i remember saying my first curse word. i was in the 5th grade. i was playing with my best friend in the creek beside her grandmother's house when i forced that four letter word from my lips. truth be told, she made me say it. we still laugh about it, because the only reason i said it--aside from always having VERY easily given in to peer pressure--was because she had called me a "goody two-shoes".
really? what does that even mean? the phrase doesn't even make sense. but to a 10 year old wanting to seem cool, being a goody two-shoes is most definitely NOT the way to go about it. so i said it. i think it was damn. maybe hell. but whatever it was, a funny thing happened; after i said it, i wanted to say it again. it was like being just a little bit bad felt just a little good. i mean, it's not like it all went downhill from there. cussing wasn't my gateway sin into hard drugs or robbery or anything major. but let's face it; everyone has a little mean streak. a little bit of bad.
i remember ella's first curse word. i think she was 4. we were frantically searching for the car in walmart's parking lot, a pastime in which i regret to say i've spent way too much time participating. finally, exasperated, ella sighs, "well, where the hell is it?"
i was mortified. my sweet ella, as fed up as i was with pacing down each aisle of cars looking for our own, had verbalized what i was thinking. i briefly scolded her, but the shame on her little face broke my heart because i knew that she had quite possibly heard the word from me, and that she didn't realize it was wrong.
that was just her first time. the second was when she couldn't pass a level on one of her nintendo ds games. we were waiting in line for an oil change and the girls were getting antsy. she had been grunting and mumbling under her breath, so i knew she was becoming aggravated with whatever it was she was doing in the backseat. all of a sudden, i hear "what the hell?" and almost immediately following came sobs of guilt. oh geez. what is it with that word? what is it with saying something wrong so that we can feel just a little better? even if we end up feeling even worse afterwards?
now, madelyn is different. she's always been about as straight-laced as they come. a couple of times, she's gotten tongue-tied and accidentally let one word slip, but meant another. and even that unintentional slip of the tongue has made her so embarrassed and ashamed that she nearly bursts into tears. but for the most part, she knows right from wrong and does her best to never stray from these truths. i see so much of myself in that child. the people pleasing, rule abiding, trouble avoiding 10 year old that i once was. don't get me wrong, she has her vices. she loves to get mad and scream at the top of her lungs when she doesn't get her way, or lose her temper and shove her sister when she gets on her nerves, just because it feel good to get out the frustration. for a brief moment, there's a sweet release in just being mean.
but i see something in both of my girls that makes me so proud. despite our penchant for huffing and puffing and the occasional ugly word, my children possess a genuine sense of empathy and compassion. they have a conscience. they have such a love of others and a true understanding of they should and should no do. they are good, good kids. the other day, we were in a shopping plaza and saw an old man sitting in the doorway of an unoccupied space. he may or may not have been homeless, but he did appear to be lonely, perhaps down on his luck, and both girls sensed this. ella grabbed my hand as we walked. "what if he doesn't have anything?" and then madelyn, upon returning to the car, dropped her head and prayed. she didn't have to tell me she was praying for the old man, though she did. i just knew.
i worry about raising my girls. every day, i'm scared to death of what this cruel world is going to do to them. how cold and jaded it may turn them. and raising them alone only exacerbates these fears. i thank god every waking hour that i have someone who shares my morals and core family values and helps me instill these in my children, but wow...parenting is not easy. all i can do is pray that i'm doing a good job. i'd even settle for decent job. but every once in a while, god gives me a little sign that maybe, just maybe, i am. every time my child prays without being told before a meal or sheds a tear for a man asking for change, i get a little confirmation. maybe i need to stop beating myself up and accept that i'm not doing as bad a job as i sometimes feel that i am...
...even when my 6 year old swears at her video games. :)
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