For the first time this weekend, I realized how much my dialect has changed over the course of the past two years. Now although I like to consider myself a classy, professional young woman, I will admit I had quite the truckers mouth.
My first job out of college was at a Top 40 radio station in Detroit, MI. Going to work was hardly a chore and much, if not all, conversations, meetings or off-air interviews began and ended with four letter words -- it was the norm. After moving onward in my career, I failed to leave that wonderful trait I had picked up at the door of that radio job. I was kindly reminded by my boss, a VP Marketing veteran in the industry, that the "f-bomb" had no place in corporate America. Oops.
Anyhow, I will admit it's been challenging curbing my language over the past few years and my vocabulary has evolved greatly to now include words such as "fooey", "donkey", and the random "shuck-a-rooney". What the hell does that mean? I have no clue.
Gotta admit that I miss my four-letter words. A lot. When trying to make a point or in the midst of an argument, a simple FUCK seemed to pack a little more punch than a pathetic FOOEY.
My MIL was kind enough to watch our daughter this weekend so we could have some adult time and the fooeys, donkeys and all the other garbage went out the door the second we dropped her off. It's like my trucker soul was reborn and the f-bombs were a flying. IT. FELT. GREAT. I have no idea why, but it did. Most likely because as mothers we already have to change EVERYTHING about ourselves to be the model parent as it is, that it's one thing we can actually reclaim from time to time.
After our weekend alone, my husband and I spent the day getting some holiday shopping done, which involved a trip to our local mall and inevitably resulted in sitting with the rest of the parents at the mall play-area. As we're gleaming proudly watching our daughter play nice with the other kids, climb all the structures seamlessly all of a sudden --- it happens. My reminder that my daughter has become a complete sponge. "Mommy -- FUCK THIS".
Our little stint at the play area ended as mommy walks away completely mortified with half the parents judging me with evil eyes and the other half laughing hysterically. Can you guess which group had the infants too young to understand what my precious daughter just uttered?
And there you have it folks. We may have been cool once -- but like a night of fun followed by a bad hangover, here's your reminder that any attempt to return to your pre-kid life, should be coupled with such a disclosure that your FUCKS have now become FOOEYS. Get over it.
My first job out of college was at a Top 40 radio station in Detroit, MI. Going to work was hardly a chore and much, if not all, conversations, meetings or off-air interviews began and ended with four letter words -- it was the norm. After moving onward in my career, I failed to leave that wonderful trait I had picked up at the door of that radio job. I was kindly reminded by my boss, a VP Marketing veteran in the industry, that the "f-bomb" had no place in corporate America. Oops.
Anyhow, I will admit it's been challenging curbing my language over the past few years and my vocabulary has evolved greatly to now include words such as "fooey", "donkey", and the random "shuck-a-rooney". What the hell does that mean? I have no clue.
Gotta admit that I miss my four-letter words. A lot. When trying to make a point or in the midst of an argument, a simple FUCK seemed to pack a little more punch than a pathetic FOOEY.
My MIL was kind enough to watch our daughter this weekend so we could have some adult time and the fooeys, donkeys and all the other garbage went out the door the second we dropped her off. It's like my trucker soul was reborn and the f-bombs were a flying. IT. FELT. GREAT. I have no idea why, but it did. Most likely because as mothers we already have to change EVERYTHING about ourselves to be the model parent as it is, that it's one thing we can actually reclaim from time to time.
After our weekend alone, my husband and I spent the day getting some holiday shopping done, which involved a trip to our local mall and inevitably resulted in sitting with the rest of the parents at the mall play-area. As we're gleaming proudly watching our daughter play nice with the other kids, climb all the structures seamlessly all of a sudden --- it happens. My reminder that my daughter has become a complete sponge. "Mommy -- FUCK THIS".
Our little stint at the play area ended as mommy walks away completely mortified with half the parents judging me with evil eyes and the other half laughing hysterically. Can you guess which group had the infants too young to understand what my precious daughter just uttered?
And there you have it folks. We may have been cool once -- but like a night of fun followed by a bad hangover, here's your reminder that any attempt to return to your pre-kid life, should be coupled with such a disclosure that your FUCKS have now become FOOEYS. Get over it.
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