Sunday, August 09, 2009

not me tomorrow

I haven't done one of these for awhile and, oh, how I love to dissect my various idiosyncrasies and then deny that I do them! I love to laugh at myself....maybe, even more than I love to laugh at others. ;)
I've never heard the doorbell ring announcing the arrival of one of the children that I care for, launched my old-ish and stiff body that would prefer to stay horizontal into the hallway and clumsily opened the door while attempting to discreetly hide the fact that my post-breastfeeding boobs are without their harness by crossing my arms and hoping that it does not give the parent the fear that I am either some stiff authoritarian who will whip their children into shape OR a crazed, lazy layabout who doesn't care about her appearance enough to pat down the 'Alfalfa'-like hairdo or rub the sleep out of her eyes before they arrive expecting fun and wholesomeness for their children...I am always bright, chipper and well-groomed before the little 'uns get here. ALWAYS. I am not obsessed with my chickens. I do not check on them almost as many times a day as I check my email and I do NOT have an irrational belief that if we get more than three eggs a day it will be a 'good day'. Five eggs does NOT mean that it will be a fabulous day. That would be crazy....
As a fisherman's wife, there is NO way that I get seasick. The iron stomach that I have had as long as I can remember is still with me and I was not shocked recently when I didn't lose my beef dip off the side of the boat when a good friend took me fishing on his charter boat. And because I didn't ralf over the side and chum the waters for the awesome salmon we caught (although I am told that mine, though totally legal, were very small, I was so stoked!), I was not embarassed in the least. (By the way, Greg doesn't need the waters 'chummed' to catch fish....All he needs is a hook! He's a fabulous fisherman who I wholeheartedly recommend going fishing with!!) I never, ever swear in front of my children. Ever. I am a good, wholesome, oatmeal and buttermilk speaking mama. I never feel guilt about this either and then never wonder if I am to have one vice this is one of the better ones to have? And then I never wonder if I am just justifying my potty mouth.....And my children did not enjoy a few blissful years of a non-swearing mother before their prolifically cursing daddy died.

2 comments:

Pamela said...

Can I just tell you that I enjoy reading your blog? Your children are beautiful... You're so honest and raw, my kinda gal!

Joanie in Maine said...

Concerning your children hearing you swear, I have always
cursed and my husband just a little
bit less so. Our two kids, who are now 28 and 31, rarely swore in front of us even though we never
told them they couldn't. I still don't hear them swear though I've seen them curse in blogs, etc.

I've always suspected that by not
making a big deal about their
youthful exploration of swearing it took away the allure of doing "something they weren't supposed to".

The only time I ever heard my son
swear was when he was 16 and learning to drive. He turned into
a one-way parking lot the wrong way
and immediately there was an on-coming car. "Shit", he said, which was absolutely appropriate.
I couldn't have summed up the situation any better.