So my Lenten resolution has been all but annihilated by the ever-present bile and other filth in my mouth. For the life of me, I can't wash it away. There is just something about a nice, juicy cussword on which my throat loves to wrap around.
of no profanity. No cursing. No cussing. (Get ready for some really creative blogs.)
I should really give it up entirely, at least in front of my son. He's a complete parrot now. He can even use the "wrong" words in the right context. The last thing I need right now is some busybody accusing me of nurturing a potty mouth.
Sometimes I think, what's the friggin' big deal? Expletives are so common 
place in the everyday vernacular. It's almost subconscious how they pervade our speech. I probably have said curse words in my sleep. They can be so useful in conveying just the right amount of vitriol to sum up the moment, the thing, the person. Who says we don't have the right to offend? Not only do we kill each other with kindness, sometimes we kill ourselves. The recipients of swearing should just try to develop a stronger stomach to those bitter little pills, which sometimes are loaded with truth.
This is un-Christian of me to say, I know. I'm going to confession soon anyway.
I am proud to be the first mother to be banned from my neighborhood's mommy Yahoo group for my militant political views and direct, unabashed language. I thought it was a generally well-educated, liberal group, but the baby-boomer moderator and her posse of oh-so-proud "original" members ganged up on me, feeling threatened by lil' ol' me.
I actually think I got kicked off because they were jealous that I could work Erasmus, Emily Dickinson, and the ex-Presidents into one sentence. Clearly over their heads.
I'd rather be political than popular. I wouldn't want to go out and play pool with those bitches anyway.
(For more about why I got thrown out, read my comment: The Parenting Conversation: Why Time Magazine Piece on "Hip Parents" Gets It Wrong.)
