the f bomb

I'm blaming this on on the Department of Sanitation. They're an easy scapegoat, as everyone has been all up on them since the lack of plowing during the blizzard of 201o and the complete lack of garbage/recycling pickup still, one month later, due to the snow that won't/can't freakin' melt b/c it's colder than a witch's tit outside. But seriously, I think the conundrum I have gotten myself into right now with Alexandra's new and frequent usage of the f-bomb stems from one night in particular.

I went to get the kids and I took the jogging stroller, since I thought I'd be schlepping through some snow/ice. It was on the day that all us teachers thought for sure would be a snow day--problem was--it wasn't. I got a call from Alexandra's daycare that she was sick so I made a doctor's appt. I got the kids, hung out at the Tribeca Peds office and played with wooden toys while over-protective parents scorned their kids for playing with wooden toys (I personally could give a rip), and headed home.

Well, seemed that the Dept of Sanitation decided to plow while I was out, and in one place on my block they plowed a MOUNTAIN of snow/ice/dirt/dog pee & feces RIGHT UP TO THE STAIRS OF AN APARTMENT BUILDING. This = no sidewalk at all but a mountain of snow/ice/dirt/dog pee & feces to summit with my jog stroller. I could have walked around the block, but it was cold, after 6pm (when I"m usually feeding the kids, not on the street still getting home), and shoot--I'm in shape. I strapped Nico in nice and tight and began the climb.

After my extreme toddler sledding post you have probably been questioning my parenting overall, and, let me tell you, you should.

So, I'm hauling Nico over the mountain of snow/ice/dirt/dog pee & feces and cursing like a sailor. Alexandra has scaled it lightly like all kids do, and was walking up the street. I thought she was out of hearing range, until I heard her start yelling, "You f**ker! F**ker! F**king snow!" Uh-oh. I shut up, almost catapulted Nico out of the job stroller by tossing it over the last leg of snow mountain from hell, and had a conversation with her about not using the word. Didn't hear it again until...

...Wednesday. I was still sleeping b/c of previously mentioned UTI and Adam was getting the kids ready and I was trying to sleep which is impossible in our house from 7-8am during a school day. Adam was trying to get the kids' coats on, and suddenly Alexandra just started saying, "F**ker!" like she had turrets. Poor Adam tried to squash the language, and was somewhat successful.

But then I was walking her home the next day. She was telling me about her day and she said, "Daddy gave Nico the mail, and Nico ate it, and daddy said, 'Nico, you little f**ker!'" (which Adam swears he didn't say and I do believe him, he really doesn't use the f-bomb).

Ahhhhh!

Any tips on subtracting Alexandra's amazing ability to appropriately use the f-bomb?