Love this post from MBL writer, Lauren. I don’t have as fancy a car or bag as she, but I also feel that limbo, not normal enough for the normal moms, not crunchy enough for the crunchy moms. -Stephanie 🙂
Motherhood has brought so much joy to my life. I am happier than I ever thought possible despite the lack of sleep, frankly the lack of time, and the ever present and joyful constant guilt. For my gorgeous boy, I will take it all and more.
But there is something I could do without, something I feel is so unproductive, and unnecessary…. the judgmental mamas.
You see, for reasons I can not quite grab a hold of, I find that since motherhood I just don’t quite fit in, and the feeling of being judged sometimes can be worse than what I assume people felt in high school. This is a problem I never really had before. I was in general “liked” and found making friends easy, until now.
Then came baby, and my instincts led me to a parenting style not so mainstream. I am talking extended nursing, cosleeping, babywearing, and cloth diapering, oh my!
But, wait! I don’t wear clothing made of hemp, and I don’t make everything I put into my mouth by scratch, and I use time outs … dunh dunh!! And let’s be real here, shall we? I like nice things, I drive a rather fancy car, I carry a ridiculously expensive and sometimes embarrassing bag, and find myself in need of stupid expensive ballet flats. I can’t help it, I like nice things and I am sure there is some underlying reason why I do, like being poor as a child, or something unresolved from a past life, who knows, and I can afford these luxuries now and so I do.
So there I am, smack dab in the middle. I’m way too crunchy to hang with the “normal” moms since they look at ya a little nuts when you pull out your boob to nurse your toddler and wonder quietly why his butt looks so ginormous (from a cloth diaper of course).
But the real crunchies don’t really welcome me either, maybe it’s the car, the bag, or the fact that I brought real goldfish to music time that I didn’t make homemade, or that I just put my kid in time out after a hitting episode and may or may not have said “you’re in time out for hitting, DON’T MOVE!”
I don’t ever judge parenting choices (except the obvious abusive, neglectful ones), ok well maybe I do a little in my head, but never would I allow somebody to feel judged for choices that are theirs to make. I am going to screw up my kid in my own ways and you are free to screw up your kid in your ways. There is no perfect formula for perfect human production.
You’re a mom and I am a mom, and it’s really freaking hard. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could commiserate together and you could give me some “non judgemental” advice about how to get a picky eater to eat, and I could give you some tips on ummmmm…. hold on I’ve got something good to offer………. oh ok, got it, tips on how to side nurse.
Wouldn’t that be nice because guess what I am pretty fun, almost always willing to indulge in a cupcake, and will be there if you need me. But you have to give me a chance and not judge the book by her milk-filled jugs or her very cluttered, huge Louis Vuitton.