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September 09, 2008

Digital Epidural, Volume 15

By Michelle Boudreau at 05:28 PM| Permalink | Comments (4)

Stephen and I were talking the other night about having a baby and how it would change our lives. We both understand that we'll be losing the freedom and flexibility our current lifestyle affords. In principle, this concept is easy to understand, even if it is overwhelming. Specifically, though, what makes me nervous is that I can't really understand how much of this freedom we will lose until our little guy or girl is born. And even then, I imagine it is an evolving process, not just an event.

So while I can prepare myself to go out less, get up earlier, be covered in baby spit up -- I won't really know what my life will be like until the baby is outside of my womb. Not being a huge fan of the unknown (unless it comes to not finding out the gender of my baby), this is an overwhelming thought.

With that in mind, I thought I should start getting myself ready in other ways. I was talking to a co-worker of mine the other day who has a 5 year-old. She was telling me how she had to discipline her child because he said the word"stupid". Apparently "stupid" is not a word that is allowed around their house.

That got me thinking about all the words I use on a regular basis that are probably not baby appropriate. I try not to use profanity, but freely confess that traffic and machines that do not do what they are supposed to do (even though I'm, of course, doing everything correctly) sometimes inspire a rage in me that can only be quelled by uttering words from the forbidden pages of the dictionary.

This habit seems a lot easier to cure, though, than some of the words that are more firmly planted in my vocabulary. For example, I often refer to things (or people) as "retarded", "stupid", or "dumb". I often say "shut up" and I regularly threaten to beat Stephen up (which causes him great fear. . . I'm sure) when he doesn't obey my benevolent and loving commands. As a child, these are all words and phrases that I remember being off limits (especially before we were exposed to the more egregious curse words).

So now, when I find myself saying "that's retarded" or "that's dumb" or "I'm going to kick your butt, Stephen" (which is usually followed by a "you wish you could" and me responding "you wish I couldn't" and this goes on for awhile as you can imagine), I realize I'm going to have to change the way I speak . . . very soon.

This realization also led me to the realization that my sense of humor is not necessarily G rated. If you've ever been out in public with me (and especially if you're the Poetschkes), you've no doubt been victim to one of my too loud, inappropriate jokes (usually induced by wine). I also find bodily functions hilarious and good topics for conversation (sometimes even meal conversation).

Now, you may be thinking – "What's wrong with her?" If so, we probably haven't spent enough time together. Seriously, let's hang out and you'll see how hilarious poop can be.

Or, you may be thinking – "She's right, that kid is going to be MESSED up." In which case you've probably spent too much time with me and probably wish you could erase from your mind some of my off-color jokes for which I apologize.

In any case, the clock is now ticking down for me to learn how to sensor and/or change myself. At the rate I'm going, my child's first phrase will be "mommy is dumb" followed closely behind by a poop joke.