A Mother is Mortified....A Blog is Born

When your baby smiles at you for the first time your heart melts and you know you'll never be the same. When that same baby turns 2 years old and screams "Fuck it!" at the top of her lungs in a packed Target store, you know it's time to start drinking....I mean blogging.
Oh yes, my precious little pig-tailed darling decided to bypass potty-training and go straight to potty-mouth.
It was supposed to be just another typical trip to Target.
Get little one strapped into the cart....check.
Distribute snacks, sippy cup and Ruby (favorite doll)...check.
Daughter's first attempt to stand up in cart...check.
Have the obligatory "Now remember we DO NOT stand up in the cart" chat....check.
OK, all systems go.
We moved our way through the aisles, gracefully navigating the sea of customers. The mood was light, the cart was filling up with goodies and then she dropped the bomb. "Fuck it!" she screamed. Wait, what? She couldn't have. "Fuck it! Fuck it! Fuck it!" I was paralyzed. Where did she learn that? Not from me. No way. "Fuck it!" A hush came over the store. "Fuck it! Fuck it!" "Sttopp" I stammered. "Noooo, we don't say that." Her big blue eyes stared back at me, studying my face, she sensed my panic and she knew she was in control. "Fuuuuuuuckkkkkk! Fuck it!" Her screams grew louder, my face grew paler and the crowd grew bigger. There was laughter, shocked reactions and then a Mother's worst nightmare...the judging other Mother. She looked at me in horror, covering her little ones innocent ears. I continued to try to get my daughter to stop her rant as Judger Mother got closer and closer. "The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout...down came the"...."Fuck it!" Sweat was pooling in the small of my back. Judger Mother was now by my side. "Get control of your child," she squawked. "How could you teach your child such filthy words?" I was speechless. I could feel the tears ready to spill down my cheeks. I looked at my daughter, searching her face for some recognition that Mommy needed her help, needed her to be that sweet little girl I knew she was...."Fuck it!"
This time she actually had it right....fuck it...we're outta here.
And so....Mortified Mommy was born.