Confessions of a Judgmental Mom

Before I had kids, I judged all of you other mamas out there. That’s right; I’m not proud of it, but I did. And now that my own little one is 18 months old – I TAKE ALL OF IT BACK.

My goodness, what was I thinking?

Here, in no particular order, are things that I regret judging you for:

To the mama of the girl with messy hair: I used to think, why don’t you run a brush through that sweet child’s hair? Or put one of those adorable Texas-sized bows in it? Your poor little girl looks like she just rolled out of bed, with hair frizzing every which way. When I become a mom, I would think, my daughter will have combed hair.

Well, except now that I am, my daughter has the messiest hair of everyone I know. She refuses to let me put a bow or rubber band in it. I have tried and begged and pleaded with my strong-willed child to let me put just one pony tail in that gorgeous head of curls, to keep that long hair out of her face. But it’s a battle I lose . . . daily. She basically goes to church in a beautiful dress, and a head of hair that looks like she just rolled out of bed.

To the mama of the child who is eating french fries: I used to think, you’re the parent, you get to choose what your child is going to eat. So only offer them vegetables and healthy things and your child will never demand something fried. Or sugary. Or carb-loaded.

And then I realized that sometimes, it’s more important that your child has something in their tummy because a hungry child is a fussy child, and so there are some times when I’ll just give her a piece of bread and hope she’ll eat SOMETHING. Anything. CHILD, PLEASE EAT!

To the mama with the house full of toys: I was late starting my family, which means my house was so wonderfully decorated, full of beautifully breakable things on low shelves and scissors lying within easy reach. I remember going to your house and seeing the toys that had taken over completely, and I would think, Lord, please don’t ever let that be my house.

And yet, as I write this, there is a slide in my living room and a red wagon in my front entryway, because it’s too cold for my toddler to play outside and it makes her happy, and so it makes me happy. We (gulp) even turned our breakfast nook into a playroom because it was the only space we had available, so instead of my gorgeous kitchen table and shelves displaying all of my beloved dishes, there is a plastic kitchen, a rocking horse, and books spilling out of baskets on the floor. And you know what . . . I love it. (Not to mention I can keep an eye on her while she plays.)

To the mama of the child being loud at the restaurant: I used to get so annoyed when your child would shriek and have the nerve to disrupt my quiet dinner with friends. Or secretly groan as I surveyed all of your child’s food strewn on the floor. I always knew that I would train my children to behave themselves at the table.

And now I have an 18-month-old who can sit in a high chair at dinner time for exactly 10 minutes before completely losing interest and insisting on running around the restaurant. My husband and I have almost sworn off eating in restaurants completely, instead preferring to enjoy take-out in the comfort of our own home, where our daughter can be as loud as she wants and can play with her toys while we sit back and enjoy an (almost) leisurely dinner. We have come to realize that this is a season, and for this season, restaurants just equal chaos.

And to the mama of the baby on the airplane: I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for praying that you wouldn’t be on my flight. After taking my baby – alone – on her first flight, well, I am SO VERY SORRY for judging you. I TAKE IT ALL BACK. And I’m also sorry for the person who had to sit next to us on our flight home.

OH MY WORD I’M NEVER FLYING AGAIN.

Being a mother has brought me such unspeakable joy, and also taught me such humility. Fellow mamas – I eat my words. All of them. And I don’t judge you anymore. Can we call it even? Please?