Three Is The Magic Number

Ugh! I am so sick of hearing people lecture me about having another baby. My family, my friends, even random people in the grocery store are insisting that torture myself- yet one more time- with the nightmare that is procreating. I don't know where it is written that you must have more than one child, but I do know that in china it's against the law and if it comes down to it-sianara suckers!

For the record, there could be nothing I deem more awful than getting knocked up again at this point in my life. And by "this point in my life" I mean, the point where I'm thin, happy and no longer a slave to a screaming, suicidal money pit (aka my kid). Not that I would trade him for anything. He really is terrific for a three year old and I must say that his love of swearing and fighting warms the center in my chest where- I'm guessing- my heart should be.

But honestly, it's not just my freedom and waistline that have me locking that second baby drawer tightly. I turns out that I am one of the few sane people who think that pregnancy is more awful than AIDS. Okay, maybe that analogy was in bad taste, but I promise you, it's at least as bad as Leprosy. Think about it- swelling, puking, weight gain, urinary incontinence, uncontrollable flatulence, shortness of breath, skin blemishes, constipation and then of course, the grand finally of distroying your vagina in front of a room full of people. (There's more crappy things, but I started having my equivalent to a Nam flash back and had to wrap it up.) To me those are all symptoms that should end in death, not the spawning of a "bundle of joy". So tell me, who in their right mind would willingly sign up for that? And do it twice? For this gal, there's just no fucking way.

I realize how selfish this all sounds, and sometimes I worry that my son may be missing out by not having a sibling. Especially when I catch him speaking to himself, while playing solo. But then I stop and think about how he will never have to share his toys, his parents love or a sibling ass whooping. He'll also reap the financial benefits, which may not seem like a big deal now, but it will when he wants us to buy him a car for his 16th birthday or if- fingers crossed- he goes to college and needs us to help him pay for it.

So, those are my non-selfish reasons. Do they top the chart of why this family of three will never expand from a fork to a tree?(nice play on words, right?) Of course not! Those are just the reasons I give to my in-laws when they start bugging me about giving my monster a baby brother. For me it's the selfish reasons that have me running for the morning after pill anytime my husband so much as rolls to close to me at night when we're in bed.

The bottom line is, it took having a kid to realize I really don't like them. And how much does it suck that most of us that feel this way have to bullshit people into believing that we do like them? All because we're told "good moms" love kids. When the truth is that most moms only love THEIR kid. Do you honestly believe that after you leave one of those obnoxious kid parties that the booger monsters mother starts developing postpartum because all the little nightmares went home?.. Nope! But I would bet you money that she sat down with her husband, or boyfriend, or girlfriend and talked about what a shit head your kid is and how she would jump off a 5 story building before signing up to parent him/her. For some of you that may be hard to hear but trust me at one time or another your kid was that shit head. Don't take it personally, my kid was one last weekend and it pretty much put the cherry on the top of my "no more babies" cake.

In closing I would like to leave you with some wisdom...We are genetically programed to love our young and as my mother would say to my sisters and me, "I have to love you, I don't have to like you." So at least for right now I love my kid and like him too (most of the time). I would hate to chance it and have another one that may or may not turn out to be a chronic shit head. If you want to risk it go right ahead, but me- I'm praying for early menopause.

I'm A Bad Motha--Shut Yo Mouth!

How much do I love bad words? Let me count the ways....Just give me a minute to make sure there are no kids around or I'll be in big trouble.

I love bad words and honestly, who doesn't . They give you a way to express anger without violence. They show enthusiasm, joy, and are guaranteed to create a laugh if used in the right context.I think if used correctly, curse words can enhance any sentence. So why is it that I now have to pack my potty mouth away? Well, it seems that along with stealing my youth, looks and sanity, motherhood, in it's last attempt to crush my soul, needs me to alter my vocabulary too. To some extent I understand the need to watch what I say. I have a very impressionable two year old, who wants nothing more than to be just like me. When I laugh, he laughs. When I dance, he dances with me. He has even started carrying a purse to the store when we go out.( Though, I think that has more to do with his love of the color pink and show tunes) So I get that it is just a matter of time before he starts repeating some of the obscene nuggets I drop when I speak. The problem is I don't know how to quit. There is no bad word gum to chew, I've never heard of foul mouth rehab, and I doubt there is a cursing anonymous out there.

Since none of these things exist, my husband, Captain curb your language, has made it his job to help whip me into shape. He's very serious about his new role and I have to tell you, out of all the things about him that drive me crazy, him correcting my language is the worst. He cuts me no slack. The second an obscenity flies from my lips he's there standing on his soap box, cape blowing behind him, laying down the law. He's like some kind of Goddamn potty mouth crusader. I try to argue but he always interrupts me with something about our kid repeating the things we say at his religious nursery school. Then, in what I can only assume is an attempt to push me over the edge, he tries to give me a new word to use instead of the dirty one. Oh, and what gems they are. Instead of bitch use witch. Instead of fuck use frick. Instead of asshole use butt head. And so on...Now if you think people who say obscenities sound like idiots wait until you hear a sentence with one of my dip shit husbands substitutions. "Go frick yourself, Butt head." Really!?! I don't know about you, but that hardly holds the verbal face punch I was craving.

In an effort to compromise with my husband, I offered to only use the words that my son may hear on cable television. But apparently Captain CYL is running a household dictatorship. He quickly refused my offer and threatened to install a V-chip without giving me the password. In response to his unfairness, I stomped my foot like a child and insisted that he spell out where the line starts. If I can't use cable friendly words, then does that mean shut-up, moron and hell are contraband too? Do I have to stop saying Jesus Christ and Goddamn it? We're Jewish for Christ sake...It seems that Jew or not, taking the Lords name in vain is on his list of no-no's. While words like shut-up, moron, and hell are OK, just as long as they are not directed at the kid.

As the days go on this entire debacle gets more and more out of hand and my list of usable, fun and colorful words gets shorter. Just this week I got in trouble for using the word retarded in front of my kiddo. I wasn't saying he was retarded, I was simply describing the the nature of his new transformer toy. It was imposable to transform. I kept looking at the picture, while trying to bend and contort it, but it wouldn't change. It was retarded. (In retrospect I should have probably said I was retarded. After all, the age recommendation on the toy was four and up, yet at 26, I still couldn't get that bastard to cooperate.) My husband agreed that the toy was a piece of junk, but encouraged me to stop saying the r-word. Even more than the f-word the r-word is my favorite go-to when I'm frustrated. Now what was I going to f-ing do?

Angered by the fact my vocabulary was being raped harder than a drunk sorority girl at a frat mixer, I tried to think of a better way to clean up my language and still use the words I love so much. Sadly, I've only been able to come up with a new argument. Growing up my parents used bad words all the time. They just made it very clear that there are certain things adults can say and do that are off limits to kids. That's the angle I decided to use the next time my husband, AKA The Captain, starts in on me. Instead of cutting out all the things that make my life worth living; like bad words, cigarettes and cheap wine, I'll spend more time on teaching my kid boundaries. Just because my two year old can't be trusted with a pair of scissors doesn't mean I can't use them to clip coupons. I just have to be careful not to leave them where he can reach. My kid would kill himself if he was given a knife, but I still use one to cut my food when we are sitting at the dinner table. The point is, whether it's naughty words or sharp objects, I need to be straight with my kid and let him know that until he's old enough, somethings are not for him to use. After all,one day it might not be my foul mouth he's hearing, but someone else's; like his grandpa's for example. He needs to know what the boundaries are. And I think teaching him that lesson is better than me changing my vocabulary to shear ridiculousness. Honestly, that would just be retarded.

I realize there is a better chance that hell will freeze over than my husband buying into that speech, but I'll try it anyway and hope for the best. In the mean time I'll try to make peace with the fact that my potty mouth days are numbered...Oh well, at least my kid can't read yet, so I'm free to be me here.

Enjoy these fun clips. I feel they really celebrate the colorful nature of the English language. While you watch, think about how sorry they would be if they used The Captains substitutions. It would be a fricking shame, wouldn't it?

It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia is a gold mine of bad language. It's genius!




Yes, even Spongebob and Patrick could use a little soap in their mouths sometimes..