My February post for the Red Barn Blog’s Decor & Cool Spaces column is up. Check out how I turned some kitchen storage into a system that takes advantage of vertical wall space in a nursery to organize diapers and diapering essentials. Click through to see the whole post.
If you’ve read even one entry on here, you probably realize that I’m not afraid to throw out an f-bomb from time to time. Yes, I know I’m guilty of excessive four letter word usage. However, I swear, since having a baby I have really tried to cut back. Well, maybe not at first. I mean, at first he had colic and we moved across the country with a U-Haul, 2 dogs, a cat, a newborn, a 4 year old, and four severely sleep deprived adults, so there were LOTS of obscenities flying out of my mouth then.
But, as the months went by, we became more conscience of our foul language usage in front of Kendall and at least made an effort to try not to make “fuck” every other word in our conversations. It was just hard to be diligent when he clearly had so little grasp of language and how to use it. It’s not like a six month old is going to know any better, right? Well, as he got older, started crawling, pointing to things we got a little tougher on ourselves, but I can’t say we completely eliminated the word from our vocabularies.
It’s just so fucking useful. Like when that asshole on the toll road decides at the last minute that he needs to get in the farthest open lane so he can speed through the toll pass, and he cuts you off and you see you and your child’s life flash before your eyes – appropriate time to say, “Fuck you you fucking asshole! Why don’t you quit being such a fucking dickhead driver!”
Another appropriate time to express your irritation with a potpourri of f-bombs? When you get home from Ikea with a seemingly easy to hang, simple ceiling lamp, and proceed to spend the next 4 hours pulling your hair out and trying not to kill your husband because the stupid Swedish piece of shit won’t hang level. Couples therapy should be sold next to the checkout stands at Ikea (like magazines and gum are at grocery stores). I bet it would be a great price.
So it was in the midst of trying to get this lamp up last night, while simultaneously trying to not kill each other, that I hear Kendall in the background saying his favorite word, “duck”. It’s quite cute. He loves ducks. He will point to his rubber duckies and say “dck!” and he also correctly labels and identifies the bastard ducks at the pond that still won’t eat anything we throw at them. And sometimes he will just call anything a duck….and sometimes it just sounds like “uck”…. Fuck. He is just saying “duck” right?
Kendall is 11 months 3 weeks and 2 days old