I am ashamed to say that Andrew has learned a bad word.
And he says it frequently.
At first I thought he was saying shoot, or shirt, or ship...but alas, he was not. The phrase, "Oh man, shirt!" just doesn't make sense, although for a while I tried to convince myself it did. "Is something wrong with your shirt again, Andrew?" I'd ask hopefully, but all I'd receive in reply was a confused stare. So I stopped denying it and started trying to figure out who to blame.
Shirt.
Who was I trying to kid? The fact is I can only blame myself, although I still partially blame Chicago city traffic. What can I say? It's my "naughty word" of choice, and it's come back to bite me.
As I continue to raise my children, I am discovering a nasty little secret that other parents failed to warn me about: our children are tiny little mirrors that reflect in painful detail our own flaws and weaknesses. They learn how to live life by watching how WE live life.
I thought parenting was hard enough when I thought all I had to do was TELL my kids not to swear. But now I have to not swear either? I can't tell Andrew not to throw a tantrum and then lose my own temper a few minutes later. I can't expect him to pray before his meals if I forget to pray myself. I can't teach him to love others and then have him hear me talking bad about people behind their backs. The list could go on....
A very wise person said it best to me: I can preach at my children all I want, but it's what they SEE me do that will influence them the most, not what they hear me say.
Talk about some heavy shirt.
I considered vowing to stop "preaching" at Andrew and just start living as I want him to live, but let's face it: a two-year-old inherently needs a lot of active and meaningful instruction on the do's and don'ts of life. But I will make a concerted effort to put into practice that which I preach. And hopefully my little mirror will reflect more good than bad.
Just as long as I don't drive in heavy traffic.
