Sugar Mama

Confession time.  I have a potty mouth.  It's not a badge I wear with pride, but a badge I wear none the less.  I guess in my youth I thought I was really cool throwing those curse words around.  It seemed like everyone was doing it, so why not me?  Naughty, naughty.

Then one day, I woke up and I had this baby--the epitome of innocence.  I made a decision to clean up my act.  While not yet a seasoned parent, I'd learned enough to know that children live what they learn.  I wanted to be a shining example.  I tried to eliminate cursing from my vocabulary.

I found, however, that I still needed a word to really drive the point when I was mad. It really didn't  matter what word, just something that I could say with force.   I needed a word that, maybe, if I was midstream in a real curse, I could quickly correct.  I settled on 'sugar'.

Oh Sugar!! Spilled milk--Oh Sugar!  Stub a toe--Oh Sugar!  Sugar, sugar, sugar.  When I was irritated, upset, angry.....I was spinning some potent sugar.

This is where I learned that children can be the best teachers.  I discovered a very important lesson about language.  It's not always what you say, but how you say it.

One day my then 3 year old  was very upset with me.  I'm sure I told him 'no' or some other equally heinous act, like to pick up his toys or, perhaps, share with his brother.  (THE HORROR!!)   He worked himself up into a lather, crossed those little arms over his chest, stomped that fat Fred Flintstone foot and said to me,  in a voice void of any sweetness, "You're a Sugar Mama!"

My 3 year old was essentially cussing me out and I was the one who taught him to do it!!

No Cool Mom points for me.  Guess I really am a Sugar Mama.