I often read about mothers judging other mothers. We all do it. I am not a particularly judgey mcjudgerson type of person but I’ve caught myself giving side eye to another mother based on something I see at that moment.
It’s later that I remind myself that I don’t know the context or what led up to the decision made by the mother I’ve judged.
The one mother that I judge the harshest of all is myself.
There is some pretty awful weather happening throughout the eastern half of the country right now. Though Florida is spared the feet of snow that New England is struggling against, temperatures did drop with the cold front that came through yesterday.
We’ve been blessed with a relatively drama free winter so far. Pea has been in remission. Her Juvenile Arthritis pain has been minimal.
When I woke up this morning, my joints were stiff and my knee was throbbing. It’s the curse of age. Based on how my joints felt, I wasn’t surprised when I woke Pea up and she couldn’t comfortably move her legs.
She even asked for her medicine. I didn’t even have to give her a popsicle to get her to drink it.
We dropped Pork Chop off at school and I decided to keep Pea with me because her belly was bothering her (probably due to the pain meds–even though she took it with food.) The three day weekend threw me off my routine so I needed to run to the grocery store.
Pea rode inside the cart because her joints were still bothering her.
While at Publix, we ran into a regular substitute teacher (who is also a parent.) She said hello to Pea and since school had already started, asked her “if she wasn’t feeling well today.”
I was mortified.
I blurted out that Pea’s arthritis was bothering her and she wasn’t “sick.” In my mind, she and the other school mom that happened to be walking by (note to self-stay clear of Publix right after parent drop off) were judging me for bringing a sick kid to the grocery store and spreading germs all over the place.
When it comes to my appearance or my material possessions, I don’t give a flying flip what others think. But when it comes to my parenting skills and my homemaking skills (or lack thereof) I put tremendous pressure on myself.
Does it really matter what other moms think when they run into me and my child at the store? No, it doesn’t. They probably weren’t even thinking anything close to what I assumed. As I write this, my normally sassy little diva is fast asleep on the couch with her lovies. She outgrew naps a few years ago so her exhaustion is further indication that I made the right decision in keeping her home.
This parenting gig can be difficult but I make it harder for myself. Nobody know these kids like I do. Nobody goes through what I go through everyday. Nobody goes through what you go through every day. Sometimes we have to remind ourselves that we’ve got this. This is what I do. I’m the mom.