MAMA, WATCH YOUR MOUTH

I try hard not to swear in front of my kids. When what I really want to say is, “Holy Sh*t,” I say, “What the fridge?” or “Holy Hannah” or a recent favorite, “Jiminy Crickets.” Thaa-aat’s right – you heard me. Jiminy f-ing Crickets. Sadly, despite all this g-rated phraseology, I’ve recently learned (the hard way) that I don’t need to drop a four-letter bomb to hurt someone with my words.

My daughter was recently asked an age-old question from a grown-up she doesn’t know very well… “What would you like to be when you grow up?” She politely answered without a moment of hesitation that she plans to become an OB/GYN and help to bring babies safely into the world.

As I stood there listening to her reply, I was reminded how profoundly proud I am to be her mother– she is incredibly smart, hard-working, caring, and determined. She has all the makings of an amazing doctor. Did I say those things to our new-found friend? Nope. Instead, I said, “Eh – she’ll probably change her mind after she finds out about the day-to-day stuff that comes with it. She’s got noooo idea what it’s really like…” There it was. What my daughter heard me say was that I don’t think she can hack it and I don’t believe in her. I had, without malicious intent, belittled her goals and kicked her 14-year-old spirit right in the shins.

I’ve been cut to the quick by people who’ve said that my goals aren’t realistic - it hurts. So why did I do it? That’s a journey for another day. What did I learn from my poor showing as a mother? First, that I can be a real horse’s patoot. A big one (ahem...maybe I knew that already). The bigger lesson? My girl stands up for herself. She called me on it immediately (and respectfully – important to note) when our new friend walked away. She told me that I had hurt her feelings and wanted to know why. As much as I hated that I’d hurt her, I was incredibly happy that my daughter was honest with me and didn’t have any fear telling me how she felt. OK – way better to not have hurt her feelings to have this revelation, but I’m delighted she trusts our relationship and is confident enough to tell me when I mess up and seek an apology - goodness knows that street goes both ways. (BTW – we hugged it out and she knows I think she’ll make a kick-butt doctor.)

While I’m busy mindfully crying out non-cursing curse words like, “Hiawatha” and “Sugarfoot”, I need to be even busier making sure that I speak words that build my kids up – not put them down. Frankly, I wish I could more easily tell people when their comments hurt my own feelings. Not her, though. Not my girl. She stands up for herself. I must be doing something right.

I’ve told my kids a thousand times, “Don’t use words that hurt.” That sure-as-sugar goes for me, too. Now… where are my monkey-tooting keys??!!??