New Year, New Mouth?

Okay, does this photo make me an abusive mother? How about if you are privy to the added tidbit that I think she's teething and I am torturing her while she's miserable? If she had more digit control, I am fairly certain she'd be flipping me off.

My New Year's resolution: lay off the truck-driver, foul language around Millie. No, let me amend that because that statement is an insult to truck drivers. Having grown up around all boys and never wanting to be left behind simply because of my girly parts, I adopted a dirty, dirty mouth at a shamefully tender age and I have never let it go. It's fun at parties and gets a unique reaction from people who mistakenly think I'm a churchmouse good girl, but I really need to reign it in. Did I spell reign right? Millie doesn't need to know her mother is filthy and I don't want a call three years from now from her pre-school teacher explaining that she's been removed from her class for repeatedly asking to use "the fucking bathroom." It's entirely possible. So, I will give it my best. Although, it's 5:59 on New Year's Day and I have already fucked it up, er, I mean blown it several times. Twenty-five year habits are hard to break. Wish me luck.