Tonight we were had dinner and were all watching AFV (has become our nightly laugh fest ritual) and words came out of Porters mouth that I didn't anticipate at 6 years old. No, not d@mn or f#*k or s#it… We've heard all those. That's old hat. No, this was worse.
We were cracking up at a video of a little girl and her birthday cake. She questioned the amount of candles, and the #4 candle on her cake. Them her mom, video taping, says “oh! You're 5!” and we were just dying at how funny this was. We started joking with the boys that we were going to put their last year age on their cake and Porter, thinking he was being funny, says “REALLY… Bi…..tch (then ending with a smirk and very quietly.”.
Let me say this: nothing surprises me with my kids. Nothing.
My jaw dropped and Ryan and I looked at each other. I calmly told Porter that was inappropriate and he could now go on upstairs to bed and he was done for the night. I heard him go upstairs and heard the sink on. At this point Ry and I look at each other and stifle laughter because…. Seriously!? My 6year old thought it was FUNNY to call me a bitch? (now, I can totally get them repeating damn, shit etc. We occasionally use those words around here. But I can't really think of a situation where either of us has used the word bitch around the kids).
Before I had a chance to get upstairs to talk to Porter, he came down and asked for a second chance (negative, dude) and started to throw a fit saying “BUT I ALREADY WASHED MY MOUTH OUT WITH SOAP! Can't I have another chance!?” (so that was the water I heard upstairs)
I took him to bed and we talked about how hurtful that word was and that it is completely inappropriate to say it. Then he flipped out because he realized his night was OVER and he was, indeed, going to bed.
He came downstairs a few minutes later and handed me this note:
translation: “I hate you mom and you are stupid. Hate, Porter. But I didn’t mean to say bitch to you.”
Soooo we had another talk about how he was feeling and how e could handle the situation and whether or not this note was going to help the problem or
Make it worse. And we talked about better choices than a mean note.
Sigh. I hate these kind of parenting issues. I always feel like I’m utterly failing.
When I came to bed tonight I found this note on my pillow:
Translation: “I’m sorry mom for calling you stupid and hate. I love you mom. Porter”.
Maybe I didn’t do so bad after all.