Dear Little Elli,
I saw that glimmer in your eye. Let me replay the scenario for you.
I was taking a basket of clothes into your room. Please remember this important life lesson: Laundry baskets have approximately one inch on either side with which to clear a doorway. As I manage to do at least twice a month, I missed my one inch window on one side and slam my knuckles into the woodwork on the doorway. Needless to say, it hurt.
Me: "SHIT".
You: "Mom, don't say shit. It's a nasty word."
Me: "Thank you, Elli, now will you please move out of my way so I can get a bandaid."
You may have thought I didn't notice that little glimmer when you repeated the word. Shit. I saw it, mental noted it, and went to get a damn bandaid.
Now you know. There is something about using a curse word that is just plain liberating. And there are some situations when only a curse word will properly describe your frustration, excitement, disgust, etc. You get the picture.
However, and we have discussed this before. You are not allowed to use these words...yet. The world is not fair. It will never be fair. But guess what? I am an adult and I can use whatever words I want. You are a child, and you cannot. Ha! I've been waiting most of my life to say that to someone and you, my child, are my victim. I was once a victim of the same unjust world, and the perpetrator was Nanny. I assure you, her mouth is worse than mine.
The problem with you cursing is that everything you do or say is a direct reflection on me and Daddy. Life Lesson #2 in this letter: A lot of people like to pretend they have a perfect life and a perfect family and live in a "Leave It To Beaver" world where everyone is wholesome and wonderful. I am guilty of wanting others to think I am a perfectly-put-together mom who works 40 hours a week and comes home to make casseroles and brownies and teaches you the ABC's and takes you to swimming lessons and puts you in time-out every time you misbehave instead of sometimes yelling like a lunatic and turning on Dora instead of a more enriching activity because I am F-ing EXAUSTED! (One rule...the real F-bomb is not to be used by ladies. It is trashy and can only be used in extremely rare situations. Like when I step on a lego in the middle of the night.)
But guess what? That whole "Leave It To Beaver" thing. That's bullshit. Yep, there I go again! Very liberating! You are 3 and you already know that. Everyone knows that. We just play pretend. It's fun and it makes parents all over the world feel better about themselves! We need that....because we are F-ing EXHAUSTED! (Again, we can only insinuate the real F-Bomb. Anything else would be trashy.)
So...let's just play pretend for awhile. That means don't repeat to anyone outside this family the things you sometimes hear me (or Daddy) say. Until you are 18. Then you can let em' rip. At that point you are an adult. And when you are an adult, everything is your fault. Not mine. I told you the world is not fair. But, holy shit, it is funny sometimes!
Love,
Mommy
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