. Read some books, play with toys, dance to music, chase each other around while giggling and so on. I then realized that I needed to make a deposit to the bank. So, I said, "Jack, please go get your shoes, we need to go somewhere." Now, my little man doesn't really say much just yet (his first, and really only, word is uh-oh, which is fitting), but he certainly understands what I say to him. He got his shoes, stood on his tippie toes to reach his jacket, and brought both to me. He then sat down while I put his shoes on, and he helped to put his jacket on. Out we went to the car. Again, as usual, I put him into his car seat, gave him scout and proceeded to shut the door. At the last second, I realized the car keys were in the back seat, and tried a superhuman move to get them before I shut the door. I don't know what I was thinking, it just happened. I slammed the door on my own hand, and the first word I said was "[insert offending swear word here]." Okay, without a censor?
I said shit.
I don't swear very much, but when I do it's usually because I have just done something stupid that resulted in pain. Door slam on hand was one such moment. Flood back memories of countless hours of repetition on please, thank you, dad, mom, go, dog, cat.....what was that? A very small voice came from the backseat of the car. "Sthit." I looked at Jack, and realized just how much he does understand. I couldn't say "Jack! Don't say that word!" How hypocritical would that be? Instead? I started laughing. Hysterically. Talk about encouraging a bad habit, but I couldn't stop myself. Jack continued. "Sthit." Maybe I should stop him... "Jack? Mommy made a mistake. I did. I made a mistake. That's not a good word to say, and I shouldn't have said it. Don't say that word buddy, okay?" "Sthit." Oh, dear.
Well, lesson learned. Children are sponges. Smart ones at that, as well. Jack is stubborn when it comes to speaking, but the words he chooses to use fit a variety of situations. "[Swear word]" is obviously one of them. Hopefully it won't stick and maybe I shouldn't laugh, but honestly?
An 18 month old swearing with a slight lisp is downright hilarious.
