Before you even think it, I am going to acknowledge the fact this blog has taken a massive step away from being a health blog. I hear you. More specifically, I hear your thoughts. If you’re a loyal follower (of which there are many…) who only wants to read about health related topics, I permit you to unfollow me (yes, you needed my permission). I get that hearing about the trials and tribulations of parenting may not be your schtick (it wasn’t mine prior to having one), so feel free to ignore said posts or leave altogether. I may, someday, return to health blogging.
On to sharing my parenting win: swearing in public.
I’ve now had two very public and very loud swearing outbursts with my beautiful daughter in tow. Yes, I am nailing it as a parent. Absolutely nailing it.
Both of these moments make me laugh. Not in the moment, but immediately after and in random moments when I’m allowed the time to reflect at my parenting mishaps and mistakes. I share this because I want everyone to feel better about themselves as a parent and a person; to know that it’s okay to look really bad in public and still be an awesome parent and person in private (and most times in public). And you’re still not a bad parent even when you let your daughter watch The Good Wife with you while you eat cheese and she eats your phone (you caught me, I’m confessing hoping that someone will also agree and make me feel better about my parenting choices).
The first expletive explosion was on a flight back from Ontario to Calgary. I was solo parenting which is always a dream, especially on a plane (single parents, you are angels of music – I don’t know how do it). Between nursing, my daughter removing the nursing cover and exposing my breasts to our flightmates, trying to eat, her kicking my food and associated food garbage to the ground, getting up to change her diaper 3 times in the incredibly spacious airplane bathroom, I was perhaps a little bit tired by the end of it. Oh, and my water bottle exploded on me three times. It’s one of those bottles where the spout pops open, which is relevant because as you ascend and the air pressure changes, the water really wants to escape. More specifically, it wants to escape out the spout onto your nursing cover and neighbour – a perfect water projectile. How could I do this three times? Because on the ascent (when the air pressure is constantly changing), I would pop open the spout, experience the water shower, swear (under my breath), wipe the water from my daughter’s face, close the spout, forget and do it again. Next Einstein over here.
So I was tired. I was ready to be off the plane. We landed. I rejoiced. I placed my daughter on the floor (calm down, the nursing cover was between her and the airplane carpet) in order to put on the Bjorn. Forgetting where I was – a small metal tube that is not meant for taller than average people – I stood up quickly from placing my daughter on the ground. Way too quickly. You know what happened: my head cracked the luggage compartment. I yelled F*** at the top of my lungs, as you do. Every passenger, also ready to disembark, standing, waiting, watching, heard the delightful sound leave my lips. Then I opened the luggage compartment and the contents of my diaper bag fell on me. I was thrilled.
The most recent public display was at Starbucks and it involved the Bjorn and a wasp. Standing casually, chatting, enjoying the final sun rays of the year (this happens in October in Calgary), my friend tells me there is a wasp on my daughter’s hat. Instead of swatting the wasp away from my body, I swatted it towards me, as you do. It went from her hat to my chest. Yes, right between my daughter’s face and her favourite place on earth, my breasts. I blacked out. And in that moment, while trying to undo the Bjorn (ineffectively), I yelled “Sh**! F***! Sh**!”. I have no doubt the customers outside were delighted and encouraged by my expert parenting maneuvers. After all of this, I did manage to remove the wasp from the vicinity of my child and my important body parts.
I share this because I want to make you laugh. And, as I said above, to make you feel better when you swear in public, or drop you child (I honestly haven’t done this…yet), or accidentally let them eat stones (this has almost happened), or lick all the toys at the library (this has happened). We have winning and losing moments. We often rock it, but we also often knock it (go with it).
Happy parenting and, more importantly, happy swearing when the mood strikes.