My Son's First Word Was Cock

(or manners)

I swear it wasn't my fault. He was trying to say truck.

I never said that word in front of him, and back then I hardly ever swore out loud at all. I was teaching school and I found that if I didn't curb the sailor mouth I'd grown up with I did it inadvertently at work, or in front of my wonderful church lady grandmother, or some other place that wasn't appropriate.

I was reading this (it cracked me up) and it got me to thinking about my own potty mouth. Son is about to turn 15. He swears. And as a result, so does Daughter. I gave up trying to stop them and am trying to teach them when NOT to swear.

I also gave up not swearing in front of them.

This brings me back to my mother who told me way back when that when she couldn't stop my brother and I from doing things like burping astoundingly at the dinner table, that she gave up and learned how to burp loudly too, still attempting to instill manners in us nonetheless.

It worked. My brother and I can both pass for civilized beings when we want to and we know which fork to use with what course at the table. A lost art.

Interestingly (but not surprisingly) my children's manners and behavior are two of the many things that I worried about more before I got divorced because Ex didn't want bad manners in his house...the misbehavior at the dinner table, in particular. Oh, he would spit the food out I cooked for him in front of the children, pass gas as loudly as he could at the table, then get up and leave before everyone was finished eating (one thing I find extremely rude, not to mention a bad example), but lord help us if one of us did the same thing. I lost count of how many times dinner devolved into a shouting match between he and wonderful and challenging ADHD Son, Daughter watching with big eyes from her seat at the table, and me trying to make peace, my anxiety levels going through the roof as I was terrified that screaming or shoving would start...watching helplessly as Ex slowly but surely rubbed what little self esteem Son had away with his emotional abuse.

Oddly enough (sarcasm, in case you didn't catch it) I have an aversion to making them sit at the dinner table now, though we always sit down to eat together unless other activities prevent it.

I am happy to say that I hear from other adults that my children are kind, polite, and well mannered at other people's houses.

I'll take it.

This makes me very happy because despite what Ex imposed on them (still does at his house, I'm sure) and that I imposed on them in his name, they have the kindness and manners my southern grandmother would have been proud of.

When they're not at home with me. *grin*