Why I Allowed My Son To Curse, Once, On the First Day of School…

Image result for cartoon coach yelling


If I had to describe my son in the simplest way possible I’d say he’s the cool nerd and I love it. He’s me in boy form and it’s totally awesome. I was the kid that danced, jumped from trees, played sports, and loved fun. Yet I was serious about my books. Skip class? Have you lost your mind?! My mother would kill me. And I actually LOVED school.


Cayden is now in a new school. Kindergarten, can be challenging in and of itself. So I’m left to believe it was rough starting a new school away from all of your pre-school friends. He did amazing the first day. No tears and no complaints. The second day… not bad. Day three was a completely different story. He bawled and it hurt me so bad to watch him in a such a state. Day four was the same thing even though we had a lengthy conversation about the importance of school and making new friends on day 3. He wasn’t trying to hear me at all. Day 5…he got to curse one good time and all of our problems were solved.

Don’t look at the screen like I’m some bad mom either. Here’s what happened. We pulled up to the school and his anxiety kicked in. I began with the appropriate/inspiring mom conversation that probably sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher and he was three seconds from tears. I was running out of options and I had no clue why but I turned into a damn football coach or something. I began asking him a few questions. “Do you realize how amazing you are? Do you realize how intelligent you are? Do you realize that you are the coolest damn kid I know and everyone here will soon be fighting over who gets to sit next to you? Screw being nervous. Screw the fact that you make make a mistake, we all do. You will always have your old friends but you will miss out on so many beautiful people if you don’t open your mind and your heart. You are the bomb son. You’re the shit!” His eyes lit up. Really? For that last statement? So I played on it. We went through 50 positive affirmations in the car and I ended with, “Now say I’m the shit.” He was flabbergasted. “Really?” I’m like, “yeah say it. And say it loud.” So he did. Tears gone, face lit up, and there was a beam of confidence. Now let’s get out the car and kick this day’s ass! You should have seen my boy with his head held high placing all of his things in his locker.

Now, don’t get it twisted. He can’t do that again. This was a one time only thing cause Mommy was desperate and I needed my baby to have a good day. Unorthodox as it may have been… it worked. Two weeks later we are still kicking each day’s ass. No more looking back…



Until next time….

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