I owe my seven year old daughter fifty cents. We made a pact this week. Every time I swear, I give her fifty cents and she puts it in her piggy bank. If someone is just getting to know me they are shocked to learn I cuss like a sailor. I don’t know why my otherwise, soft and gentle disposition leads them astray. Nice girls can cuss with the best of them. I guess moms aren’t supposed to swear. I call bullshit. (Damn, that’s fifty cents. Oops, make it a dollar.)
The part I want to change is cussing in anger, cussing at my kids. Because when I swear in anger those otherwise meaningless words carry hurt. If I spill a bowl of soup or trip over the dog and oh shit comes out of my mouth I don’t see that as damaging, but telling my kids to shut the fuck up should definitely be classified as out of line, cruel and to use mommy speak, not acceptable.
This is why I asked my daughter how much I should pay her every time she hears me swear. She first said, two dollars. To which I replied, oh ship. Phew, I get to keep fifty cents.
I hope I am teaching her that I am aware of my mistakes, but I am willing to change my behavior when I see it is hurting others. My long standing belief that swear-words are empty and meaningless can crash with the rest of the world and most importantly with the world that contains my children. So I am learning to reign in the truck driver speak and at the same time, my daughter is getting rich.