That reminds me. I have joked with my son about some pretty sick shit, and discussed some very adult themes, but I have never allowed him to swear in front of me. I just felt like it was disrespectful and too non-traditional. I'm not as uptight as I used to be, but I still try to hang onto SOME semblance of a normal family life here and there. But really. We all know we're not normal so who do I think I'm fooling?
Husband doesn't care what words Gage uses as long as he's respectful to him personally. I don't know what bio-dad allows, but I'd bet there are no rules about language with him either. I thought about this over the summer and have discovered that I actually don't care if Gage swears in front of me or not. I'm not sure why I ever acted like I did care, and it bothers me that I went along with a tradition without questioning it. Why is it important to me what words he uses, when every other word out of MY mouth is foul? I'm certainly not embarrassed about using colorful language, why do I give a shit if my teenage son does? He knows to thank Grandma for the "delicious pie" and not the "best goddamn fucking pie" he's ever had. So what's the big deal? I'm over it. And plus, he's turning 15, so I have bigger fish to fry these days.
Gage will be home in a week, so I went into nesting mode and cleaned his room, made his bed like it was a hotel, and prepared his study area for virtual school. I'm super excited!! But also really nervous about being his "learning coach" while simultaneously running Husband's business. He is already getting more work than he has time to do, and it's becoming a tad overwhelming since I've never run a business before. And of course, this little toddler thing on my hip that runs every hour of my life. I'm fairly sure it'll all be fine, it's just new so it's scary sometimes.
Gage asked me to make him a blanket while he was gone, and when I went to buy the materials for it, the fabric store was having a big fleece sale so I got stuff to make Bug a blanket too. I think I'll just use it as the comforter for her "big girl bed", which is a transition I think we'll soon make.
|The beginnings of Gage's blanket|
|I tried to find a cutesy-er owl print, but whatever. It's cool.|
As I was thinking about the plan for my evening tonight, I realized it's Tuesday. That means So You Think You Can Dance and Drunk History are on!!! And then I thought, "I sure am glad I had sex LAST night, so that I can watch my shows tonight!" How sad is that?? I must be 80 years old, for fucks sake, who thinks like that?! It got worse a few minutes later when I looked down and saw this:
Yes, I used to be cool, but now I caught myself in a fucking University of Florida T-shirt (Peter on Family Guy mistook UF for a down syndrome camp) and my scrub shoes, the shoes that got soaked in somebody's shoulder juices from a total shoulder replacement and I had to bleach out. That's what I discovered I'm wearing. I used the word "discovered" because stay at home Mommy-hood is a messy business, and even if I start out with a legitimate outfit in the morning, by the end of the day I'm wearing bits and pieces of the first, second and third things I grabbed after the spaghetti incident, the poop smudge, the sweaty trip to the store and the booger smear she snuck in during cuddle time. UGHHHHH...
Wait. Did somebody say, "What's Drunk History?" It's the best show ever. I want to make my own but we don't have enough friends to pull off the acting parts.
Wow. I re-read all that and it's like I just threw up a whole bunch of random thoughts. Whatever. :)