While there may be a lot of potty humor in this house of boys, there’s not a lot of potty talk. We’re a silly and ridiculous family and all challenging topics are game for honest conversation, but mostly we keep it clean.
Now Liam, my first born, is a rule follower, of course. He never swears and he’s very quick to call me on it when my words get colorful. It’s absurd, when you think about it, me hoping I don’t get in trouble with my kid. So instead of being chastised by my teenager, I decided to change the rules.
Swearing is allowed for any and all of us in three instances – talking to a billing agency, dealing with insurance, and managing seizures. Now I can just hang up the phone and yell in freedom. Do your @*#(*@#&* job!!! Just pay the *#@(&@# bill!!
Liam has been known to quickly report to Garreth upon his return from work that, “Mommy had a sweary day.” They know I got s&#t done and it wasn’t easy.
And seizures. I’ll never have anything nice to say about them. Yes, sometimes we just ignore them and sometimes we attend to them with tenderness, sometimes we wait them out and move one. And sometimes we, now that the rule makes it acceptable, swear at them or about them or to them. “That was bull#h%t, Aidan. Those are mo-fos.” These are the moments to tell it like it is and these seizures are a theif and destroyer.
I certainly don’t feel crazy all the time, as this photo may suggest. But today is the day my FaceBook feed will fill with people wearing purple, standing with us, sharing their own stories. We shine a light on Epilepsy to say it needs to be cured, gone from my life, or at the very least, treatable.
Oh right, Aidan’s Epilepsy has proven to be untreatable thus far. That’s the kicker. Yes, he’s started medical cannabis, but we don’t get that quick easy miracle story like others. We never do. So I take deep breathes, remind myself we’re certainly not at the end of the line yet, and garner my patience.
Today is Purple Day and this is why it matters to me: