cheetos for breakfast

I'm in rehab. For judgyness. Now, I've held court on this subject before. And I still basically believe what I wrote then - that we all judge, it's human nature, and perhaps even an essential part of our social interaction. If you claim you never judge, I'm gonna call shenanigans on that shit. But it's how you react (or don't react) to that initial kernel of judgment that really matters. (Kernel of judgment? Seed of judgment? How about judge-nugget? That has a nice ring to it ;)) Lately, in light of my personal "mommitment" not take part in the "Mommy Wars," I've been making a concerted effort to curb my knee-jerk judgyness. We don't have to be BFFs or anything. But I pledge to give you the space and respect to do your thang.

So, for you, a short list of things I have, in the past, been judgy about, and my new and improved attitude on these matters:

* Feeding kids Cheetos for breakfast. Hey. At least you fed them breakfast. Bottom line: I got your back when it comes to orange cheese dust.

* Letting little tiny girls wear high heels. You know what? They're wearing two matching shoes which is more than I can say for my own progeny this morning. Mad props.

* Moms who look perfect all the time? Good on ya. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little envious, though. Please, show me the magic of your ways. Sprinkle some of that glittering unicorn juice on your less-fortunate, saggy-sweatpant-clad mommy brethren.

* In that same vein, moms who are dressed like they’re going clubbing at soccer practice at 9am on a Saturday morning. More power to you. If my gams looked like that in a mini skirt, I might just rock one too.

* Grannies who dress like they're going clubbing. In Tijuana. I'm just kidding. I never judged these people. I want to adopt them, until I'm old enough to be them. I cannot wait to be idontgiveafuck-years old.

* People who have botoxed the shit out of their face and thus look like Apathy Barbie at all times. Hey girlfriend. If YOU feel pretty, then more power to you. I myself have a couple strategically placed sacks of silicone and they don't look too shabby in a bikini, if I may say so myself. So I won't judge.

* Smoking pot while pregnant or breastfeeding. Better than crack, right? Crack is whack. And according to Bob Sagget, "Marijuana is not a drug." A couple people have even assured me their doctors told them to do it. I am curious about these "doctors," I wonder if their medical credentials are from the same university as my own (a.k.a. Google U). Still. We all have to do a careful balancing act between "the shoulds" and our sanity. And I'm not going to put my thumb on your scale.

* Speaking of sanity and "shoulds" - parents that let their kid have a pacifier until he's in, like, 6th grade. Listen. Whatever you need to do, my friend. I sucked my thumb (aka human pacifier) well beyond a socially acceptable age. My parents even sent me to some kooky "specialist" that taped my thumb into a splint, covered it in cayenne, and made paper cranes to watch over me at night (and peck me to death with their origami beaks if I caved? I don't know. No wonder I'm fucking terrified of birds). Anyway, I guarantee they're not going to go to college with it. Probably not even high school. Though I will warn you, what you save in drama now, you will repay in orthodontist fees tenfold.

* I used to assume that people with lots of children (and by lots I mean more than two), were Mormon, Catholic, and/or slightly insane. I would look and them and think, Um, pardon me, but, may I provide you with a quick tutorial on how babies are made? However, I have dear cousins and a best friend with passels of kids, and they're mostly normal ;) And anyway, why do I care??? It's not me birthing yet another baby through my already tattered vagina, enduring double the laundry, or paying four college tuitions! Lately, I think of it like this: you're doing your part to populate the Earth with wonderful little people to help counteract all the yuck in the world. How can that be a bad thing?! (I just hope someone figures out how to power cars with our husbands' farts and sanitize our urine into potable water before the Earth reaches its carrying capacity and spontaneously combusts. Yes. Concerns like this literally keep me up at night.)

* Those crafty bitches who treat a three year old birthday party with more pomp and circumstance than your wedding day, with themed and color-coordinated snacks, desserts, kid crafts, and those god. damn. goody bags. You perfect pinterest princesses are a pain in my… Oh.. wait… I’m one of those Bs. Nevermind ;)

* People who give their kids weird-ass names. Guilty as charged. Your kids are allowed to hate you. But I don't.

* I used to say (before I actually had children, of course) "I could never be one of those moms who gets a nanny and then goes out to get coffee and a mani/pedi." Well, obviously I was smokin' the whack-crack because you, madam, are a goddamn genius. Hook a sister up. My new goal in life is to find a sugar daddy. Or a sister wife. Preferably both.

* I remember thinking along the same lines when my mother-in-law said she was basically raised by her live-in-nanny, more of a governess really, and she and her sisters only saw their mother for a short while each day while they were on their best behavior. I was like, aw, that's so sad. Ummm, sad for WHOM? The kids? Possibly, but they seemed pretty stoked on their nanny (along with their cook, driver, laundress, gardener, and personal shopper). And they still loved their mom and knew her as such. Now I think Moms had the right idea. I would be SUCH a good mom if I only had to deal with the happy parts of parenting, and could skip over all the bullshit like laundry, cleaning, shopping, cooking, and getting them to eat, brush their teeth, and go the F to sleep.

* Women who pontificate on the pleasure of an at-home bathtub birth with nothing but patchouli and prayers to the Goddess of Unimaginable Physical Pain to get you through. And on the other end of the spectrum, women who schedule their C-sections between conference calls. Hey. You made a human being, right? And brought it into the world? And have managed thus far to keep it alive and fed and clothed and more or less happy by generally accepted industry standards? Then you, mama, deserve a fucking medal.

* People who take Segway tours around the city..... I’m trying really hard here. Just… just give me a minute. Okay. You're tourists, right? Cool. Sally forth on your Segways.

* People who "vape." I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that not knowingly giving yourself cancer trumps looking like a total toolbox. Go you.

* People who take selfies with iPads or Selfie Sticks. I admire your...um, self confidence. Carry on.

* Same for people who run/workout with an iPad mini, er, I mean, an iPhone 6 XL, strapped to their bicep. Right on. Now, if you need to make an emergency spreadsheet or send a TPS report mid-workout, you've got that shit covered.

* People who drive minivans. Hey, they even come with extra-large climate-controlled cup-holders to hold your dignity. I kid. I kid. I'm not gonna lie. The idea still horrifies me. But really on the long list of shameful things you do for motherhood, minivans are a minor, as well as luxurious and convenient (headrest screens and automatic sliding doors whaaaat), offense.

* People who cannot park a car between the f*cking lines. I should be more sympathetic because I am an astoundingly bad parker. Honestly, I hit a parked car once twice. I am just the worst. But, dammit, I will do a 397-point turn rather than park like an A-hole. Still. I'll cut you a break. Just like I do when I'm on the freeway and someone is driving like a twat-waffle, I imagine that they're my grandma or grandpa, and then I just want to give them a big hug instead of going Monster Truck on their ass.

But, I will still give mad side-eye to the following:

- People who do not like children, yet work with children.

- People who are mean to wait staff and retail employees.

- People who do not know how to read traffic signals before they jaywalk.

- People who don't know the difference between "your" and "you're," and "their" and "they're" (and "there!")

- People who try to use religion as an excuse not to support equal rights. (I apologize for "going there," but I "can't even.")

Maybe acceptance of these categories is further down in my twelve-step-program. We shall see.

May I interest you in some fresh-picked, organic produce? Remember, baby eats what you eat. 

Bitch, please. Hand over the good stuff.