&#$@!!!

Confession: Sometimes I want to cuss out my kids.

Shame on me, right? What kind of mother has to bite her tongue to avoid telling her 2 year old to just shut the fuck up? *raises hand* Me. This mother. I feel as though I should start this post off by saying that I love my kids. Really, I do. I'd kill for them. So please nobody call child services on me. Did that sound like a threat? Hmmmm....

Moving on, the last week or so has been complete HELL with Nut. I thought she was going through the Terrible Two's the past few months and I was wrong. That was just a precursor, an appetizer of shitheadedness if you will, preparing me as she fully morphed into a Brat. Capital B on that title. She whines from the time she gets up until the time she goes back to bed. Every thing I tell her elicits a giant fit. She now spends most of her free time rolling around on the floor screeching because of something completely unreasonable, like the fact that I can't snap my fingers and make Barbie fruit snacks appear in the cabinet.

I've always been pretty good about watching my mouth around her. I'm quite foul-mouthed when I want to be (and sometimes when I don't want to be) and having kids has helped me to curb it. Since I babysit, I don't drop a single F bomb, shit balls, God damnit, or what the hell all day long. No need to expose other's offspring to that. But when those kids go home, I have found myself having a hard time lately. A really hard time. Take this exchange from yesterday evening for example:

scene: Living room. Nut is dragging around a Little Mermaid beach towel, demanding I put it on her like a blanket. Her brother (who is sick) is asleep in my arms.

R: "Mama, mermay towel. Mermay towel! I cold!!"

I put towel around her shoulders.
She immediately lets it fall off.

R: "Maaaaaaammmmaaaaa! Towel! Towel! I cold! Mermay towel!"

Me: "Shhhh! Your brother is asleep! Come here and I'll fix it!"

R: "Waaahhhhhh!!!"

Stands 2 feet from towel, pointing and wailing.

Me: "Be quiet right now and bring me the towel."

R: "Waaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh! MERMAY!" insert bloodcurling shriek. "Waaaaaaaaaaah!!"

Me: " Your legs aren't broken. Right now, bring me the God damned towel young lady. I can't get up, your brother is asleep."

Throws self to ground and rolls around kicking legs and shrieking. Towel now so close to her, she is rolling on top of it.

Baby starts to stir and cry. R keeps screaming.

Me: "Okay, seriously! Quit fucking screaming, bring me the fucking towel and thanks a fucking lot for waking up the baby!!!!"

R laughs manically, gets up, and goes to play with something else.



*sigh* Bad mom. I think she does it on purpose, just to see how far she can push my buttons. I just hope this phase of the Terrible Two's is almost over with and she goes back to her aforementioned more manageable fits. I'll wind up an alcoholic - one who cusses like a sailor - if she doesn't....