Warning: Offensive Language Ahead

Everyone remembers the first time they heard their parents cuss. And I don't mean "damn" or "hell," I mean f-bomb level stuff. For Scooter, I'm pretty sure she heard it within the first fifteen minutes of her life. See around this household, four (and some three, five, seven, and eight) letter words are used like MSG at a Chinese Buffet... they're in every-f*cking-thing. Sure, the hubs and I said we would cut it out when Scooter was born, but cut to 14 months later and I'm pretty sure my kid just said "ass" the other day at lunch.

Cussing is a hard, and I mean H.A.R.D., habit to break. I remember making a conscious decision in seventh grade to start spicing up my language, and I haven't looked back since. Example: I was in a meeting at work with the President and Vice President of Corporate World* along with pretty much the head of every division. When the President asked if my department could pull something off, my reply was "Does a bear shit in the woods?" Seriously, those words came out of my mouth, in a meeting, with the whole company. Thankfully, I was pretty chummy chummy with everyone and I already had a redneckish reputation around the office, but still, that would generally be considered inappropriate for most business meetings. Well, maybe not if you worked for someone like Larry the Cable Guy, but I do not, and my bosses don't wear cut off flannel shirts and dip Skoal Mint.

So, back to Scooter. I've tried really hard to cut it off, but so far I've only been able to eliminate the really bad words. I mean, when I get head butted in the nose by a tired toddler, a "Goddammit" is gonna fly. And it's not like I'm using it in my everyday conversations with her. I don't get her dressed and say "You are so f*cking cute!" Usually it's something like "Please don't eat those wipes, rip off your diaper, pee on the floor, and head butt me in the nose." Besides, if she picks something up, I have one of two options: a. Tell everyone she's trying to say something else, like "sit" or "duck." b. Blame the hubs.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Dress your kid like a ho... spin them round doe si doe!

A few weeks back, this bathing suit was all over the news. Parents all over grabbed their pitchforks and torches (or iPhones held up high with their screens on) and demanded Abercrombie & Fitch stop selling the item. They claimed child endangerment, child pornography, and everything in between. I know, I know, normally my posts have a humorous slant to them. But nothing makes me blow my top more than things like this. So if you're expecting the normal post, stop reading now.

First, Abercrombie & Fitch is a company operating in a capitalist economy (or so-so, but that's for another post and blog). The head baddie at A&F didn't just wake up one day and say, "Hey, you know what we should sell to corrupt our nation's youth? Push up bikinis for pre-teens. To the Bat Cave!" No, companies like A&F invest in things like market research before investing millions in a new product. The real shame here is that their research uncovered a market for an item like this. So on to point two...

Second, how about a little parenting here people? And no, I don't mean from your kids' teachers, coaches, or the cast of Glee. I mean from you, their parent. Instill in them values like charity, modesty, and kindness. Foster an open line of communication between you and your children. Lead by example. And for the love of all things holy, don't strive to be your kids' friend. Strive to be their parent. Do you think Patton was friends with his troops? No, he was their leader because that's what the circumstances called for, and they admired and respected him. Be your child's Patton.

Third, accept the fact that you can't shelter your children from everything. They will be exposed to things like peer pressure, body image issues, and that darn social ladder. But that's where a strong foundation of values and morals comes into play. So Betty Sue got the latest and greatest push up bra bikini and the boys can't wait to see her in it at the swim club. But guess what, your child Sally isn't in the least bit jealous, why? Because she values modesty and doesn't see her mom prancing around in a g-string at the beach.

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter whether you teach your kids values from a spiritual, cultural, or basic human perspective, all that matters is that you do it, and live every day of your life being a walking, talking, breathing example. And guess what, things like this teensy weensy bikini won't even be a blip on the radar.

Wait, I have a toddler???

Here's the thing about having children: they grow up, but you don't really notice it until it Chuck Norris roundhouse kicks you in the face. This happened to me this week, when I finally realized I have a toddler. I mean, there should really be some kind of warning sign that grows out of their heads on their first birthday that says "Warning: Wild Animals Do Bite." So, I've come up with some warning signs that your sweet baby has turned into a toddler. You might have a toddler if...

1. Going to the bathroom has become a spectator sport. You'd think with all eyes on you while you do your business that they would potty train themselves. I mean, this is the time when they are learning the most right?

2. Your life has turned into the Twilight series, but not in the romantic taboo vampire love sense. So far I've been bit in the face, boob, side, arm, knee, and (because Scooter has a foot fetish) countless times on the toes. I've yet to turn into a nocturnal blood sucker, so it's pretty safe to say Scooter is not a vampire, though she may be a cannibal.

3. You can recite Good Night Moon, Where the Wild Things Are, and Green Eggs and Ham by heart. The hubs told me last night I was saying "I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them Sam-I-am" in my sleep.

4. Buying shoes is more complicated than Rupaul's makeup routine. Why can't shoes be sized by the length of the foot? 4.5" would equal 4.5 size shoe. No, I have to measure the foot, multiply by 5, divide by 7, carry the one, add Scooter's birth year... wait what? Ellen is on?

5. There's a world beyond the front door. Scooter loves being outside... I mean L.O.V.E.S. it in the way stoners love Cheetos. Which is pretty great, except for when she sits at the front door pointing saying "THAT!" eight million times while I try to work. I'm seriously considering buying her one of those real grass potty patches for dogs.

6. You have master culinary skills in PB&J and grilled cheese. You also discover toddlers have no palette for marinated filet mignon with a side of grilled season potatoes and spring veggies.

7. You find yourself singing "Lalala, lalala, Elmo's World" in the toilet seat aisle of Home Depot. You also walk through the window aisle expecting to see Mr. Noodle in one of the displays.

8. All surfaces under three feet are a barren wastelands. But don't worry, whatever clutter that was on these surfaces will now be on the floor of your family room in the form of Toys R Us toy diarrhea.

9. You have about a 1.5 hour window to run errands in a day. Between naps and feeding times, there's that precious 1.5 hour window when you can actually leave the house. However, this is only if you've mastered the ninja skills required to strap a kid into a convertible carseat and pre-pack the diaper bag. Word of advice, do not rush getting out the door. It will only result in a deuce being flung across the room during the quick diaper change that you thought was only a wet diaper.

10. You actually start getting semi-coherent answers from your toddler. This is probably one of the greatest parts of having a toddler. Granted, Scooter can only say "yes" (which is far and above better than "no") and I'm pretty sure I could ask her "Do you want mama to sacrificially kill Dora and Boots?" and I would still get a yes. But still, it's a far improvement over desperately flinging every toy and sippy cup known to man at her to stop her crying.