I am a lot of things — a mom, wife, friend. I’m also emotional, impatient, and empathetic. I like coffee, and I hate yoga. I’m also just a teensy bit sweary. Oh, who am I kidding? I’m a foul-mouthed, badass mom who swears like a motherfucker, and I have no interest in stopping. After all, I’m an adult, and I do what I want.
There are a shit ton of us moms out there who are tired of being told to “talk like a lady” (seriously?) and just want to be who we are. Honestly, I’ve never understood why the hell so many people get their undies in a bunch over swearing. If it’s not mean-spirited or name-calling, who’s getting hurt by a well-placed fuck or dammit all to hell?
But as much fun and cathartic as swearing is, alas, not everyone agrees. There are several unwritten rules to swearing, and parenthood can make it a little…complicated. But we sweary moms are a sisterhood all our own, and we have to look out for each other. So, behold the Sweary Mom’s Guide to Parenting:
You won’t know your kids can spell until it’s too late.
Plenty of parents have been kicked in the ass by a child who learned to spell without their knowledge. Henceforth, you will long for the glorious halcyon days when you could f-u-c-k-i-n-g swear with a g-o-d-d-a-m-n letters and your precious offspring were oblivious to the b-i-t-c-h-i-n-g you were doing. Like little KGB spies, kids are always listening. They hear everything. And they repeat it too. Sweary Moms, saddle up and prepare yourself for an ill-timed F-bomb or Sweet Muppety Christ at the most inopportune times. Just laugh it off. Even the sanctimommies have a hard time not laughing at a 2-year-old who lets out a shit or what the fuck in a crowded grocery store.
Teach your kids the hows and whens of swearing.
Speaking of kids repeating everything, you need to teach your kids how and when to swear. Some parents invoke a “no swearing” ban. Personally, I prefer the “don’t be an asshole” and “don’t get caught rules.” If my kid wants to let out a few dammits when his Lego tower breaks at home, so be it. But my kids know that if I get a call from school because they were swearing, they will be in some serious shit. If they are calling people names of any kind — swear words or not — there will also be hell to pay. And, for the love of all the fucks in the world, if you’re going to swear, make sure it’s well-timed and used in the right context. Nothing is worse than a misplaced fuck, and making poop the punchline to every joke is just not funny.
Be careful not to let an F-bomb slip at parent-teacher conferences.
Unless, of course, you want to be known as “that mom” — which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Don’t let the pearl-clutchers steal your joy.
Unfortunately, not everyone finds tossing around words like fucktastic and muthafucka as fun or cathartic as we do. In fact, there are people out there whose sensitive ears bleed when they hear the word asshat or flying fuck, and their hands instinctively clasp at those holier-than-thou pearls around their neck. Beware and hold firm. The pearl-clutchers will try to steal your joy with their gasps and pained expressions. You can go one of two routes. One, you can keep your swearing to a minimum so they can’t spoil your fun. Or, two, you can kick it up a notch and see if their ears actually do start to bleed.
Swearing makes everything just a little bit better.
Worried that your brain might actually be reverting to that of a 3-year-old because you’ve watched Caillou and Peppa Pig for three days straight, and you can’t get the theme song of Super Why! out of your head? Swearing will remind you that you are a motherfucking adult. Toddler tantrum? Swear your way through it, and remind yourself that you’re a badass who takes care of shit. Having one of those never-ending days (weeks) that’s an epic shitstorm of calamities and your spouse just called to say that he’s going to be late and you just realized that you’re out of wine and chocolate? Cuss it up, girl. It’s all you’ve got.
Swearing is like a hug, pillow-punch, and pep talk all wrapped into one. So when you’re having one of those moments/days/weeks, call up a fellow Sweary Mom and bitch to your heart’s content. Because swearing makes everything better. But you already fucking knew that.