Inappropriate Language

We have certain rules in my house.

·         Be responsible for your actions

·         Education comes first

·         Always have some fun

·         Try something new everyday

·         I’m your mom, not your maid

·         Own your emotions and talk openly about them

·         Love yourself for who you are

Another non-official rule is that we talk one way inside the house vs. how we might talk outside the house.  I know, a little backwards from most parents.  But then again, as we have established, I am not most parents.

I swear.  I own it.  It’s not lady like, and yes, I understand this is not setting a good example for my children.  But let’s face it, this is not going to change (please see last rule).  So, instead, I explain to my  girls that not everyone talks this way, and that while mom may use bad words they are not allowed to use them until they are an adult.  Still, I allow them– within reason- to talk one way in the house (saying words such as “this sucks” is a big deal, trust me.  They both like to charge me a dollar for more serious infractions) with the knowledge that they are not allowed to repeat such language with others.  My GG takes this rule, like ALL rules, to heart.

For those of you who don’t personally know my GG, she is the most empathetic, sweet, responsible child you will ever meet.  I’m not kidding; I have told her on more than one occasion to please go text her friends, stop doing so much homework, and go have some fun.  She is the first born, and takes her role seriously (honestly, you should feel bad for her- having to live with two babies of the family,  both Belle and myself, cannot be easy).  GG knows the rules of the house, and follows them to a T.  Does not push them; never tests the line.

Until soccer.

GG has playing soccer since she was 6- I can still remember getting the call that she had made RUSH as I was standing in the Phoenix office, tearing up as I heard Coach Shannon say that she wanted her for the U7 team.  Since that time, being goalie has been her thing- the position she prefers, the position she thrives in.  When she is in the zone, my GG owns the box.  You can see the concentration in her eyes, in her moves, the way she anticipates where the ball will go.  Her competitive nature comes out- the red head gets a little fiery.  Yes- that is my girl.

Now GG is at the next level of play, a true competitive travel soccer team.  This is our first year playing at this level, and at the first “pre-season” tournament things did not exactly go her way.  She had not played all summer.  The team was worn out the second game due to the hot Georgia sun, the ref made a few bad calls, she had a few unlucky breaks, she made a bad move. 

And she was mad.

The game was called for lightening, and as the team crossed the field she was exiting at a 90 degree tangent away from everyone else.  I know this look.  Heck, I own this look, and let the girl borrow it from time to time.  I clearly knew this was one of those times.

I met her about half way across the field, and she greets me with “I am so MAD.  I Just. Can’t. Talk. About. It.” (Please see second to last rule).  A few seconds later, she looks at me and says

“I need 5 minutes of inappropriate language.”

“Okay”, I say (trying not to laugh- she is so serious about this), “Go ahead”.

And for the next few sentences, she tentatively lets it fly.  She lets out an F-bomb.  She inappropriately used the B word (yeah, the ref was male).

But let me tell you she meant it!  And is it wrong to say that I was proud of her?  This girl NEVER breaks the rules, and it’s good for her to feel like she is crossing the line a little now and then.  And if a few swear words are the biggest issue I have to worry about, then let’s be honest- Thank.  God.

And after she lets these few sentences go, she looks around and says “I  don’t want to say anything else because I don’t want Belle to hear”.  And my GG is back, worrying more about others than herself.

We talk about the game the whole ride home.  It takes a lot of convincing for her to not be so hard on herself, to accept that in life we get tough breaks and mistakes will happen, but you move on, learn, and live to defend the goal another day.

And that’s just what she did- less than 24 hours later, in one of the best games I have ever seen her play.

And both the day before, and at the end of the 60 minutes of the last game, I have never been so proud of her.