Deez Nuts: A Tale of an Enlightened Second Grader's Expanded Vocabulary

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

With a few weeks left in the school year, I was doing my best to balance all that Maycember brings topped by the addition of a newborn to the mix. I felt like things were going pretty well, though, admittedly I was probably judging my success through a dense, sleep deprived fog. So, one afternoon when my perky as pie eight year old bounced off the school bus and into my bedroom as I nursed the baby and told me she had something to share with me since 'my sisters aren't around', I imagined she had planned a fun surprise for them for their daily after school adventures. I greeted her warmly and with a kiss and anxiously waited for her to share her surprise. She looked right into my eyes, pigtails bouncing, and casually said, "BITCH". Just like that. Without a pause or inflection.  That grown up word spilled right from my daughter's lips.
THIS face. 
Does it not scream out innocence?
Backstory...
A couple of nights before, all of the girls had gone to dinner with their Daddy so that I could get a little rest. In the middle of their date, I received a text from my hubby informing me that our oldest child was spelling the F word in the car and that middle daughter was repeating it. Clearly he was shocked and upset. Till this moment, the baddest bad word we'd heard any of our children say was stupid. In fact, in our home, we still say fanny or bottom or booty instead of butt and spell the word fat. We continue to avoid cartoons like Rugrats just because of the sassy backtalk that could be imitated. And, yet, my husband had just heard our little darling saying spelling, thank GOD, the granddaddy of all naughty words. 
So, when we got the other girls down that night, we had a talk with her about where she'd heard the word (a fellow second grade classmate with a big brother) and when she'd heard it. We let her know it was the worst of the worst and she should not say it again. She was truly sorry and promised to come to us the next time she heard a word that she was unsure about. 
And THAT is how the encounter with my darling came to be that afternoon. She was simply sharing with me a new word she'd heard to find out whether or not it was 'bad'. Once I lifted my mouth back up off my chin, I got to the bottom of its origin - darn you older brothers!!! - and told her that indeed she should not say that word. I also used this time to see if she had any other words floating around in that inquisitive head of hers. 'Well, we were doing a word search and some kids were laughing at A-S-S and H-E-L-L,'. Great. So she'd pretty much been exposed to every four letter word that we've tried so gosh darn hard to keep out of her ears {as well as 'deez nuts' which I needed hubby to define for me}. I hated the fact that true curse words would no longer just go over her head if she occasionally heard one on a movie or something. 
Once we got into summer and she was no longer exposed to those big brother influenced hooligans, I thought things would be easy breezy in the language department. I mean, honestly? I deserve some kind of mom trophy for keeping obscenities tightly under my breath during moments of ninety degree heat - car seat installing - kids whining - baby crying - stress. I'm talking a Gold. Freaking. Medal. But alas, her will for being a good girl and a great example to her little sisters is just no match for her desire to totally drive her daddy bat-crap crazy with the use of the 'P' word. {Penis. Obviously.} Now, I see it as no different than saying arm or leg, but he just can't bear to hear that word come out of his girls' mouths. So, when a simple car trip lead to shrieking laughter and the constant chant of 'Pe-nis! Pe-nis! Pe-nis!' I had to intervene on my blushing hubby's behalf.
Ten reasons she should not teach her sisters 'penus'. 
My personal favorites:
# 8 Murphy has a BIG mouth. # 6 Murphy always lies.
# 7 Wright says inappropriate things like "poop". (Loved her use of the quotes on that one.)
It's not so much that we think "bad" words are the end all be all, it's more about maintaining our kids' (it's SO WEIRD to me that I can no long use the pronoun girls when referring to all of my children! but, I digress) innocence for as long as we can. Oh, I get it. The real world won't give a rat's behind about their innocence, but in our home, fairies are real and grown ups have the power to turn our ears off at whim. I also realize that she is our first child, our oldest, and that numbers three and four will probably start kindergarten having already viewed a PG-13 movie or two. Heck, I probably will lose my battle and let a bad word make it farther than under my breath. Her being the oldest doesn't make it any easier though. It may even make it harder because, despite being the oldest, she is still our first baby. I guess we all just want to keep our babies babies for as long as we can, and every little thing that leads them closer to growing up is just no fun for us parents. Damnit. 

And Then There Were Six

Friday, July 8, 2016

Dusting off the MacBook and drafting a blog for the first time since the cold days of January. I even let my never-skipped quarterly Sweetest Things post slip by without nary a word. I don't have a great reason except that between my body growing increasingly foreign to me as I got closer to the birth of our son, and life just being a fluster of kids' activities and such, and my mood being less than cheerful, the blog just took a back seat. Like, in the far back.
Had I taken the time to blog over these last few months, posts such as: 
Mommy Has a Coke[acola} Problem
No, My Husband Was Not Trying for a Boy
My Birth Control Practices are Not Your Concern
My Son is Only Three Weeks Old, and I Already Hate His Wife 
Deez Nuts: A Lesson in an Enlightened Second Grade Girl's Vocabulary
would have been written for your reading pleasure. Alas, those ships have sailed as my Coke habit has drastically decreased (and somewhat been substituted with Dr. Pepper), and the other topics have become less emotion fueled. {Though, I may still opine on expanded vocabulary of our eight year old thanks to some all-too-wise little boys.} Yet, here I am: clickity clacking on the keys and getting back into the groove.
I'm not quite sure where this typing will lead. I know that my heart is heavy, so heavy, with all the senseless tragedy that is going on in our country. My mind is flooded with grief for lives lost and violence on every side. Yet, on a personal level, I am happier than I could have imagined I'd be since the addition of a sweet boy to our bunch. It doesn't hurt that said son is the sweetest, dimple-faced little man that ever there was who just happened to sleep a solid eleven hours last night. 
Half way through 2016, and life has been so full.
 
Bae and I at the Sugar Bowl in New Orleans over New Years.
A great getaway for us two, but a harsh loss for the Pokes.
A cold night cheering our hometown team to NFC victory.
Superbowl bound.
Go, Cam, go.
Roar. 
The Superbowl loss was heart wrenching.
Throughout the ups and downs of this season, we could always count on our littlest lady to bring a smile back to our faces.
Her costume changes are frequent
and unexpected
and rarely seasonally appropriate.
She's imaginative and creative
and sometimes even canine.
She likes to be 'the baby'
yet looks older by the day.
She took up fishing
and scootering
and soccer.
She is a social butterfly with a best friend list a mile long.
She truly makes us happy when skies are gray.
Fortunately, though, we experienced many more sunny than dark days.
We celebrated Daddy turning 37.
and Carter turning 8.
I got bigger and bigger and bigger
as my Baby Daddy got focused and determined and shrank before our eyes.
{Couldn't be more proud of my stud.}
A warm Saturday morning in February brought a gathering of the most important women in my life.
Surrounded by love as this amazing group showered baby boy and me.
Hostesses and Life Groupers.
Roommates for years. Love these girls so much. See them far too little.
Girls from grad school.
Love our sustained connection.
Denise Penino. 
There aren't enough words to describe what she means to me.
Dawn. My second spouse.
This girl keeps me going on the daily.
And, my Mama. Besties since birth. 
{My birth, not hers.}
Then there's my other best girl. The one who describes our relationship as that we have the same heart.
Miss Murphy is looking way too old these days.
She began joining Carter for afternoons spent in the creek
and got muddier than I ever imagined she would.
She mastered the two wheeler
and her reading skills took off.
She often gathered her 'friends' for story time.
But her first love continues to be a Saturday evening spent with Mom at Nordstrom.
She's a perfect mix of sassy 
and silly.
She's selective of her friends,
and her happy is THE happiest.
She kissed preschool goodbye
as she graduated from TK.
We get each other. Really get each other. And life without her would be no life at all.
Then, on April 11, our family dynamic was forever changed.
I met my son.
Hatch Hughes Lewellen.
6 pounds 11 ounces of pure joy.
The baby meeting the baby.
I never thought she'd be a big sister and have loved watching her rock her new role.
Doting: day one.
Meeting Aunt Lala. She loves my babies as I love hers.
[We had no idea that she was 24 hours from a second cancer diagnosis.]
Tiny toes headed home.
The months since Hatch's arrival have been a mix of craziness and exhaustion and indescribable bliss. Watching all of our girls fall in love with this little man has brought his daddy and me more joy than I can describe. 
Fresh and new on Carter's birthday.
She loves him SO. BIG.
A movie mate for Murphy
and a future bestie for the silly one.
Our little gowned man
quickly grew
and expanded his wardrobe selections.
His cheeks filled out
and baby pudge began to appear.
Daddy is his consistent resting place
and smiles most often grace his face.
He looks great in bright orange.
{As if it was an option. Go Pokes.}
And he has completed our family.
Really. We are complete. Done. Four is plenty. 
For a blog that I thought would lead nowhere, I sure covered a lot of life; highs and lows, happy and sad. In a world so fraught with trouble, sorrow, heartache, where there seems to be more questions than answers, these five are my safe place. They are my harbor. And, even when they are at their craziest and having me question my own sanity, they are my peace.
CopyRight © | Theme Designed By Hello Manhattan