Judge No More Sayith I

In light of my initial post, I have a confession to make. I used to judge moms. I would never be so brazen as to throw out advice or criticism, but I had my opinions. Most were about what people fed their kids, some were about behavior management, and sometimes I would have the, “wow, you can just not control that little dude” thoughts. And I say, “used to” but I am human and I still think it sometimes. So I give myself a little mental slap across the face.

Neighbor: "Is that little baby going to eat ALL that candy?" Me: "No, her mother is."

It wasn’t the birth of my own daughter that changed my ways. I still had my thoughts on formula feeding and cry-it-out method and screen time (these are all ideas that allude a non-mama, but tend to consume us once we are thrown in the ring). It took time for me to realize that to every question a parent asked, a hundred answers would surface. Of those answers, there were handfuls of pretty darn good ones. So I learned that a parent is constantly skimming through ideas on how to raise their unique child and figure out what works for their family. We are continuously pruning our methods, failing, trying out things that seem unnatural or uncomfortable, learning to say “no,” learning to say “yes,” and literally making thousands of decisions for another human being who relies on us for survival and happiness. Holy shit.

Sometimes having a partner and community makes these tasks easier. You don’t have to be completely responsible and someone else can take some of the blame when a poor decision was made. Like when your husband approves the high chair you found at a yard sale. It’s now just as much his fault when you discover it has been recalled after you have been using it for 6 months. Sometimes it makes it more difficult to have others around. You try to let the village raise your child, but for some reason the village idiot is the only one ever stepping up.

I’ve learned that other parents are my allies. Sometimes I meet moms that are boring and don’t like fart jokes and have never seen an episode of Parks and Rec and have no interest in discussing Katy Perry’s outrageous outfits. Fine. But as moms, we are more alike than we are different. Who cares if we talk for an hour about gas relief remedies and stole consistency (our children, not our own. Okay, sometimes our own). As long as we are happy and entertained and feel like we are learning/contributing, I find that poop talk is A-Okay. In fact, it is an easy way to test out some fart jokes and see what this mom is about. Or not.

I think it was a gradual transition for me to (almost) completely step of my high horse and put myself in check when I found myself making a judgment call on another parent. My online mamas’ group helped a lot. I found that we are all in the same boat, with the same problems, and the same huge love for our babes. Yet what really pushed me over the edge was being judged. I could tell that my roommate was watching me for the past four months, making mental notes of each time I fucked up. It wasn’t confirmed until recently, but I really didn’t need that confirmation. You know when you are being sized up. Your failures sting more, you bottle up frustrations to save face, you quiet your concerns and doubts because you will be seen as weak.

I think it sucks when people call each other names, especially when it is people that love each other. So if you call your child a mean name, I will judge you as being a jerk. I will judge you if you beat your children or leave them at home without food while you spend the night at Dave and Buster’s adult arcade. But I am trying real hard to leave it at that. I have no idea what your life is like, what you have tried with your kid, what your kid responds to, what kind of day you just had, what your resources are, etc. Do you love your kid? Good. I think you are doing an awesome job.