Soap never worked for me, either.

It has become quite apparent that my three year old is going to have the mouth of a sailor.  She does everything with energy and fervor so it's not like I'm surprised since it seems like the passionate tend to have the swearing thing down much sooner than those less "fervent."  This morning she called me a dummy, and within a second of it leaving her lips, followed it with a "Sorry, Mom."  Then she scurried away full speed and continued playing.  I've obviously dealt with her saying that word before since her immediate response, manipulative as it was, was to apologize.  Smart kid.

Fast forward three hours.  I had just left them to work upstairs and they are playing dolls and shopping, etc. in the basement but I can hear every word they utter.  Thing 2 suddenly is yelling about her Polly Pockets not having pants. I hear Thing 1 say, "Knock it off she doesn't need pants."  Thing 2 yells, "She needs pants, bitch!"  I stopped dead in my tracks since I hadn't heard that particular word leave her mouth ever.

Thing 1 asks, "Did you just call me a bitch?"

Thing 2 says nothing. Thing 1 repeats the question.

Thing 2 says, "Yes. I need pants."

Thing 1 says, "Well, that's a bad word and I may have to tell Mom on you."

Thing 2 responds, "Sorry, Sissy. I won't say it more."

And there ya have it. I didn't intervene since all that would cause at the moment would be me dealing with Thing 2 and punishing her and having her manipulatively say sorry only to use the word again when it most fits her mood. I'm no "dummy."  It isn't going to stop her just like soap didn't stop me from saying bad words. (I learned to mumble them from the first soap episode on as did Thing 1 when she had her first bad word episode.)

Another milestone reached in the family.  The B word has been said by both of the princesses.  Thing 1 said it when she a year older, but she said it to me.  I told her to go to sleep.  Her response: "I don't want to, bitch."  Of course, she really didn't know what she was saying and I honestly had no way to track where she had heard that word (I do swear on occasion, but mostly never around little ears.)  Once she knew it was a bad word, she used it to her benefit from there on out, but mostly, as mentioned before, under mumbling circumstances so her ever-aging mother couldn't decipher it (or so she thought).  Thing 2 said it because I'm sure she has heard it from Thing 1 or possibly on tv or in a moment of weakness, from me, maybe.

Thing 2 has had this unique way of bringing out the worst in me. The kid never stops. Ever.  Now that she talks, it's become increasingly harder to be patient. And understanding.  And pro-active instead of re-active.  This is seriously the toughest job ever...being a parent.  It's not that I'm doing it alone that makes it hard.  It's just that I'm doing it, period.  I think it'd be easier to not do it, like many do.  Just let the kids do as they please and be the pal they need in life instead of insisting they do what is right (which is usually what is hard) and doing what is good for them (again, usually what is hard).  But I don't want that kid.  I want the kid who has manners, is pleasant to be around, loves others no matter who they are, and most importantly, knows God deeply.  Tough row to hoe (being a former hoe-er, I understand this statement more than most.).

As I was sitting and sighing and pondering how to handle Thing 2 and her antics, I decided to open my blogroll and Max Lucado's entry spoke directly to me.  Maybe you need to hear it, too.

“He is able . . . to run to the cry of . . . those who are being . . . tested.”  Hebrews 2:18 AMP

Jesus was angry enough to purge the temple, hungry enough to eat raw grain, distraught enough to weep in public, fun loving enough to be called a drunkard, winsome enough to attract kids, . . . radical enough to get kicked out of town, responsible enough to care for his mother, tempted enough to know the smell of Satan, and fearful enough to sweat blood . . .

Whatever you are facing, he knows how you feel.