F Bomb THAT

I am dropping the F Bomb like crazy and I’m a better mum for it.

Let me explain.

I banged my head on the car boot door recently and my kids were around, so I said Mother flipper! But it didn’t help. So I yelled MOTHER FUCKER really loudly and it helped.

It felt so good that when my shopping bag split and all the cherry tomatoes rolled into the gutter and my 18 month old ran out onto the road while I was trying to pick them up, I screamed SHIT FUCK ARSEHOLE DICK!

It really made me feel better.

This may be wrong, and I am sure there will be potty-mouth-police judgment, but I have started swearing around my kids. And I can’t stop.

Gone are the days of Sugar! Whoopsie! And Flippetty Jibbit!

The S bomb, F bomb and even the occasional whispered C bomb are back and I’ve never felt calmer or more in control. All these years of holding the words in and letting the tension build up until I scream STUFF IT! like a banshee and feel totally hysterical are gone.

I don’t actually swear at my kids, just around them and it releases the steam in my head and I think I am a better mother for it.

I'm not saying you should get on board, but it feels good. Just be aware that it's a slippery slope. BUGGER! is a gateway word and soon you'll be headed to FUCK-BALLS!

The other day I had a particularly hard day with the kids. You know the ones? The baby tipped a whole bag of rice bubbles on his head. My daughter had meltdown after meltdown about Barbie’s missing shoe, a broken muesli bar and all those other crippling problems that toddlers endure. It was a very long day, where time seems to limp along and wine o clock seems so far away.

I was trying to get them in the bath while my son was biting my arm and my daughter was doing the leg kicking and screaming on the floor thing. A sensible person would have left the room and taken a deep breath. But I put my hands over my ears, closed my eyes and sang, very softly, FUCK over and over again to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

When I had finished, both kids were looking at me in a ‘beware of the crazy lady’ kind of way and it was so unexpected that they stopped the horrible behaviour. I also felt better, because I didn’t yell at anyone.

Then the bath went well. We had fun.

Yes, I know that kids copy our behaviour, but kids learn to swear anyway. And I am proud of not yelling as much or losing my shit at them.

My potty mouth has made me a better parent. Along with wine and the occasional run around the block.

That’s my story and I’m fucking well sticking to it.