Wednesday, January 25, 2012

that's Mamma Bitch Ass to you

I'm going to start this post out with a disclaimer: I use swear words.

Not all the time. Certainly not in front of the children.

OK OK -- not very often in front of the children.

I don't aim to swear. I'm not proud of my swearing. But honestly, I'm not sure God really cares whether or not I say poop or shit. The Bible only says to not take His name in vain. (And I try really, really hard to not do that one. Ever. And it's not allowed out of my children either!)

But those other words slip out every now and then. Usually when I'm angry. Oh yeah, and I have a 14 year old son. His language is quite colorful when he thinks I'm not listening. And yes, he gets a talking to every time I hear him. He is to always be aware of his "audience". If it's just him and his friends...whatever. But if I can hear him...or if the little ones can hear him, the language is NOT appropriate for his audience.

At any rate, my 7 year old knows some swear words. Where he learned them at doesn't really matter. Now, on with the story...

Oh wait -- I'm going to write this post out just as it happened. I'm not going to use #$%!* or other codes. If you're offended, skip this post please.

Now, on with the story...

Bart has spent his 7 years of life watching TT like a hawk. He loves to copy everything his big brother does. And lately, he's been copying the huge meltdowns.

This behavior isn't typical for Bart. Because let me tell you, Bart is the happiest kid I've ever known! And I'm not exaggerating. He truly is very, very happy almost all the time.

But on Friday the 13th of this month, Bart decided to see what would happen if he tried flipping out like his big brother does. (Was it because of the day? Because of the weather? Because my family was on their way to our house for a visit? Who knows?! But Friday the 13th perfectly sucked for me until everyone showed up that afternoon!)

I believe it started with me needing to bring Bart in from playing outside. Honestly, I don't remember the story completely. (I've spent too much time laughing about how it ended to remember exactly how it began.) I think he was hugging Dolly when she didn't want to be hugged. At any rate, I hollered outside for Bart to come in.

Bart flipped out!! He started running all over the house away from me. And yes, like a moron I chased him. All I wanted to do was separate him from Dolly, remind him of appropriate boundaries, and then send him on his merry way.

As his flip-out got worse, I screamed back at him, "you're grounded".

I think Bart took this as a challenge. Because of course I got completely side tracked by another kid. Before I could realize what was happening, Bart took off out the front door.

After I finished with the child that side tracked me, I looked around for Bart. After I realized that he had gone out the front door, I went out to chase him down. Kicking and screaming I literally drug him back into the house.

Then I put back on my big girl pants and commenced therapeutic parenting. I calmed my breathing. Got down on his level. And tried to talk to him.

He was mad. Oh he was mad. We had made our way into the "big feeling" room so hopefully I could talk to him in private. I don't remember much of what was being said until he looked at me and said, "Bitch".

I smiled. I even laughed a little. Then I replied, "Oh. I'm a bitch?! Wow. It must suck to have a bitch for a mom. I can tell you're really upset. I'm such a bitch. I'm a bitch. Am I a fucking bitch?"

His little eyes got bigger and bigger and bigger as I used his swear word back at him. When I dropped the f-bomb he nearly fainted. Then he got all sad and started crying. "No mommy. You're not a bitch. I'm sorry. I love you." He crawled up like a baby into my lap and gave me a huge hug.

Lest anyone think that I come up with this on my own, this is where I got the idea. It makes sense really. If a kid is trying to "hurt" you with a swear word...and you use it right back at them...that word has no power over you.

I was so proud of myself for staying calm. For meeting my kid right where he was at. I really rocked it.

Four hours later Bart got mad at me again. Only this time he upped the ante. This time I was a bitch...ass.

Oh how I wish I could have had an audio of the moment. You see. Bitch all by itself didn't send me into a tizzy in the morning. He was digging deep in the recesses of his mind for another swear word. I'm sure the first thing that came to mind was shit. But he couldn't figure out how to turn that into an insult. So instead, he screamed, "You're a bitch...ass!" He literally paused after he screamed bitch and tried really hard to think of something perfectly horrible to add along with it.

I nearly died laughing again. And again, I just stayed super calm and told him it must really suck to have a bitch ass for a mom. Again I simply agreed with him. "Yup. I'm a bitch ass. A really big bitch ass. I can tell by the way you're yelling at me that you are really mad. I made you really mad. I'm such a bitch ass. I'm going to have to work on not being such a bitch ass anymore."

Again, he melted almost instantly. You could tell he felt horrible. He crawled up on my lap for another hug. This time I had to remind him that despite my best efforts to handle this in a therapeutic manner, I can promise that his father will NOT act the same way!

Good Lord I hope he remembers that and got all the swearing out of his system!!

If there is a next time though, my response is going to be, "Yeah. Well, it's Mamma Bitch Ass to YOU!"

4 comments:

Teresa said...

This is simply perfect. Love it.

The Author said...

OMG! Im sorry but I laughed throughout your whole entire post! I really needed this laugh :)

Ahh from the mouths of babes!

CherubMamma said...

Please don't apologize for laughing. LOL :) I've been cracking up about this ever since it happened. In fact, it's a running joke with my sister now. Her little cherubs tend to repeat the antics of mine...just about 6 months later. We joke that they share a brain – 1200 miles apart.

I'm even considering making a shirt for myself that says MBA on it. If anyone asks I'll tell them it stands for "Mamma Bear Always". ('round the house Mr. Amazing calls me Bear). But deep down I'll know what MBA really stands for. It's too funny!!!

noisycolorfullively said...

Hilarious!