Mumsaid judge not lest ye be judged...or something like that
"I am a terrible mother."
So very many of us mom-people freak out all to often and actually believe this statement.
Until the Supermommies strike and piss us off.
And here's how it happened:
Pattergirl had a snotty nose, the tail end of what was a couple of weeks of germy HELL in my house, and was going out in public, which included playing with Other People's Children. I called Pattergirl over so I could give her some decongestant. As my little blonde-haired, blue-eyed, pigtailed Pattergirl bounced over to me, this "Person-I-Once-Liked-turned-Supermommy" looked at me with horror...the scene changed to a dramatic slow-motion...while I squirted what I thought was a relatively "safe" OTC cold remedy into my little girl's mouth...end of slow motion...and Supermommy began her interrogation.
SM: "Did you ask your pediatrician before you gave her that?"
Me: "No. The dosage on the bottle for ages four to six says 2 teaspoons...she would fit into the 'ages two to four' bracket...but that doesn't exist so I halved the dose, which would be one teaspoon but is actually less than one teaspoon because of what remains in the squirter."
And I accidentally put the medicine dropper back into the bottle instead of putting on the cap, thus contaminating the medicine with GERMS. Strike two.
Me, babbling incessantly due to my nervousness about the obviously judgemental Supermommy: "I bought this stuff because the nasal spray works so well...and there isn't any aspartame, coloring, or other junk...and I just wanted her to not put snot all over the toys...little ones can't really help it..."
Supermommy stared at me while her Mini-#2 sat on the floor, green slime oozing from her nostrils.
SM: "Well, we never gave [Mini-#1] that without asking her pediatrician first."
I carried on with my Nurse Mommy duties...wiping Pattergirl's nose, washing my hands, washing the offensive medicine dropper, putting the evidence back in our Old Navy backpack. I looked over at the designer diaper bag, designer blankie and designer change of clothes spilling out. Supermommy wanted to hotline me, I am certain.
Me: "My sister's a nurse, so I call her for everything like this...and I remember giving [Green Warrior] some medicine where the bottle says 'under two call the doctor' but just giving him half the dose."
Green Warrior is autistic. Supermommy is now convinced I caused that. If she only knew of the teratogens I poisoned him with while in utero.
Me: "And my aunt teaches nurses at MoBap...maybe Big John's...or something like that...there's a lot of that in my family...so I trust their judgement."
Supermommy made a mental note to never again go to MoBap or Big John's, no matter how dire the emergency.
SM: "Oh."
Just like that. "Oh." WTF does that mean? "Oh Jesus I can't believe you were allowed to take your baby home from the hospital" or "Oh so you know what you are doing" or "Oh I didn't know that" or "Oh I have nothing else to say because all I do is stare at you."
Supermommy asked if I knew of a highchair they could use to feed Mini-#2. I offered to go get her one, stating that it would be a good idea to have them in a more convenient place. Supermommy sent Good Husband to fetch a highchair. I joked about making sure he picked the clean one, because there is one that I wiped down a little extra for Pattergirl to use. I honestly thought that might be helpful. Supermommy takes an Avent sippy cup from the designer diaper bag.
I try to ease the tension of the situation by making polite conversation. My mistake.
Me: "Those are the same cups we use. Aren't they great? I saved some from [Green Warrior] because I liked them so much. Except the new valves are so much better than the old ones. You have to check the old ones for cruddies after you wash them because there are more nooks and crannies."
SM: "We had them with [Mini-#1], but I didn't save them. The new ones are BPA-free..."
I was now finished with the conversation. I could no longer be cordial with this woman. I went to play with my daughter and the other Little One and be Myself, a terrible mother.
So very many of us mom-people freak out all to often and actually believe this statement.
Until the Supermommies strike and piss us off.
And here's how it happened:
Pattergirl had a snotty nose, the tail end of what was a couple of weeks of germy HELL in my house, and was going out in public, which included playing with Other People's Children. I called Pattergirl over so I could give her some decongestant. As my little blonde-haired, blue-eyed, pigtailed Pattergirl bounced over to me, this "Person-I-Once-Liked-turned-Supermommy" looked at me with horror...the scene changed to a dramatic slow-motion...while I squirted what I thought was a relatively "safe" OTC cold remedy into my little girl's mouth...end of slow motion...and Supermommy began her interrogation.
SM: "Did you ask your pediatrician before you gave her that?"
Me: "No. The dosage on the bottle for ages four to six says 2 teaspoons...she would fit into the 'ages two to four' bracket...but that doesn't exist so I halved the dose, which would be one teaspoon but is actually less than one teaspoon because of what remains in the squirter."
And I accidentally put the medicine dropper back into the bottle instead of putting on the cap, thus contaminating the medicine with GERMS. Strike two.
Me, babbling incessantly due to my nervousness about the obviously judgemental Supermommy: "I bought this stuff because the nasal spray works so well...and there isn't any aspartame, coloring, or other junk...and I just wanted her to not put snot all over the toys...little ones can't really help it..."
Supermommy stared at me while her Mini-#2 sat on the floor, green slime oozing from her nostrils.
SM: "Well, we never gave [Mini-#1] that without asking her pediatrician first."
I carried on with my Nurse Mommy duties...wiping Pattergirl's nose, washing my hands, washing the offensive medicine dropper, putting the evidence back in our Old Navy backpack. I looked over at the designer diaper bag, designer blankie and designer change of clothes spilling out. Supermommy wanted to hotline me, I am certain.
Me: "My sister's a nurse, so I call her for everything like this...and I remember giving [Green Warrior] some medicine where the bottle says 'under two call the doctor' but just giving him half the dose."
Green Warrior is autistic. Supermommy is now convinced I caused that. If she only knew of the teratogens I poisoned him with while in utero.
Me: "And my aunt teaches nurses at MoBap...maybe Big John's...or something like that...there's a lot of that in my family...so I trust their judgement."
Supermommy made a mental note to never again go to MoBap or Big John's, no matter how dire the emergency.
SM: "Oh."
Just like that. "Oh." WTF does that mean? "Oh Jesus I can't believe you were allowed to take your baby home from the hospital" or "Oh so you know what you are doing" or "Oh I didn't know that" or "Oh I have nothing else to say because all I do is stare at you."
Supermommy asked if I knew of a highchair they could use to feed Mini-#2. I offered to go get her one, stating that it would be a good idea to have them in a more convenient place. Supermommy sent Good Husband to fetch a highchair. I joked about making sure he picked the clean one, because there is one that I wiped down a little extra for Pattergirl to use. I honestly thought that might be helpful. Supermommy takes an Avent sippy cup from the designer diaper bag.
I try to ease the tension of the situation by making polite conversation. My mistake.
Me: "Those are the same cups we use. Aren't they great? I saved some from [Green Warrior] because I liked them so much. Except the new valves are so much better than the old ones. You have to check the old ones for cruddies after you wash them because there are more nooks and crannies."
SM: "We had them with [Mini-#1], but I didn't save them. The new ones are BPA-free..."
I was now finished with the conversation. I could no longer be cordial with this woman. I went to play with my daughter and the other Little One and be Myself, a terrible mother.
Edited to protect those around me? Edited to protect myself from potential drama? Hmm...aha! Edited because I love those kids, no matter what dumb stuff the grownups do.
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