No Safe “Secrets”

Ryan is participating in a language development study.  He was a participant about two years ago, before he was talking.  A few weeks ago the research team contacted me and said they wanted to have some of the original children participate in their latest round of research, and asked if we would consider having Ryan participate again. 

The research involves having Ryan wear a vest, with a slot for a special recording device.  It is about the size of an iPod.  It records for 16 hours a day and will pick up everything within a 6 foot radius of the child, to “hear” what the child hears, and then determines what the child says.

It is a little odd on recording days, because I am very mindful that anything and everything I say will be recorded.  The researchers assured us that they have heard it all- even awful, drug out fights between parents.  Fortunately Joe and I haven’t had one of those yet on recording day, but it does keep you on your toes.

Today was a recording day, and I felt well enough to go to work.  The boys went to day care.  I stayed a few extra hours at work to catch up, and honestly I was kind of glad I didn’t have the “pressure” of dealing with the recorder.

All went well, until the last half hour before Ryan went to bed.  I called him downstairs to help me pick up toys.  Normally he fights tooth and nail when it is time to pick up toys.  But tonight he didn’t even fuss.  Bonus I thought…when the recorder’s computer plays back our recording, they aren’t going to have anything on me.  They will probably think I am a wonderful mother!

WRONG, big double WRONG!  As Ryan sat down on the floor to start picking up his very first toy, which was a block, he asked in a crystal clear, perfect voice, which even a crappy recorder would pick up, “Mommy, why do you say MotherF****R when you step on these?”

Oh my God!  If that recorder had a screen, it would have seen me turn about 10 shades of red!  The worst part is I admit it, I did say that word *once*- I swear, just like Ryan said- exactly ONCE when I stepped on a block, pointy corner side tearing into my foot.  It was like six months ago. 

I can’t believe he remembered the incident, AND remembered the f-bomb word clear as a bell, and WHY did he choose to ask me about it tonight, of all nights since the six months ago it had happened?  It is like he just KNEW everything he was saying was being recorded, and this was the “perfect” time, to ask me about that word.

I tried to recover- I mumbled something like “we don’t use that word Ryan,” but really there wasn’t anything I could say to fully recover after that gem he dropped. 

I am sure I will be known forever now as the mommy who uses the f-word in front of her children.  If the researchers haven’t heard that before, they have now.  I can imagine this hip group of language scientists sitting around in the college town, analyzing their data when one of them perks up and calls their colleagues in to hear the latest fight between parents, or the “secret” that the my four year old just gave up. 

Oh well, I am sure hoping that this isn’t the first time they have heard something like this.  After I got over the initial embarrassment, I did have a good laugh over it and told Joe.  He had a really good laugh over it (at my expense).  In hindsight I should have said something like, “we don’t use that word Ryan, and I’ll have to talk to your dad about the words he uses.”  🙂

Hopefully our next recording session in a month won’t be so “interesting,” and no other “secrets” I thought were long forgotten will be exposed.