Being on maternity leave, I am, for the most part, enjoying the opportunity to walk my children to and from school. Generally, the mornings are a coin toss. Often I am nagging the kids to walk faster, or having an argument about why it is necessary for them to wear snow pants when it's minus 15 with the windchill. On other mornings, I am quizzing Devlin on his spelling or math. Sometimes, we chat about what's happening in school or they tell me what their dreams were about the night before. It is greatly soothing to the soul to listen to Ceilidh sing a popular song from the radio, or watch her giggle uncontrollably as she chants the age-old rhyme "Mama had a baby and the head popped off" as she flicks the yellow dandelion tops from the stems.
In the afternoons, Aisling chatters incessantly as we stroll to the school to gather up her older siblings. Sometimes, she talks about her favorite Samurai Power Ranger, or what she wants for a snack. Last week, she had a serious discussion with me.
A: Mommy, you say some bad words to Uncle Billy. That's not very nice.
M: I do? (Then I realize, she's overheard my brother and me joking around, and interjecting "Shut UP" as we each make ridiculous comments.)
A: Yup. It's not nice, and Uncle Billy doesn't like it when you say bad words. You need to be nicer to Uncle Billy.
M: Yes, I will certainly try. You're right, I do need to stop saying bad words.
Later that evening, my second child was being very, very difficult. Very loud too. I said some choice comments to my second born. Who, of course, ignored them and continued with her tantrum.
Aisling, however, heard every word. With a serious look on her face, knitted brows an all, she said to me sternly, "Mommy, those are bad words. Remember we talked about this earlier in the afternoon? You need to stop saying bad words!"
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