So before I start this post, I should start by saying RIP to fish #2, Nemo. Patches (seen in the picture floating on the top of the bowl) lasted 5 days. Nemo was with us for a month. We’ve decided goldfish are too high maintenance so it’s on to a Beta. His name will be “Blue” so when he dies (I’m already anticipating it’s demise) we can say, “You’re my boy Blue!” – We’ve thought about this too much.
So last night while Jared was working late in his office downstairs, I decided to bring him dinner. Q says he wants to go with me. I told him to go down the stairs on his own. He interprets that as “Jump into mommy’s arms while she’s holding a hot plate of food”. As this was happening, I let it fly – “S!#T”. I felt like Ralphie on “A Christmas Story” when his internal adult voice says, “I said THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words”, and Q was Mr. Parker. I normally try and filter what I say around him because we have a 2 year old sponge who repeats EVERYTHING! The only thing I could think of is, “How am I going to get this out of the carpet” and proceeded to scrub like a psycho. Meanwhile Jared had started Mr. Quinn’s bath and I hear him say, “S!#t. S!#t. Mommy S!#t.” Great.
There was a time when I just wished Q could talk. Communicate. Something. It was frustrating for him and for us when he couldn’t just say what was on his mind or tell us what he wanted. I remember parents telling us, “Yeah… and then when they can talk, you wish they’d go back to being quiet.” I now understand this because all he does is talk. He’s starting to put together sentences, have pseudo-conversations and tell us exactly what he wants. As great as this is, we’re now going through the growing pains of learning to be aware of what we say and do.
I think it’s important to mention that we’re somewhat inappropriate parents. We laugh when we shouldn’t. For instance, Jared has called me “numb nuts” since we were in college (so romantic). A few months back he calls me this in front of Quinn. Quinn immediately repeats it – over and over and over again. We laughed. Once it was over I said, “We have to watch what we say in front of him from now on.” Two days later I hear Jared downstairs with our kid whispering it into his ear to get him to say it again. Parents. Of. The. Year.
I know a lot of parents say, “Just ignore it when they say something they shouldn’t” because at this age, he has no idea what he’s saying. And if you make a big deal of out anything, he’ll just keep doing it/saying it. Example: When Q was at my parents house one day, my mother bought him a new ball to play with. It was blue. I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this…. He got in the car and I asked him what he did at grandma’s house. He says with excitement “BLUE BALLS!” – I immediately called my mother to tell her how he repeats everything so we have to try watch how we say things. She responded with, “What’s the big deal? Why is that bad?” (try explaining this to your mother – it’s mortifying). Jared then decides he’s funny and says, “Quinn…. daddy has….” and Quinn screams, “BLUE BALLS!” Jared didn’t practice the “ignoring” concept.
On top of this, having a boy means they discover “parts” early. It’s natural. I get it. Q looked like Al Bundy sitting on the couch without a shirt on and his hand down his diaper at a very early age. But because he’s 2 and doesn’t understand, we get the privilege of sharing his discovery with the church congregation (at least those sitting by us). And of course it only happens when there’s no talking, no music, nothing. He lifts up his shirt and says, “Belly button!” Jared whispers “Yup… belly button. Shhhhhh…” (Quinn is still learning what “shhhhh” means) and puts his hand down his pants and says “WEINER!” You’re welcome everyone.
Now overall, I think all of this is hilarious which I know is half the problem. But how do you teach a 2 year old what is inappropriate and what isn’t? I’m afraid of him going to Kindergarten and constantly having teachers say, “Your son said a bad word” or “Quinn showed little Suzy his boy parts today.” I’ve chalked it up to the fact that we probably have to grow up a little and think like parents instead of 20 something’s trying to teach their dog how to fetch a beer from the fridge and thinking it’s genius. Don’t get me wrong, as many obstacles as we’re having with this part of growing up (clearly for all of us), it’s amazing to “talk” to my son. The last few nights he comes and lays in bed with me while I’m watching TV. He’ll lay on his stomach and say, “Hi Goose” (I’ve started to call him this because he’s a “Silly Goose”). We’ll talk about where daddy is, what Jersey (our faithful and annoying dog) is doing and where grandma and grandpa are. He’ll tell me the things he can see in the room and I’ll ask him about his friends at daycare. It’s moments like that I wouldn’t trade for all of the inappropriate growing pains in the world. Bottom line: It’s all worth it. S!#t and all.
On that note, Happy Mother’s Day this weekend!