holycrapimyourmom

If you're a parent I bet your days are filled to the brim with utter fear and anxiety that at any minute the world will end. It's scary enough having kids and worrying they're going to hurt themselves just by falling off their roller shoes, let alone the possibility of them walking into a Chuck E Cheese on a random Tuesday and having to duck and cover because one of the animatronics with a history of violence has beef with the day manager. (How did he get hired in the first place?!) So what are we, as parents of the future generation, supposed to do to deal with all this insanity? While there are the logical and thoughtful solutions suggested time after time like, uh, how about we don't give that dude who with a Google history exclusively on "How To Burn A Cat Alive Without Making A Mess" that AR-15, ideas like that  are clearly insane and threaten the very core of all American values of being able to own ALL THE GUNS.    It seems like the only thing we can...

" Fuck, Mommy! Please, fuck, Mom! Mom, fuck, fuck! " said my two and a half year old while watching Zootopia one evening during dinner. My husband and I looked up from our food/computer and stared at each other wide eyed. Then our our expressions began to change slightly. His look became that of a quiet accusation, and mine, guilt. Our toddler is saying "fuck" over and over again, and we both know who she heard it from. It is 100% Mommy's fault , and I know it. Obviously, if you've read previous posts, it's no mystery that I am a person who swears. I swear alllllllll the time, and I always have. As I turn to avoid my husbands gaze of disapproval I flash back to my past filled to the brim with potty mouth behavior. It all started when I was about two or so. My grandpa was holding me, cooing, making me laugh. And as he came in for a snuggle I flashed a big smile and said, "Fuck bullshit shit dammit!" then let out one of those precio...