It is mid-December and somewhere out there the 2012 Parent of the Year nominations are due.  The following is my submission for, uh, ….. myself:

Last month, our family traveled down to Washington D.C. for the weekend and on Saturday night Chase and I found ourselves standing in the literary section of Urban Outfitters in Georgetown.  Noah was at a Bar Mitzvah and Dave was shopping elsewhere in the store while Chase and I browsed.  Suddenly he yells, “MOM!”

Remember when your children were babies and you could recognize their cries?  There was the hungry cry, the tired cry, the ear infection cry, etc – all sounding seemingly the same to everyone else but you?  Well, the same holds true when they get older for the MOM yell.  And this one was the “I-want-to-buy-something-Mom.”

And indeed he did.

MOM! We have to get this for Noah!

Something for his brother?  Am I hearing correctly?  Granted, Chase is definitely the more generous of the two brothers but suggesting a gift for Noah when he hadn’t found anything for himself was rare.  I walked over to see what he was holding and I immediately understood.  He had found the perfect gift for Noah.

I have spoken here before about my leniency around (and participation in) cursing in my home.  Indeed, I rarely get exercised about use of the “F” word, if used properly in a full sentence.  We use the “S”, the “D” and the “A” words in our morning greetings to one another.  But there are certain words that the boys know they should NEVER say out loud, (one rhymes with stunt).  While Noah took to cursing like a sailor, my sweet Chase has never been able to utter much worse than Dang it!   And I love them both dearly.

So there we stood in Urban Outfitters, flipping through this book, which has two flaps of words to create your own cursing combination.  Chase couldn’t contain his amusement.  And neither could I.  Together we conjured up a few dozen gnarly phrases, each one seemingly funnier than the last.  Dave soon joined in and, as we left the store after purchasing this treasure, we determined that our favorite word combination was….

Shit Waffle

None of us could say it without giggling.  But we practiced hard, calling each other shit waffles for the rest of the night.  And then calling a rather perplexed Noah a shit waffle when we picked him up the next morning from his friend’s house.  We have been calling each other shit waffles now for weeks – and it still hasn’t gotten old.

A few important details for the Parent of the Year nomination.  The boys are not permitted to share this book with friends without asking us first (so we can assess their parent’s level of horror and make the call.)  Also, there are some truly, truly offensive words in this book – and the grossness multiplier is extremeley high when they are combined.  They are not allowed to use these combinations outside the house.  And the c-word ban is still in full effect (as it, too, is in the book).

I have had my fair share of special moments with my sons.  We have created memories picking apples, doing crafts, hitting the zoo.  But nothing compares to the bonding that took place as we went through that book and cursed each other out in new and awful ways.  It was probably one of the most real moments in our relationship.  My guys felt safe having fun and doing what teenage boys love to do… but with their mother.   If it was wrong to buy them that book and go through it more times than Goodnight Moon, then I don’t want to be right.

If we have any self-esteem at all, as parents we raise our children with the subliminal goal of creating newer versions of ourselves.  I curse when I need to express myself in a certain way and this approach has been effective for my sanity and ability to communicate.  But I want my guys to understand that there are times when cursing has a purpose and times when it is absolutely not appropriate.  Teaching them the difference has begun in earnest with this book and I must say, they are honor students in their understanding of it all.

My final point in my Parent of the Year bid is this:   Other nominees may appear to be more worthy for their teaching of patience, charity, justice and kindness to their offspring.  But I am the only contender who serves her kids shit waffles for breakfast.

Please let me know where to pick up my trophy.

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter