Another one who's exempt from the non-swearing injunction as I'm a single dad, even if I style myself MaD - Mum and Dad.
And sorry, I do swear in front of my children. Frequently. In spite of being well educated, pernickety about language and grammar and having a very extensive vocabulary (as in fact do my kids - most of their vocabulary is even clean).
But I swear in front of them because life is shit and fucking hard work, my fucking kids drive me up the fucking wall, I have no other sodding release, I can barely cope from fucking day to fucking day and - did I mention - my fucking kids drive me up the fucking wall and I can't fucking cope all the time.
And my kids swear back at me.
BUT. Early on I had to decide which battles I was going to fight, because I couldn't fight - let alone win - all of them. And I decided that letting them swear at each other, or me, was a better outlet than let them smash up the house or me or each other.
BUT. They know perfectly well when it is allowable to swear (with me or with each other) and when not.
AND. Absolutely everyone else they come into contact with thinks that they are polite, well brought up and exemplary children.
It also reminds me of an American writer called Cynthia Heimel , who's writing I greatly enjoyed. The forward to one of her books was written by her son, Brodie. One of his fondest memories was, on thinking what he and his mates could do, deciding to 'go round to Brodie's and say "fuck" a lot.' Apparently he turned out OK.