March 1, 2010
I think I know everything about being a mommy.
And it took me going to 4 baby showers since Hudson was born to realize that I don’t.
Because ordinary, at baby showers, I’d be all, “Listen to me. I’m really smart, and I know all about this crap. And if you do it differently than me, not only are you weird, but you’re wrong.”
I’d find a way to turn the gift I got the new mommy into a 21-step tutorial. I’d say, “Here is how it works, and if you don’t execute it precisely as I’ve instructed, your baby will probably die. Here, I even laminated this card for you.”
And while I’d be showing a new mommy how to properly diaper a baby, some other mom would be all, “Yea, that way is cool and all, but try this instead. And BAM, my thunder would be stolen, AND she would actually do it faster and better. Because she’d make her own wipes out of organic cotton pledgets saturated in rosewater, which hazel, and tea tree oil, from a tea tree that she grew in her back yard. And instead of me being nice and saying stuff like, OMG! You’re so creative and at one with the earth, I’d get all judgy, and feel threatened, and think she’s a giant whore-bag, and all I’d want to do is kick that mom in the vagina for showing me up, because who does she think she is? I bet her diaper wipe concoction has made it’s way to her kids’ brain through their anus and now they’re crazed-psychopaths.
But something lately has switched in me. I’ve learned that my way isn’t always the best way, and *GASP* other people can do it differently, and everything will be okay in the end.
With the birth of Hudson, I’ve learned to trust my inner mommy more. I’ve leaned less on books, and more on what I think is best.
Maybe I lacked confidence before, and that’s why I was so judgy and got so threatened when other moms did it different than me. But now I really don’t care if my friend wants to exclusively bottle feed her newborn, or that my neighbor is planning on potty training her 13 month old, or that my other friend lets her son sleep in the swing all day long. Because it really. doesn’t. matter. We’re all in this together, and instead of being a raunchy bitch, it’s so much nicer to be supportive.
Can I get a kumbaya?
I just do what works for us, and I’m completely fine with telling other judgy moms to F-off. But after that I’d offer them a compassionate hug, and tell them I was once a judgy know-it-all too.