F%&#ing Shoes

Okay, so I'm about to tell you something. And can you please, promise you won't judge me? Because I assure you, I know, this is really bad. Like, this is a thing I am not proud of whatsoever. It's terrible, I know it. I want to change it.

This morning, we were getting ready to go to the park to meet a friend. Things were actually going really well. We were late, we are always late, but I wasn't tearing my hair out about it. I was just getting the kids out of the door, and saying "We need to find our shoes and put on our shoes". And then, my sweet, sweet girl, said "Fucking shoes."

Yep.

She wasn't really clear. Probably I could have pretended that she hadn't said that word. If someone else was with me I would have pretended she said something different. But she did. I know she did. And what's worse, she said it matter-of-factly. Like that's just what you call them.

When I'm stressed, and angry, I swear. It's disgusting. I'm not proud. And I really don't want to. But sometimes I do. When we are leaving the house in the morning, sometimes it is a real process. It drives me mad. By the time I've gotten all of us dressed, dealt with at least one good poop explosion, and gotten everything organized... I'm tense.

Some mornings I do well. But very often, the last pitfall is the shoes. So by the time we get to put out shoes on, I will often snap "Just put on your fucking shoes!" And now Georgie thinks they are called 'fucking shoes.'

I know. I know. I'm terribly ashamed. I kind of can't believe I'm confessing this to you. But this is what I do. I'm not all lovely words, and beautiful thoughts. Sometimes I am cranky, and horrible. Ugly, and angry. All too often in fact.

So I sat down with Georgie, and I apologized. I told her that we shouldn't say that word. That it's not a good word. I told her that they are just shoes.

I am not proud of this. To be honest I don't even want a record of it. But I am putting it here, because I want to be real. I don't want my blog to be a place that is only filled with the good stuff. I don't want to present this image of myself as a perfect holier-than-thou person. Because I am not perfect. Oh no. I am not. I am lazy, and disorganised. I lose my temper far too easily. But I don't want to. And I am going to try to do better. I am going to try to organize myself better, and work on my time management, and my stress. So that we don't have 'fucking shoe' moments anymore.