You may have noticed by now that I have a little bit of a foul mouth.  Is it lady like?  No.  Is it appropriate?  Some would say it’s not, I say it depends on the situation.  Sometimes you just have to say a dirty word and actually saying ‘dirty word’ in place of the actual thing is kind of stupid.  Just say chosen epitaph and be done.  In my case, it could be possible that I am a little too salty.

I curse in front of my children, I’m not raising naïve children.  I curse in front of my parents, where, pray tell, do you think I learned such vocabulary?  When I was a kid parents didn’t curse like they do today.  You never heard the F-bomb from your parents when you were a kid, now days some parents drop it like it’s the only big word they know.  While my parents cussed in front of us, they also taught us that these words came with responsibility, consequences, and were only appropriate in certain scenarios.  Jennifer and I couldn’t say ‘fart’ until we were something like 10-years-old.  We got to start saying ‘crap’ around thirteen and stopped getting scolded for dropping ‘piss, damn or shit’ around the ages of seventeen and eighteen.  Because of the cursing rules and regulations in our house, I wasn’t one of those kids that dropped every dirty word I could once I was out of parental ear range.  It just wasn’t a big deal to us to rebel in such a way.  So you fully understand, these ‘rules’ were written or something M&D sat down and explained to us, I think it’s one of those things where you have to pick your battles as a parent, wing-it, and make up some rules.  My parents aren’t stupid, my mom was an educator, she knows what punky little kids like to say and do when they are away from their parents or think they have no adult supervision.  They all of a sudden think that dropping every curse word in one sentence equates to being cool.  In my opinion, J&L were just trying to stay ahead of the game.  I will never forget the first time I head my dad drop the f-bomb.  Dad and I were headed to Maw Maw’s for dinner and an 18-wheeler blew past us and clearly startled my dad so much that he yelled ‘FUCK!’  My eyes got big, his eyes got big, I started laughing uncontrollably, he started apologizing then started laughing.  The whole thing ended with his typical statement ‘if I wanted your mother to know about this I would tell her myself.’  Enough said.  As far as mom goes, I don’t remember the exact time but I do know that I was a married mother the first time I heard that word come from her mouth.  And, if memory served me right, I believe it was something regarding my dad.  Something along the lines of ‘your father and his fucking tools/golf clubs/ideas/!’  A look of utter shock crossed my face before I started laughing uncontrollably and ribbing her for dropping the F-bomb.  With this said, just because I heard my parents curse didn’t mean I had a free ticket to be a salty kid or teenager.

Now that I am a mother, I have a better grasp on why it’s important to have said rules for dirty rules.  I have, if you will, passed along the rules of cursing to my kids.  I don’t like to hear them say ‘fart’ it’s just so crass and Parker, at twelve-years-old, is pushing the envelope with ‘crap and sucks.’  Yes, I cuss in front of my children, and yes, I have dropped the f-bomb in front of my kids far more often than my parents in front of me, but, times, they are a changin’.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not by any means saying it is ok or that society has forced me to be this way, I’m saying that this is my decision that I cuss in front of my kids and try to teach them about the responsibilities and consequences that go along with said words.  And, yes, this is a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do approach, one that is not popular amongst the mother’s of today, but I really don’t care.  Also, I don’t cuss and then say, ‘Mommy shouldn’t say those words, you don’t say those words.’  That is just plain stupid.  I am going to continue to cuss, therefore, I would be making that statement quite often and not meaning a word of it thus teaching my kids that their mother is a bull-shitter and what she says can’t be trusted.  Granted, I may BS my kids here and there but not with the serious stuff such as cussing.  I’m not in the middle of all of Parker’s conversations but I do read his text messages and he knows that I read them.  He has texted choice  words to people and I have talked to him about what that makes him look like.  The rules are a little different for an adult.  They cuss and it just goes right on by, a kid cusses and they are labeled as a bad kid by the friends parent.  Let’s face it, your kid is a direct reflection of you, he cusses to girls (or anyone else for that matter) and you look like this is a behavior that is tolerated in your home.  There are quite a few no-win situations associated with cursing, however, it’s my job to make sure my kids understand the social and personal responsibilities that go along with this responsibility, uh, er, action.

In becoming an adult my saltiness has grown exponentially, much to my mom’s chagrin, but it wasn’t my parents and their choice words that made me this way, it’s all me.   There was a time in my life I audaciously cringed when hearing another person speak the ‘F-word’….so scandalous, that person, say such filth!  Even when it started leaving my mouth it was uttered as a whisper; as though I wanted to be a badass but couldn’t bring myself to embrace the whole badass lifestyle.  Could my wanting to be a badass be like a homosexual coming out of the closet?  You have to start with telling one person, someone you know won’t judge you and support your badass ways, someone that would never turn you away or tell you how your inner self is leading you astray.  Now don’t get me wrong, I will never trivialize someone coming out of the closet, a person laying their whole self on the line to be their true self is my hero, plain and simple.  I merely see the similarities in the two acts both resulting in becoming your true self.  Cursing isn’t the only thing that defines one as being a bad ass; confidence and ownership are the biggest hurdles to overcome.  Yes, I am a confident person….to an extent. when it is socially acceptable and people won’t walk away from me feeling awkward.  Heaven forbid I make anyone feel less than comfortable simply because I have different beliefs and opinions that may not fit into the WASP world.  Yes, I just used that acronym, WASP (White Anglo Saxon Prodestant), and sometimes I feel like I should be dressing like June-freaking-Cleaver in order to make others that much more comfortable in this world.  I don’t want to dress or act like June-freaking-Cleaver, I want be like Pink, Kat von Dee, Dita Von Teese, Liz Phair, who else, um, let’s see….. Ah, yes, Shannon Tweed, for arguments sake let’s throw in a little Drew Barrymore (just something about that girl I really like), who else….. 

As I write this and think about the women I want to be more like I look up to see our religious candles sitting on the breakfast bar.  (Even saying breakfast bar makes me sound so…..white.  Is that the right word?  Maybe the word I am really thinking of is average or ordinary or even middle class…certainly not badass!)  Back to the candles…..  Here I am trying to define my salty world yet I light religious candles while my children eat their breakfast and do their homework.  The June-freaking-Cleaver in me wants to be ashamed that I am discussing my saltiness; however, the badass in me doesn’t really give a shit what anyone else thinks.  As a woman in her mid- to late-thirties, I am becoming more confident in the person that I really am, a salty badass.  This is my path, my decision, and while I might still like to dress like I walked out of The Gap or J Crew, I know what I really am, a salty, badass WASP. 

Love to all who really cares!

J