Judge Mommy

I think we're all judges in municipal courts.  We walk around with our critical eyes and find something that we feel, is seeking a verdict.  When you're a mother, it's like that right has tripled.  You now have even more of a reason to cast stones and proclaim decrees.  While, that's not really the case, it doesn't stop anyone.

I try my hardest not to be a judgmental mother, not to be Mother Perfect, the one who thinks she is so much better than everyone, that she can tell each and every mother what they're doing wrong, or at least think it (and you probably have known a Mother Perfect too).  I've never really been a laid back person before, and even though I thought motherhood would make be even more high-strung than I was already, it's actually made me the opposite, at least a little.  And trust me, I needed it.  (I'm sure someone out there disagrees against the idea that I'm more laid back, but bite me.)

This does have a point though. 

At times, I do find myself mentally scolding mothers who let their children pick out whatever and how much candy they want, just to witness the mouths of cavities these poor children have, or the excessive amount of silver fillings.   I give myself a mental smack as I think about them, because while my stomach can churn as much as it wants, cavities can happen to anyone.  Aside from that, I really rarely ever think about what other mothers are doing in a judgmental manner because in all my naivete (which my husband continuously makes fun of me for) I really have myself convinced that we're all trying our hardest. 

But Mother Perfect started becoming me last night as I witnessed this mother last night at our local shopping center.  She had quite a few children, all running in different places, and the youngest one, a baby around 14 months, she let him roam about, assuming at least one of the other children were watching him.  Meanwhile, he was running (yes, running) with an ink pen he took from a shelf and the mother saying she had no intention to pay for it.  His diaper was so full that it was half off in his little shorts (yes, shorts) and I mean, REALLY full, his face dirty (although, when is Bailey's face not dirty?), his feet were barefoot, and the other children were bickering about what they were buying.  And as hard as I tried, I couldn't get past the fact that this toddler was roaming around by himself freely with an ink pen and an incredibly soiled diaper and nobody said a word.  The mother was more concerned to make sure that no one's stuff was being bought with HER gift cards, yet with their own.  And this may be a concern, but it was an over twenty minute concern of hers while the youngster continued to run around.  Did I mention that this was around midnight?

It's not my place to judge because actions have consequences, but I had myself wondering how long it took for his diaper to be changed, and if the ink pen ever found its rightful place.  I wondered how many places he made it to while the rest of his family argued about who was buying what.  He probably had enough time to drink tea in China and walk across the Golden Gate Bridge, if he could find it.

Just so you know, I really don't think I'm Mother Perfect.  I just try really hard to be as good as I am for Bailey and while I spend some hours agonizing over how I feel certain people criticize me at times, I try to get over it best I can because I know I'm not totally screwing up.  No one is Mother Perfect, and there's no point in trying, but toddlers probably shouldn't run unattended with an ink pen and I probably shouldn't think anymore about it.  Case dismissed.