I swear a lot. A whole f*cking lot.
My parents despair of me, random strangers who I chat to can’t figure me out as the sweet-smiling lady who opened her mouth and a trash can fell out.
It has always been a part of how I communicate, mostly because of my comedy background and the characters I created: they were always big swearers.
But when I got pregnant with my first kid, I, you know, ‘adjusted myself’ in lots of ways.
I did those things we all do when we realise a big life change is on the way: we look at the things that we have to do to incorporate that change into our lives in a way that works best for everyone.
So when I realised I was about to become a mum, I made two big decisions about his I lived my life;
- I quit smoking, and,
- I decided that I would henceforth only swear onstage or online, but never in front of my kids.
Five years into parenthood now and I must confess that the word ‘never’ has become a little bit loose.
Of course I swear in front of my kids from time to time.
I mumble “For fucks sake” under my breath at least 20 times per day.
I cry “Bastard!” when caught off-guard in an unfortunate barefoot-on-Lego incident and then quickly morph it into “Bastardoaramadoodlepingpong!” and just tell my inquisitive son that I was practising my Spanish.
I start to say “Shit!” after every time there’s no hot water or there’s another sticky handprint right on that wall that I just cleaned.
And I really, really want to roar “Motherfucker!” at the carseat buckle that just refused to fasten when I’m in a hurry.
But I don’t. Just because I’m a potty mouth doesn’t mean my kids have to be.
I don’t want them to go around swearing when they go to primary school because of me.
I want them to be respectful, mannerly and most importantly, speaking in a language that children use which, in my mind, comes 100% without swear words.
I can be a Sweary Mary in my own time.
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