Meri Perra blogs about the challenges she and her partner face in trying to raise their girls with feminist values
Coming out of the shower this morning, I heard my darling, dear to my heart, two-year old say, “Shit, shit, shit.”
What was remarkable about this moment is how un-remarkable events like this are in our home. The truth is, we’ve had little kid swearing in our family for some time.
Our older daughter had developed a potty mouth well before she was potty trained. I remember Catharine, full of new-mom brain and sleeplessness, having trouble parking the car one day, just after our second daughter was born. We heard a little voice out of the back seat.
“Oh shit, oh [f bomb],” Rosa said to herself, timed perfectly with Catharine’s back-up attempts.
