Cursing Like a Mommy

I was writing a post about my drinking and I wanted to reference my post on cursing when I remembered that that wasn’t a post but a ParentWise column, from 9 months ago or so. Stay tuned for Part II, you know, about the drinking.
#$%#$%*($#*%# this #$#$%#$% piece of #$%#$%#$! I imagine the guy who invented car seat buckle that needs three hands to secure and I get so mad! What was he thinking? Is he trying to piss me off? He does NOT have kids, I KNOW he does NOT have kids, not even any nieces or nephews, because if he did he would not require the left and right inside pieces to line up exactly before they can be inserted in the outside buckle! @#$%@#$#@ @#$@#$ @#$#@$@#$ 2#$@#$!

I’m not foul mouthed in general. When I managed a student radio station in college I learned to curse, as if it was a second language and it worked well for me. But just like my High School Spanish, if you don’t use it you lose it, and I was pretty out of practice when my two girls were born fifteen years later. But, it has come back, like riding a bicycle, louder and stronger and more colorful.

Being a Mommy makes me curse like a sailor.

There is the lack of sleep for one. My youngest is 3-months-old and it was almost easier when she was a newborn and eating all night, because then I knew not to try to do laundry or go to work during the day. Now she gets up just once super early in the morning and only on some mornings, so I think I can have regular days and that is just plain wrong. Have you ever had a 7:00am flight, so you need to get up at 4:30 to get to the airport and you are super tired in the afternoon? Well, I do that every other day.

Another reason cursing is more likely to happen is that the emotional maturity required by parents is so high. Like when your baby is crying and you try to calm her down, walking, swaying, bouncing and singing, all outside of coarse, in late afternoon in June in Austin, when it is 100 degrees in the shade. Or, when your 2-year-old doesn’t want to leave the park and you need to wrestle to get her to the car seat and strap her in, as if you were reenacting a scene from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.  This kind of work doesn’t require a Phd, but it takes the patience of a saint and that is hard to do, especially when you are tired.

And the cursing alone thing, well, that isn’t as weird as it sounds. If I were at work, I could go to a cube down the hall and share my frustration with a co-worker, but most of the time when I’m with the kids, there isn’t another adult around. Part of my cursing alone is because I’m alone in the first place.

So, I #$@$@#$ curse.

But, on my better days, I know I want to do better. I want to show my girls the energy and spirit that I want them to learn. I want them to feel the grace of meeting each day and each buckle with a warmth and confidence that isn’t bothered by the details. I would rather they didn’t learn the words Stupid #$%#$%# Buckle quite yet.

Ah, grace. How do I be graceful in wishing I was more graceful? How do I not loose patience with my lack of patience?

Yeah, if I knew that I wouldn’t $%#$% curse so much. For now, I will just try a little each day and give myself a little extra time to secure the car seat buckle.