I will forever and always remember when I got in trouble for saying my first curse word. I was in kindergarten, and one day was trying peel a pear I’d picked from a tree in our backyard when I commented “this pear is as hard as a damn rock.”

My mother, in the next room asked me what I said and I repeated it, innocently wondering why she had that look on her face. I was sent to my room and told never to use such language again.

Damn was just a word I’d heard some big kids use on the school bus, and I think I was throwing it in there to sound like a big kid myself. I had no idea it was not permitted in my house, even though I’d never used it heard there. (I can still count on one hand the times I’ve heard my mother curse, and one of those was when she got her finger under the needle of the sewing machine!)

I got to thinking about all this again recently after we spent a family movie night watching Julie & Julia. It was a PG-13 movie with no nudity or violence, but there was a scene where two women talk about being a bitch, and there’s one (really unnecessary) use of the F-word.

I don’t like my girl to hear bad language, but there’s only so many G-rated movies out there (the only ones I think you can count on to not have bad language, it seems lately) and the story was a good one.

My course of action for dealing with this sort of thing has always been to point out to her the words that are not acceptable in our house - so that she will avoid the fate I had of not knowing I was doing anything my parents thought wrong. But, I have to wonder, if hearing that language too often makes it “not a big deal” and therefore all the more acceptable for her to use when she wants to be a “big kid.”

I really began to think about this the next morning as I heard my husband discussing the topic with his mother and saying that “bitch” is becoming not such a bad word anymore.

I pondered … it wasn’t that long ago that my girl was learning at preschool and grade school that “stupid” was a bad word. If she and her playmates heard someone use it, they reacted as if they’d said something horrible. Is this the same society that will come to feel that bitch is a socially acceptable word to use to describe someone? 

No matter that I tell her differently, or even that I model it by not cursing in front of her, Harvard psychologist Steven Pinker says that children are far more influenced by their peers.

And they will be influenced by what they see and hear on television and movies. Heaven help us when it’s foul-mouthed kids like the character Hit-Girl in the recent movie “Kick-Ass.”

What’s a parent to do?

Image via Creative Commons by Carolyn Tiry.

Last night my (all be it overtired) girl had a major meltdown and laid two tons of guilt on me because she was, apparently, the only first grader who didn’t have a parent come to any of their field trips.

This, after I’d just left work an hour early that day to go get in lake water and ride an tube behind a boat with her. This, after I’d taken off half a day of work last week to paint faces at her school field day.

I tell ya, I don’t get no respect, no respect. (she says in her best Rodney Dangerfield impression)

I know I’m not alone in dealing with this sort of thing. If you Google “mom guilt” it returns 2,350,000 results. One of the top results is another blog named workingmomsagainstguilt.com. In a BabyCenter survey, 94 percent of moms said they feel shame over issues ranging from the amount of time they spend with their kids to the kind of diapers they use.

And while the recent article “31 Reasons You Shouldn’t Feel Mom Guilt” is pretty funny (#3 reminds me of last night’s meltdown and #22 hits a little too close to home for my husband’s taste), it doesn’t really do much to assuage my guilt over having the only child (yeah, right) who didn’t have a parent come on a field trip in first grade.

So, what will I do? I will count my blessings for a flexible workplace that rewards me for results instead of face time and I’ll leave early today to make the last hour of this field trip/end of school party at the park.

How do you deal with your Mom Guilt? And, is there such a thing as Dad Guilt?

If you have read my articles or my personal blog, you know that I love to scrapbook. I originally started collecting scrapbook supplies when I was pregnant with my older son, Nicholas. My friend had done a book each for her daughters and I loved the idea, so she got me started with some basic supplies. And then being pregnant sort of took over everything, and then having a newborn took over anything that was left. Despite gathering supplies, I didn’t really start to scrapbook until after Mark died.

A small part of the reason I started scrapping after Mark died was because I was trying to hard to keep my mind occupied after Nicholas fell asleep and I was alone in our apartment. There are only so many people you can call in the middle of the night before they fall asleep on you. The biggest reason I started scrapping after Mark died was because I was scared I would forget him. I latched on to scrapbooking as a way to “save” Mark for Nicholas.

That is one of the reasons I was so intrigued when I read about the Good Grief Blog recently. The purpose of the blog is “a scrapbooking journey through loss and healing.” If you scrapbook or have ever seen someone else’s scrapbooks, you know how effectively the craft captures stories and memories. If you scrap like I do, the journalling or storytelling part of the process often comes before the corresponding photos. To me, the memories are best captured through the journalling, and writing has always been my best therapy.

The layouts on the Good Grief Blog are beautiful and the stories are touching. Amanda Probst started the Good Grief Blog after her father died in a farming accident. I recently talked with Amanda about scrapping, grief and her blog.

Sherry Carr-Smith: Why did you start the Good Grief Blog?

Amanda Probst: I started the Good Grief Blog for two reasons. First, it helps me. I’m one of those people who really benefits from deadlines, so challenges are awesome motivation. Through the challenges on the blog, I hope to continue to push myself to scrapbook about my dad and am stoked that I’ll get to share that journey with others…and be inspired by the fabulous contributors there.

My second reason for starting the Good Grief Blog is that I truly believe that this is what my dad would want. He’d want me to live my life and remember him in this way, not dwell on what could have been. I feel like this is his message that he wants me to share, and I’ve always trusted my dad.

SCS: Why do you think scrapbooking helps with grief?

AP: I think that grief is such a very personal thing. For me, though, scrapbooking is a therapeutic outlet for my grief. Through it, I can work through things I especially miss, things I wish could be different, things I want to remember. I am also able to document and celebrate my dad’s life so that my sons won’t completely miss out on knowing their Papa. Basically, it gives me the power to actually “do” something rather than just dwell on my sadness.

SCS: How do you suggest people capture memories?

AP: I suggest people capture memories in whatever way works best for them. That’s kinda the point. It has to work for you, not for everyone else. I’d also suggest taking it one memory at a time. It’s easy to become overwhelmed and I know many people steer away from scrapbooking about lost loved ones for that very reason. By taking it one memory at a time, though, it all seems more doable. For me, taking it slowly like this actually makes me feel like my dad is still with me for even longer as I continue to tell his story. It’s not something I’m in a hurry to “finish” because then his story would be done, if that makes any sense.

SCS: Do you see people scrapbook about the moment of a loved one’s passing?

AP: This isn’t one of the topics we’ve covered as of yet on the Good Grief Blog, though I can envision it being a strong challenge. This one, in particular, would be a very emotional layout…one that not every one is willing to face just yet.

SCS: Anything else you think would be helpful to encourage widowed parents to capture memories either through scrapbooking or other means?

AP: Mostly, through the blog, I’ve found that so many women write to me to thank me for one of two things…showing them that they’re not alone and/or showing them that scrapbooking about loss can actually make them feel reconnected with that lost loved one. More than anything, I truly believe that sharing your loved one’s story is one of the best ways to keep his/her spirit alive.

Looking through the Good Grief Blog has encouraged me to work more on Mark’s story in scrapbook form. There are several pages in Nicholas’ first book about Mark, unfortunately, those are the only photos we have of them together. The challenges Amanda’s blog poses will help me find ways I can talk about Mark for Nicholas and save pieces of him for both of us.

I hope you all take a moment to look at the Good Grief Blog and possibly take up the challenge of scrapping (or writing or painting) about your lost one.

After work today, I met my husband and daughter at the park and on first look I thought she’d left the house wearing only a shirt! When I asked where her pants were she assured me that she had shorts on under the shirt (which barely covered her bottom).

She knew I wasn’t pleased, though, and on the way home we talked about the need for wearing something on the bottom that’s longer than the top; but, she still had to get in a couple of comments about how her outfit was “stylish” and I wasn’t letting her be “stylish.”

Parent challenge of the day … how to tell a seven-year-old the difference between stylish, sexy and slutty?

The timing was interesting as earlier in the day I’d read a post on GamePolitics.com about a report out of the UK by Dr. Linda Papadpoulos (”glamorous psychologist forever popping up on daytime television“) in which they said she noted: “High street stores sell video games where the player can beat up prostitutes with bats and steal from them in order to facilitate game progression,” leading to the following “clear” message to girls that this type of media portrays, as interpreted by the doctor, “… young girls should do whatever it takes to be desired. For boys the message is just as clear: be hyper-masculine and relate to girls as objects.”

Games were actually only a portion of the media examined. Dr. Papadopoulos talks about the impacts of the Internet in this video.

One of the key recommendations in the report included ensuring that music videos featuring sexual posing or sexually suggestive lyrics are broadcast only after the “watershed” (which means 9:00 p.m until 5:30 a.m.).

Here in the U.S., I know sexual content can be found on our television at earlier hours than that. “Two and a Half Men” on at 8:00 p.m. in my time zone, for example, has plotlines that frequently revolve around the character Charlie’s womanizing sex life.

We do our best to avoid these shows (thank goodness my girl and I both like Food Network), but it’s impossible for me to shield her from sexual themes and images all the time.

So, how do you discuss what is appropriately stylish for a nearly tween girl to wear?

My husband and daughter went camping this weekend. I had two nights and two days to myself and what did I do? I looked around the quiet house and came to this conclusion: if there is a flat surface around, we will cover it with stacks of stuff.

Tables, countertops, footstools, nightstands, dressers, even the dog crates. Everything was covered in clutter. Especially the closets.

A top article on clutter in Google search results comes from AARP’s magazine and its arthur notes:

In Dante’s Inferno there is a circle of Hell reserved for two warring armies, the Hoarders and the Wasters, who spend eternity rolling enormous boulders at each other on a desolate sun-baked plain. The boulders are actually diamonds and represent the possessions they had such unhealthy relationships with during their lives. “Why do you hord?” the Wasters shout. “Why do you waste?” the Hoarders scream back. This repeats, endlessly, joint punishment for their respective sins.

While our clutter does seem a bit hellish at times, in keeping with the rest of my life, it seems hoarding is only one of my many clutter personalities.

Organized Homes says “take aim on your household’s clutter problem by going to the root of the problem: your own thinking.” They outline four types of thinking that lead to clutter:

• The Hoarder who fears they won’t have what they need if they let go of anything.
• The Deferrer who like Scarlett O’Hara prefers to think about it tomorrow.
• The Rebel who is still mad at Mom for making them pick up their room and wash the dishes.
• The Perfectionist who must have the perfect organizer or label system before they’ll even start.

So how to tackle those things we put in between us and our clutter? Good Housekeeping has a neat online tool to help kickstart you. You use drop-down menus to select the portions of your home and room that you want to clean and it provides you with tips specific to that area.

I chose to tackle two closets during my free time this weekend. I gave in to the Perfectionist a bit and bought a few new things to help, but my Deferrer was banished and I told my Hoarder to get over it.

The rooms the closets reside in may be an even bigger mess than they were before, but boy it sure feels good to look in those hidden storage areas now.

Anyone else got the Spring cleaning bug? How do I keep the momentum going to attack the rest of the clutter?

Driving my daughter to school this morning, I heard my morning radio show discussing a new study out that says if you want your kids to be passionate about art or athletics, you need to leave them alone.

Published in the latest Journal of Personality, the study was a collaboration with scientists from the Université de Montréal, the Université du Québec à Montreal and McGill University. And, according to Yahoo! News LiveScience, the study “focused on what psychologists call autonomy, the basic need to feel like you’re acting based on your own values and desires, not those of others. Controlling parents chip away at their child’s autonomy, by pushing them into a hobby, the researchers say. So when the kid picks up his clarinet it’s not out of a desire to play music, but due to a sense of obligation or a fear of disappointing his parents.”

The morning show hosts were divided about the results, with some pointing out the benefits of parents pushing kids to stick with things like piano lessons.  As one blogger said (in a post with a title I loved - ”They Say: Leave Those Kids Alone“): ”It’s a tough balance for parents to strike. We want our kids to learn the art of perseverance. We don’t want them to quit simply because they aren’t getting their way. Often pushing them to stick with it just another game or practice allows them the chance to finally ‘get’ how to make that jump shot or master ‘Three Blind Mice.’”

Me? I had a total flashback to when I faced that decision a couple of years ago. I blogged here then about my daughter’s desire to quit piano and got a lot of great feedback from our readers.

Today, our daughter’s only extra-curricular is Girl Scouts, but we do continue to make music accessible to her by providing her with instruments to experiment on in her own play (Santa didn’t bring her the full drum set she asked for this year, but compromised with a much smaller digital drum that’s, expectedly, seen a small amount of use). She is still expressing no real passion for an instrument, but does talk about voice lessons. And, very recently, she’s begun to talk about joining a swim team, which seems like a good fit because she is such a fish in our own backyard pool.

So, as we contemplate these activities, I’ll be heading into them with good advice our readers gave me before, and now also scientific study to help me feel better about not pushing too hard. That’s the sort of balance one of the study’s author’s talks about.

“I’m not telling parents to let their kids do whatever they want without limits,” Mageau said. “The most important message is to focus on the child’s interests and not to impose one’s own on them.”

“Balance is bullshit.”

I first heard that epiphany at a women’s conference last fall. Since the Winter Olympics commences for the XXI time on the stage of

Gravity wins every time.

Vancouver in less than 72 hours, I’m sharing it here today.

The connection, you ask? As usual, figure skating events will be among the most watched. Thousands of breathless spectators and a few nitpicky commentators will scrutinize the skaters – especially the women — as they careen, leap and twirl on their millimeter-thin blades over polished frozen water, just waiting for the moment when someone’s barely-skirted butt bites the ice. A collective “oooh” will reverberate around the rink. Commentators will tsk. Judges will downgrade.

Me at home? Every tumble, every oooh, I’ll be cheering at the live example of the pure truth in those three little words: Balance is bullshit.

For years, I bought the BS on balance. Mental health, serenity, contentment – it was just a matter of achieving the right balance. It led to constant self-chatter: “Work’s becoming too consuming. Scale back there, amp up quality time with the kids. OK, balanced work and home life. Wait, what about time for you? Schedule a girls’ night out. OK, now I’ve got it. Oops, exercise has fallen off the wagon. ow Ho

“How about yoga class every other Wednesday? No, the car needs new tires, we really can’t afford it. But what about balance? What price can you put on your mental health? Maybe I can just go to bed earlier. Catch up on my rest. Hey, who’s that strange guy in my bed? Uh-oh, better plan a date night.”

And on and on and on. Another truism: It’s always something - especially for women and even more especially for mothers - that knocks us off balance. Yet we keep chasing the illusion. Achieving balance becomes yet another to-do, not to mention another source of guilt and blame. “It’s my own fault friends are neglected/I bought Valentines for the kids’ school party instead of making them/the home business languishes/fill in the blank…because my life isn’t balanced.”

So to hear that BS busted was empowering, to say the least. It made me recall my last yoga class (some time ago, what with the need

Tree pose

for new tires and all.) Yoga consists of the practice of sets of poses – standing poses, sitting poses, inverted poses, balance poses. According to my instructor, balance poses – another term whose brevity belies the enormity of its truth; what is balance if not a pose? – actually become more difficult later in the day. It’s easier to hold a tree or a flying eagle in the morning than it is in the afternoon, and easier in the afternoon than the evening. I see this reflected in the flow of women’s lives, too. When we’re young, there’s less to balance and it’s easier. As we grow older and take on more commitments, it gets harder. You’d think that’s when we’d ease up on ourselves.

Come Friday’s opening ceremonies, that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll be hopping around my living room, cheerfully trying to regain my tree pose, and cheering when gravity inflicts the inevitable in Vancouver.

When I was getting married some of my friends from college joked that it was a sign of the Apocalypse. That’s because all through college I vehemently proclaimed that I would never get married and I’d certainly never have kids.

Yes, I eventually learned that I should never say never.

But even after deciding there was a place for a child in my life, I didn’t immediately feel comfortable in the role of mom.  Her infant years were hard for me - I ran back to work as soon as maternity leave was over. I wanted to be where I knew how to do my job and people could tell me what they needed (as opposed to me trying to guess what all that crying was about).

To some of you I’m sure that sounds harsh, but I really think it’s a myth that all women naturally have some instinct for mothering.  Instead of being proud, I resented when my husband would say I was better at some element of parenting than he was.  It wasn’t because I had any more practice at it than he had (never did the whole babysitting thing and was the baby of the family). If I was better at something it was because I poured over books, magazines and websites to learn how.  Something he could have just as easily done.

Toddler years had their own challenges. Getting a mug with “World’s Greatest Mom” on it was still far from my idea of success; but, things at least got a little better once she was able to verbalize her needs and wants. This may still sound uncaring, but to the contrary, I began to realize during this time that I had a love for my daughter I couldn’t explain. It runs deeper and more differently than anything else I’ve experienced. Maybe I do have some sort of instinct after all - like the one that means you never want to get between a mother bear and her cub.

That doesn’t mean I didn’t often wish for the days when going out didn’t take the advance planning of lining up a babysitter. I still cringed a bit when someone would call me a mommy blogger even though I blog here about issues related to motherhood. But, I also found myself becoming more vocal about support for girls and representation by women - not for advancing myself, but in the hopes of better things for women of her generation.

Then, an interesting thing happened the other day. I was watching the news with my laptop in, well, my lap and I saw a couple of guys I follow on Twitter mention that they were heading to San Francisco where the weatherman had just said it was going to rain.  So, I tweeted to them about packing an umbrella and David Armano replied “you’re such a mom.”

And I didn’t flinch. There was no cringe. No resentment.

Instead, I replied with another “mom” retort: “And eat your vegetables young man!”

I think maybe, seven years into this mommy gig and entering my fifth generation of life, I might be finally becoming comfortable with the whole “mom” label.

Photo compliments of Leandro Queiroz via Creative Commons.