In Which I Got Called An Unfit Mother

This isn't going to be another post about how hard it is to be a mother (well, kinda -- but that's not the purpose).  It's about how I'm sick of people judging other people.

When I was in college I went to something with my parents and I remember seeing a morbidly obese woman driving a Jazzy (you know, like a motorized chair).  I am ashamed of myself to this day but I said something along the lines of "if she would get out of the chair and walk (exercise) maybe she wouldn't be so big."  Yeah.  I'm not proud of it, but I am proud of what my dad said to me after.  He said, "you don't know the situation so do not judge."

Yesterday I went to McDonald's after Morgan's dance class with a couple of the other dance moms and kids.  It was the first time I have ever done anything other than during dance with them and I was excited to get to know them better, have some friends for my daughter, etc.

I also took Sophie.  I figured it would be frowned on if I left my 18-month-old in the car watching Hop while her sister got to go down slides and jump on things so I took her in too.  Oh, and I bought them chicken nuggets and fries -- NOT apples.  They get apples at home -- this was an opportunity to have something fun.  I do not need to explain that.

So you'd think that this post is about eating at McDonald's, huh?  Nope.  While they were eating (between breaks and with germy hands) I let them play in the play place with a whole bunch of other kids.  Yes, even Sophie-the-18-month-old.  On a play place that said it was designed for children ages 4 and up.  Heaven forbid an 18-month-old (or baby, as she will soon be called) play on anything not designed to strap her in or slide 2 feet.

I sat with my new friends and talked and watched my girls and theirs all help Sophie climb up the 1-foot tall landings.  When all 4 5-year-old helpers couldn't get Sophie down from the top, I climbed in there and got her out myself.  I was watching.  I did not see an issue or any danger (certainly it's safer than climbing on tables/chairs/couch/ladder/fire place at home, which she does, by the way).

Pretty soon (like 3 seconds later) my squirmy little Sophie wanted to get out of my arms and climb around again so I set her down and she went back to the girls and up the play place.  A few minutes later some random lady (I just LOL'd at the word "lady." She was not a lady.  Woman.  A scary cat-eyed woman) came up to where I was standing and said, "I don't think that baby should be climbing in there.  You're not paying attention to her."  I looked at her uncomfortably and said, "I'm watching and think it's fine."  Then she said, "that is for children ages 4 and up.  You are an unfit mother."

I was literally so shocked that someone would say that to a person they don't even know over such a little thing that I could not say a word except something like "um...er...your opinion" as she walked out of the play place to fill up her drink (which was probably a soda but I'm not judging her for that!).

I mean, please!  The McDonald's play place?  Unfit mother?!  Throw me a friggin' bone!  Does she know that I have not scrolled through Facebook or Instagram this whole week so I could spend more quality time with them?  No.  Or that I was up twice in the night with Sophie and once with Morgan, who ended up sleeping in my bed?  No.  Does she know that my husband was out of town and I was a single mom for a few days doing everything I could to keep my kids safe and happy?  No.  Does she know that I got 2 hours of sleep (that one is my fault, sure -- stinking book) but still managed to get up early with my kids, get them ready (and looking cute!), feed them something good for them, take them to ballet and then to McDonalds so I could let my daughter make friends in our new town?  No.  I am just that "unfit mother" who let her "baby" play in the play place designed for 4-year-olds.

I told my friends what she said and their jaws dropped.  They said stuff like "no you're not," "I can't believe she said that" and other insightful things to make me feel better.  By then I was shaking.  I don't know if I was mad or what but I was literally shaking.  When she came back in to the play place room I started thinking of things to say.  Finally I went up to her.

The kids she was with were lying on the ground so I looked her and said, "do you know how dirty that floor is?  You're letting them play there?  You are an unfit citizen" (she was obviously too old to be their mother so it had to be "citizen."  Not "person" or "human" or anything most people would think of.  My word was "citizen").

A woman she was with started shaking her head and said, "it's not bad" and I said, "You're right.  It's normal for kids to get dirty and play on floors.  But," and I looked at Cat-Eye again, "how dare you judge a mother like that?  How dare you?  Would it be better if I just strapped her into her carseat so she couldn't move and play?  No!  You must not remember what it's like to be a mother."

Then the woman she was with said that she doesn't have kids and I kept going off calling her an "unfit citizen" (gah!) and other such things that I can't think of now but were pretty great.  I was just really thankful for the soda break so I could think of things to say to this evil, evil woman who is Satan incarnate.

Eventually I gathered my children, put them safely in their car seats, called my mom and started bawling my eyes out.  Then, of course, I had to explain to Morgan why I was crying, which probably scarred her for life.  I should just start taking them to a counselor now.

It's funny.  One of my new year resolutions was to not judge people -- like even celebrities and former popular girls from high school who were so mean (who honestly never read this blog so it is not you).  I just feel like everybody judges everyone too much when the world would be such a better place if we built each other up.

So think about that next time you see the "fat little girl" being pushed in the stroller by her parents.  You don't know that she has a brain tumor and a side effect of her medication is extreme swelling.  Or that this is the last outing she can take before she dies.

Think about that when you hear of someone who has just declared bankruptcy.  You don't know that the father and provider just went through a major medical emergency and his insurance refused to pay and that the mom is working 3 jobs to pay all the bills she can.

I've heard the saying about if you knew everyone's story you would love everyone (or something along those lines).  It's true.  It's hard to judge and hate if you have an understanding.  So just don't (unless it's Ted Bundy or the Unibomber -- then judge away, my friend)!

In closing I'd like to quote the poetry of the very talented Salt N' Pepa and say: "There's only one true judge, and that's God.  So chill, and let my Father do his job."