My beautiful first born turns five today.
And in all that time she has never sworn.
Despite the prolific profanity from her mother, the closest my baby girl has come to swearing is when she misheard her father and yelled 'Sausage' instead of 'Tosser' at a car that cut us off on a country road.
Five profanity free years! Take that #TeamNuture. And take a bow #TeamNature.
She uses many of my other oft uttered words like 'conundrum' and 'goose' and 'darling' and 'discombobulation' and 'riddickerlous' and 'hiwearweus', so it's not that she's not listening.
She can name a dozen different kind of dinosaur and speak some Spanish. But that's down to Playschool and Dora. She can sing most of the Muppet's soundtrack but that's car trips for you. She thinks singing "It's all about the cake, bout the cake, NO SALAD" is the funniest thing ever but that's because of Meghan Trainor and a recent visit from Dillon and Lachie.
Not a one.
Not. One. Swear.Word.
I honestly want you all to stand up and punch the air and yell 'FUCK YEAH'.
Not because I care if she swears. I really don't. She'll sort out appropriate and inappropriate and do her own thing regardless of me, regardless of her father and regardless of what is considered socially acceptable. I know this because we all do.
But we spend a lot of time worrying as parents that our own lack of perfection outweighs anything else that we do. We think that our stuff ups are far more visible to our children than all the things we get right. We worry that our quirks are more powerful than our personalities.
We're fecking idiots.
And arrogant with it.
Our children do not look to us to be perfect if we give them the same luxury of imperfection. They do not look to us to be right if we are gracious enough to admit wrongs. They don't mind our cases of overwhelm if we allow them to yell too when they don't have the words to express themselves quietly.
They basically don't give a shit what we do as long as we are not holding them to higher standards then we adhere to ourselves.
My five year old is not stupid. She knows the difference between adult words and kids words. She knows that saying something is 'boring' drives me to distraction. She knows that words like 'hate' are not tolerated and that being unkind is unacceptable. She knows that 'patience' means waiting quietly and yet she doesn't do it because she doesn't understand why waiting quietly is any way a virtue.
I don't either. We have that in common.
But my profanities are not the words that matter to her. At all. And that's a powerful message for a mama.
She knows that I don't always get it right. If I don't own up, she'll call me on it. She is fierce in her loves and her passions. She is loyal to her friends. She feels all the feels.
All. Of. The. Feels.
She is kind. She adores her sister and is adored equally in return. She and her father can say 'bottom' out loud for days on end and never fail to find it hilarious. She is grumpy. She is cheerful. She is a morning person.
Like a real live bonafide morning person.
She loves reading. And songs. And music. She is tired. She is brave. She is funny. She is clever. She is interesting. She is interested.
She is human.
And she allows me to be human too.
Happy 5th birthday to my peaceful, my powerful, my bright and my beautiful Tullinator.
Thank you for loving me. Just the way I am.
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