Ix-Nay on the Otherfucker-May

[dr_pretentious]

There are words Dan and I have to spell now if we want to talk about them in Gareth's presence, and as the boy recognizes more and more polysyllabic words, we're starting to branch out into pig latin. Some of the words we can't say are words for things he likes, that he'll be disappointed to have to wait for. If we're not sure we're up for giving him a B-A-T-H right away, we have to be careful how we confer. If we don't want him to go chase the C-A-T, or demand to urse-nay, we've got to talk around those, too.

But it's not just a comprehension problem. Gareth has picked up words before that we knew he didn't understand. One of his toys has an electronic voice that names colors, so he started imitating the way it said red! long before he had any idea what red was. Red was the first color he could actually identify, but that was months later.

It's the parrot imitation I worry about when I consider my little swearing problem.

I've lived in New Jersey a long time. Oh, and I had a run-in when I was a kid with a child psychologist who thought I'd be a happier person if I swore when I was angry. It's possible he was right about that, though as an adult I've wondered if he didn't just like hearing little girls talk dirty. No way of knowing, now. In any case, foul language is a hard habit to turn off, and harder for having been acquired early under conditions of adult approval.

I'm used to policing myself when I'm teaching, but most days I spend nine hours at a stretch on baby duty. You try going nine straight hours without uttering a single profanity. It's harder than you'd think.

My sister, who swears less than I do despite being a divorce litigator, discovered when her older daughter was two that little K had not only learned the word motherfucker, but had learned to say it in good Samuel L. Jackson style, muthafucka, and in its correct context in a sentence.

Every time I have a Blagojevich-mouthed moment in Gareth's hearing, I remember the relish with which my niece said that word and the chagrin with which my sister heard it, and I think, Oh, Sarah, this could happen to you.

Comments

[dr-pretentious.livejournal.com]

Oh, and a grosser alternative to "Rats!" is "Booger!" One day when I took my bicycle out to the park, I stopped for water near a picnic area that was full of kids from some local church group. From the way the kids talked to each other, I can only conclude that their adults had ruled that booger was not a bad word, because the kids used it in every single spot where a profanity could possibly have gone, in every single sentence I heard them say, and none of the adults did more about it than roll their eyes.

I guess even when tweens obey the letter of the law, they have a developmental obligation to try to subvert its spirit.

[onyxtwilight.livejournal.com]

Someone should teach them to say it in a British accent, so it sounds like "bugger!". >:-)

And I've always campaigned that, while children need to learn to control their potty mouths, even if the adults around them can't, they should be given a free pass for using a swear word appropriately and non-gratuitously. Like, if a ten year old smashes their thumb with a hammer, and says "SHIT!" really loud, I don't think adults around them should so much as blink, except to ask if they're bleeding. That is a 100% appropriate use of that word.

[violet-moon25.livejournal.com]

I definitely agree that tweens and young teens do have have a developmental need to assert their individuality in the face of authority. I think this is why we were never exactly forbidden to curse in our family (most of my friends were). We were sort of warned that people would think we were rude and had no manners if we cursed and we would probably end up looking stupid if we used words without knowing the meanings. I probably cursed less than my friends at age 11 or 12. But I also looked up all kinds of filthy slang in the slang dictionary that was in the house. I guess that could be considered a triumph of education. At least the dirty jokes were funnier and made more sense in Jr. High.

I also agree with the occasional appropriate usage of swearing with older kids. I don't like to see younger kids swearing and having no idea they they are doing anything inappropriate. I do vividly recall from my days doing social work a 6 year old with a terrible potty mouth. But I mostly felt bad for the kid because of the chaotic environment he came from.