I'm Screwed

I have four children and I am the oldest of three children. I've always taken a keen interest in those articles about birth order and the impact it has on one's personality.  I've always taken pride in being the first born and a leader, etc.  I've always wondered what kind of bullshit really takes place with the 'baby' of the family.  Now I know.


My youngest child is a boy. He will be three in just over two weeks. He is the infamous tracker of my penis-less existence.  He also has me completely wrapped.  He is very soft.  He has ginormous green eyes.  He is spoiled rotten.  I like him.


Here's the problem. He is already big for his age and by the time he's a teenager will no doubtedly be much taller than me. And judging by his current attitude and aptitude for not missing a beat, I'm in big trouble.  He is the first child who has really made an issue out of the fact that I swear. A lot. He has said to me on more than one occasion, ever so gently, "Mom, don't say fuck to me today, okay?"  Which, for the record, I don't swear at him. I'm more of a "The fucking cat puked again" kind of person.  Although now I try not be.  One night he asked for a third hot dog at supper and when I commented "For the love of God, that will be your third one", his response was "Ah,fuck!".  My response was to duck into the hallway to laugh. I know, I'm a bad parent.


Case in point. He is, like I said, going to be 3 very soon. May 14th, to be exact.  He, like all my other kids did, has/had a choo-choo.  To clarify for those people who did not have to wipe anyone's asses but their own today, this is a soother. Some people call it a pacifier or a suckie.  Around these parts it's a 'choo choo'. He, at almost three, has had it far longer than any of his siblings did.  Why? I'm tired.  The thought of losing sleep in the weaning process is more than I can bear.  Then the other night, I thought, it's now or never, so told him it was lost.  He was disappointed but really, it wasn't so bad. He went to bed with little fuss. This was two or three nights ago.  Then this morning he was up before 6 a.m. so by 7 p.m. this evening, he was barely managing to cope with anything life has to offer.  I put him to bed and he was crying and so sad and so overtired and mentioned his choo choo. I told him I didn't know where it was. He was upset.


I gave it to him.


I'm fucked.