Look at my neglected children crying themselves to sleep...
Look at my neglected children crying themselves to sleep…

My words to the Dear Judgie Mc judgies pant’s,

Today as I walked through the shopping center my two naughty spawn ran ahead of me, it had been a rough morning with them and I had given up on telling them off, so as they do they ran 2 meters or more ahead of me (I could see them but the judgies didn’t know), they didn’t hurt anyone, you know? Some people even smiled at them giggling because they were enjoying themselves! They could see them, I could see them… I could also see thier faces judging their mother (where ever that stupid woman was), that was actually me. Me; you see, I’ve been having a tough time lately, but they didn’t know. They don’t know that having them run ahead of me is actually easier and less stressful for me, because at their age they just don’t listen, they are children after all, they like to run. They also like to scream, which would they rather, do you think? They also didn’t know both my smaller spawn are both actually going through a rough patch of development which means they are unpredictable and always as cranky as a smoker with and no cigarettes and I am at my wits end with them.

Can you please not judge me?

The article I shamelessly wrote recently about the horrific and shameful things I have been known to do as a parent? I don’t do those things all the time but I was judged by other mothers behind their keyboards on the food choices I made for them on one particular day and it was implied that I shouldn’t breed for the sake of it. They didn’t know that I can I bet that they do those things sometimes too. Sometimes they have a busy and shithouse day and decide their kids can just have Maccas for tea, right? Or that they’ll skip brushing their teeth just for one night because they fell asleep in the car on their way home and are too cranky to even have them contemplate brushing their teeth? Right?

Can you please not judge me?

I’m sometimes that mum walking through the store with the blankest of blank stares on my face as one of my children dawdles behind me, then way in front of me after I’ve called to them 100 times to try keep up or slow down as i drag the other one screaming teddy-bear-murder through Big W yet again. I am the mum giving my child a cookie at 10:30 at the shops so I can enjoy a coffee with my best friend ‘Caramel’.

 The things they don’t see. They refuse to see.They can’t possibly see, they fall down around me, when I try to hold that up with my little arms is sometimes not enough and the family/kids/home roof does occasionally come falling down. And they don’t know how bad that makes me feel.

Please don’t judge me.

Should they really imply that I don’t try at all? That I am not a good mother? That I am irresponsible because of the few things I write about? That they never do these things? They have never done these things?

When did parenting have such strict 24/7 policy that we are never allowed to break? When has there ever only been one way? Their way to parent (or in my case not parent)? When did people begin thinking they can push their beliefs on how to parent on others? When did it become ok to shame a parent that is trying as hard as the can to get through, even if it means for a day they all eat crap food or the watch TV all day or that they spend more time occupying themselves that day?

They never do that?


Now; do not get me wrong, I judge too, I judge people A LOT. I judge the woman at Kmart or at the school in the afternoon that smells like she just downed 4 glasses of cheap goon in the parking lot and the mum with scabs all over her and screaming at her children all while pushing her kids around in the pram in rags. I judge the mother smoking with her kids in the car, I judge the parents that think its ok to feed their obese kids Maccas because to be honest sometimes i’m a right bitch too and i can judge them just as good as the next person. The difference is that I keep it to myself, or i lean on over and talk to the Best-Friend-Forever that i have sitting with me at that time and i can tell is thinking the same thing as me but the difference again is that I would NEVER EVER say anything to them directly because we are all human beings and we do not know what they have been through to get them where they are. That is not my call, that is not my right.
I do not know their story, they do not know mine. So time to back the eff off hey?

Dear unfair Judgie McJudgie pants’s.

I have PTSD and sometimes worry that i’ll have flashbacks when i’m being massaged by my Batman, I have bouts of anxiety that ruin whole days or weeks at a time in times that are actually supposed to be the best days of my life, I have depressed days were i feel like death might be easier. They don’t know this when they see me walking around with my beautiful  incredibly loved spawn.

But today they didn’t know that despite my sheer hatred for the tantruming my children did at the shops this morning; I made them trains from old egg cartons with matching train stations, i showed them how to colour them in with the new crayons i got them at the shops, I fed them a food platter with fruits and cheese and crackers for lunch because I know how much they love them, I cuddled with them both at 5am in my bed even though I prefer to sleep alone. I loved them today when one of them held their arms up crying for me, when all I wanted to do was curl up and cry. I loved them when they woke me up for a drink at 3am, I sat on my daughter’s bed and watched her be a restless mess in her sleep,  adored her and most importantly, I loved them all the times you didn’t.

So hey, stop judging the real mums that write about their lives to keep them sane, stop judging the mums at the shops for dragging their kids through the store that day with a batshit crazy-i’ll-stab-you-in-the-face with this mobile-phone look on their face or for finally having enough and snapping at them like a hungry turtle because someone crushed the bread in the trolley again. Stop judging us because for the love of a good fight i will smash those comments into the ground.  Stop judging us because one day you will slip up and you won’t be the perfect parent you think you are and we (us less than perfect parents) will be there for you because that’s what us mums should do.

Yes they love their kids, but so do I exactly the same as they do. We are all the same…. (except that drunk and high one in Kmart, she’s a little confused and possibly needs a bit of coffee with some friends…)

So hey Judgies, we’re all figuring this out as we go along and if you think that you have all the answers and a secret map to parenting success, then you are setting yourself up for a very rude shock that you’ll never see coming.

It’s time to just shut the fark up.


12 thoughts

  1. Amen! Even the mothers who are clearly effing up (like the ones who smoke with their kids in the car–and I say that *as* a smoker who would never expose my child to smoke)–I wish we could just help them instead of judging them. I would happily hold a kid so a bitch can get her nicotine.

    Liked by 1 person

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