5 Things I'd Like to Say to My Kids But Can't
1. Are you f$?&ing kidding me?
See also: Are you f$!@ing stupid? and Shut the f$!@ up.
This is for all of the badgering, incessant questions. And for my kids making me utter all of the strange phrases I never thought I'd have to say to another human being, like:
Don't drink that water. You just went pee-pees in it.
When your brother starts to cry, the Frank the Tank game has gotten too rough. TOO ROUGH!
Sadly, screaming this red-faced at my offspring is considered poor form.
2. When I was a kid, I ___...
There's no point because (a) they won't listen and (b) if it's anything sexual… I just can't. The quickest way I can think of to stunt my kids' natural sexual development is to let them know that the stork didn't drop them off. Or that Mom even existed before their birth in anything other than grainy Polaroid snapshots.
Hey there, Princess Smartypants, if those college boys mention Everclear when they bring you punch, really, just stay away…
3. Mind your own business!
Okay. I have actually started saying that. There's a thin line between teaching empathy and driving the people around you mad, and I'm failing miserably on this one. My never-stopping, always-talking toddler interferes with the soothing process of kids around us with her yammering of Who's crying? Who's crying? Who's crying? WHO'S CRYING, MOMMY?
I truly got dirty looks because of my concerned daughter.
So, I'm momentarily teaching her to be a horrible person and stick her head in the sand until she can learn to shut the f$&? up when necessary (See #1).
4. Yes, you make Mommy sad.
We've all seen the snarky onesies that say things like "Daddy drinks because I cry." And I honestly would not want to tell my daughter that she makes me sad. She doesn't. She pisses me off like crazy, but as far as the list goes of Good Things in my world, she's tops (of course, evenly tied with her brother).
But, we've started working on our "feelings" words: Happy, sad, angry, sleepy. She also knows miserable from her Mr. Happy book, and frustrated because of me.
What this means: Throughout the day, generally at any point that I either want to cry or smack someone, my daughter will say, Mommy, are you sad? And will then want reasons, explanations and details laid out as she bludgeons me to death with questions.
It is because of this frequent inquiry when I am vulnerable and generally ready to fling her out the (closed) window, that I admit I sometimes want to tell her that I'm sad, and it is her fault. You'd think I'd been brought up Catholic, eh?
5. Dora is not real. Neither is Diego. And for the love of God, there is no Caillou.
If I can get this across, can I please stop watching these fricking shows?
What would you add to this list? Or, have you bucked decorum and used these with your kids?
Tracy May is editor and contributor at It Builds Character...and other parenting cliches, a group blog about parenting survival.
Originally posted at It Builds Character.