09 May, 2007

Jake is a Potty Mouth

Our worst fears realized... you know I have always said that Jake's first words would be "I'm not retarded you stupid bitch." He has now said many words.. not repeated very many of them, but said them none the less, and none of them were those.. so I was wrong.
We have neglected to curb our language in the house, perhaps because we never thought we would need to, perhaps because this life is just a leetle bit more difficult than one might imagine. Either way.. it finally happened.
Jake is a potty mouth.

In the cafeteria at school today he is sitting with Anna, his aide, and the other children. Many of his classmates eat the school lunch, so I guess everyone had oranges today. I sent Jake to school with strawberries, so he didn't have oranges, but seeing that all of the other children had them, he wanted some. So he kept reaching for everyone else's oranges, and he kept getting told "no", then they find him his own orange, but Anna still needs to peel it, so he keeps grabbing and gets told to "be patient".
Apparently he got a leetle bit frustrated, and turned his head down and to the side (towards Anna) and said quietly but firmly... "Fuck."

Okay then.

So I got a call from the teacher who, by the way is very proud of Jake because he used the word in its appropriate context! We had a discussion and my theory is this: there is no such thing as a "bad" word. We make words bad or good or meaningful by the way we say them and where we say them and where we aim them. Just like playing with your genitals is not bad, it just shouldn't be done on the bus, or even in the living room. If a kid needs to explore their body.. hey--go to the bathroom or a bedroom.

No discipline for using the word, just gonna remind him that saying that particular word at school is not okay, but saying it in his room when no one else is around, that might be okay. And saying it when you drop a giant rock on your toe, or if you get shot in the leg.. it might be okay then too.

Just like saying "shit" after your kid's teacher tells you the story. Ahem, I guess that was okay.
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