Nurture v…. More Nurture


I am a fan of finger quotes. I catch myself using them all the time… Maybe it’s the curse of the weak-minded, because I’m hiding behind a veil of sarcasm (ah, sarcasm, my favorite), but it beats swearing. Not that it matters, because Chewey has ears like a freaking bat when it comes to swear words.

I mutter a curse word under my breath.

Chewey, three rooms away: “Jackass? Mommy, what’s jackass?”

“Another word for donkey, honey. I just really, really like donkeys.”

I’ve learned I can’t completely suppress the urge to swear, so I  substitute other words. I’ve been using a lot of “freaking” and “Schnikeys.” I tried using “donkey,” but…

Yeah, it doesn’t do a damn thing for me either.

In any case, even when I’m not swearing, I’m starting to realize some of my phrasing can be viewed as… unique. I have a tendency to use old-fashioned words. I use words no one else uses.

For example, today when Monkey and I were taking a walk in the park, she said, “Clearly, Mom, I have issues with this. Clearly.”

I have issues is all mine, baby. It sounds very odd coming out of the mouth of a six-year-old. I wonder how often I say it?

Or when she recently told her brother, “If you’d stop being contrary, maybe I wouldn’t be so vexed all the time.”

Oh, sweet Mother of God, she sounds exactly like me, and I sound… so weird.

Those are my words. I know I have a particular fondness for the word vex, and I’ve referred to Chewey on more than occasion as “The Contrarian.” In my defense, maybe it’s because he often is one, bless his heart (that’s another phrase Monk’s picked up from me).

Both my kids have their father’s personality. For the longest time, I felt like I had just been an incubator for two little mini-M’s. There was so little of me in them.

But now they both use my language. My words.

Which makes their lexicons… diverse. It’s good, don’t get me wrong. There are far worse things. But hearing the words coming out of their mouths, it explains a lot about high school. I remember someone once laughing at the way I phrased something–I can’t remember what, but I do remember it was in my Senior Advanced Placement English class–and me thinking, “But that doesn’t sound weird.”

Now that I hear those same words coming out of someone else’s mouth, it totally does. Sorry kids.

I guess it’s bad when you’re in a room full of nerds and they think you are the nerdy one.

It’s alright. I was nerdy. Still am, in fact.

And, clearly, I don’t have issues with that.

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