I recommend all mothers make a note to blog (or journal) when their kids are small so that memories can be preserved. In an effort to let my grand kids know what their parents were like when a memory resurfaces I am blogging it down.
My daughter was a precious angel as a toddler. She had many ear infections and thus didn't talk much till about the age of two to three. One day we heard her out in the back yard talking to the boy across the fence. I can still see the blue gingham dress she had on with her curly white blond hair trailing down her back. She had her hands on her hips and she was reciting every curse word she ever heard, said in toddler-speak: some-a-bitch, 'dannit', shit, poopyhead, and a few others that I cannot write down in fear of the blogging police. I PROMISE you she didn't hear those words at home. Stan brought her in the house to the hall bath and soaped his fingers to wash out her mouth. He told her he had to wash out the bad words and to open up. She opened up and he liberally 'scrubbed' the words out of her mouth. She was not happy and cried real tears and was sent to her room. Nothing more was said and the rest of the day was uneventful. That night as she got ready for bed she knelt down on her knees to pray. After God blessing each of the animals on her wallpaper(her room was done in Woodland Friends paper) She got very serious and said God don' you let Jesus ebber say shithead, some-a bitch, or dannit cause you have to wash he mowf out wif soap. Amen.
My little angel.