Five things I will never say in front of my daughter

Nothing teaches us the power of words more than watching a child learn to speak. Navigating the murky waters of a language is no easy task-- and that goes for the grown-ups too. Words are powerful, and should only be un-caged from our mouths with the utmost care. But we all know that’s impractical. No one, parent or otherwise, can be mindful of every utterance every moment of every day.

We all screw up and say things we wish we could take back-- a situation made infinitely worse when it occurs in the presence of our kids.

And while I’m sure my children will hear a litany of four letter masterpieces fly past my lips along with some undoubtedly colorful phrasing for bad traffic situations, spilled paint, or tight pants, there are some things I will try exceedingly hard to never say in front of my kids-- specifically my daughter.

1. “I’m fat.”
This one is hard for me because, well, I’m a woman. Moreover, I’m a woman who has grown up in a society that worships at the cult of thin. And I would be lying if I were to pretend I haven’t said on more than one occasion : “This is America; There’s no such thing as too skinny.”

For me, that will always be a little true. I know, logically, that I’m not fat. But I will never be able to look at my body and see any less than five disposable pounds lingering just beneath this skin. For me, there’s no such thing as too skinny.

This way of thinking is diseased though. I caught it somewhere along the way, and while I can’t cure it within myself, I will do my damnedest to keep from infection my daughter. So while every fiber of my being may ache to make derogatory comments about my body, I will shut my foolish mouth in front of Kathryn. And while society will tell her a thousand times over that we are all too fat and should do nothing short of self -flagellation when passing any reflective surface in penance, I will not. She may catch this sickness, but not from me.

2. “That’s gay.”
Because while it’s superficially little more than a colloquialism, the underlying implication is that gay means bad. And I reject that idea with every fiber of my being.

3.”Stop asking ’why.’”
Okay, I think I’ve already blown it a few times here because nobody asks “why” more than a two year old, but I hope to God she never stops. Because life, taken at face value, is dangerous. We all need to question the information we are given and the reality we are told to accept. To fail to do so is to invite unscrupulous behavior and unchallenged tyranny.

Teachers, doctors, newscasters, politicians and yes-- even parents-- should be questioned. Information is power, and I want my daughter to always seek greater meaning and hidden truth. Even if that mean spending 25 minutes explaining why I won’t put ketchup on her ice cream.

4. “I’m so stupid.”
I do stupid things. I make stupid decisions. I have stupid hair. But I, as a person, am not stupid. And putting myself down in front of my daughter will only make her think it’s okay for her to be equally cruel to herself.

5. “This is hopeless.”
Because it never is, really. There’s always hope. Even when it seems like there isn’t.

There are other things, of course. I will never say things that are racist or encourage (or allow) her to be cruel to animals. I will fight like mad to instill within her a sense of empathy and teach her the dangers of allowing yourself to think of any group of people as a “them,” since it’s all “us,” really.

I’m not entirely naive. I know she will hear all of those things again and again, sometimes from people she loves and respects. And she will have to come to her own decisions about why she will or won’t say them, as will Josh. There’s every chance they will learn these things and believe them to be true.

But not from me.