houpley

I try to watch my language around Jackson. I really do. But everybody knows some things just fly from your lips before your brain can calculate the damage. Especially in the middle of an elaborate tale or heated discussion. Who doesn't love some colorful language every now and then? We are, and have been, pretty careful around Jackson. So much so that really the only word he catches me with is "freakin'." I say "catches" because Jackson has declared himself The Boss of Bad Words, The BBW. The BBW runs a strict program. His tight regimen includes checking to ensure we aren't saying "weird" or "kill" or "dead" or "shoot" and so forth. It seems our efforts to keep him from name calling or using not-so-nice phrases with his friends has started to backfire. However, when you get down to it, a three-year-old has so little power in the household, we allow The BBW his rule. But I'm beginning to worry there has been a c...

During a recent rush to get everyone into the car, Eric blurted out, "Damn it!" It wasn't even that loud or noticeable, and I probably wouldn't have even realized he had said anything at all if it hadn't been for the two-year-old with the superb hearing in the back seat. We don't say 'damn it,' Daddy. You're right. We don't. I shouldn't have said it. If you say 'damn it' at the park, the church bells will call you and say 'no-no.' Uh... We don't say 'damn it,' Daddy. Nonnie doesn't say it, and Mama doesn't say it. I doesn't say it, and Mam doesn't say it. Grandad doesn't say it. Phillip doesn't say it and Paw-Paw doesn't say it. Eric contemplated this list of such pious friends and relatives. Actually, Jackson, I think you may have just named the people that Daddy learned it from.

There are several languages floating around our house. Eric and I speak English. We also speak Dog. That's right- we are able to communicate with Elvis on nearly every level. Sometimes it is difficult to conjugate a verb or two but for the most part we speak clear and fluent Dog. We do not however speak fluent Jack. There was once a Friends episode where Pheobe tried to teach Joey a few French phrases for his audition. His interpretation of her French lessons were hilariously off-the-wall. It would go something like: Phoebe: Repeat after me: Je m'appelle Claude. Joey: Je de coop plow. Phoebe: Let's try it again: Je m'appelle Claude. Joey: Je de plee bloom. Evidently, Joey does speak fluent Jack. Jack does have the basics down and knows/says more than 100 words. But as we work on the advanced stuff, I end up laughing until teary-eyed. Daily, I will sit with Jackson at the table, on the deck, out in the yard and will ask him to try a more complicated word or phrase. He wi...

Actual sentences Eric and I now say to each other on a regular basis: What did you do with the bwvah-bwvah? How many poops today? Did you A&D his face? Daddy, we need some M-I-L-K. (Insert eithor of our names here)! Help! I need help! There's poop! he's touching the poop!