My children are allowed to swear

One of my daughter's first ten words was «Mannomann». If a millet ball didn't find its way into her mouth: «Mannomann». Did the screw cap just not want to open? You guessed it: «Mannomann». One of her brothers also follows in her footsteps, albeit wordlessly. If something doesn't work the way he wants, a sigh of relief follows, a slightly annoyed «rrrcho».

Man!

I work in a similar way. If I'm annoyed, I don't throw vases off the table or punch holes in the wall. If something doesn't go my way, I count to ten inwardly at controlled moments, followed by a hearty «Gopfertöri!» at less controlled moments.
I'm an impulsive person, I get upset quickly, but just as quickly I calm down again. And letting off steam verbally helps me to do this. And my children can do that too. Don't get me wrong, I don't explicitly teach my little ones to swear. But I don't talk them out of it either. If a «Mannomann» helps them to pick up the screw cap again instead of dropping it in exasperation, fair enough. If the theatrical sigh stops my almost two-year-old from throwing the building block at his brother's head, fair enough!

Swearing as a motivator

British researcher Richard Stephens has discovered that swearing triggers a stress response in the body. If his test subjects swore, they lasted longer during sport, for example. In addition to adrenaline and cortisol, swearing also releases endorphins, which reduce the sensation of pain. Or make them forget their frustration*.
I don't want to encourage my children to lash out verbally at every little frustration. However, if the scolding acts as a catharsis, then it's time for me to open my ears when it comes to swearing!

Mama Haddock: A hundred thousand howling Lego pieces!

My children are still small, so their attempts at swearing are cute. For now. But I also realise that not all swearing is the same. A «sh***» from the mouth of a four-year-old doesn't work for me either.
If I ever have time, I will create a Schwander's swearing lexicon, age rating 0. I would be inspired by Captain Haddock. Nobody swears as beautifully harmlessly and at the same time as fervently as he does. How about a nice «you inappropriate Lego piece»? Or an affectionate «you inappropriate doll's sock»? If my children don't want to stick to that, they'll just have to become rappers later.
I hope you read this text with a twinkle in your eye. Otherwise, please allow yourself a hearty «What a load of rubbish!» and click on. I'll just sigh inwardly too, I promise.
*The full study by Richard Stephens et al. can be read here.
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