I Judge You

That’s right. I judge you. I’m not usually a judgemental person, or so I like to think.  But since O came along I judge people.  Okay, mostly other mothers (and sometimes, even other kids). This was not one of the side effects, like postpartum depression.  I didn’t read about this in a book.  There was no chapter in What to Expect the First Year describing how you would become this know-it-all mother.  But here is the truth:

I judge the mothers based on the strollers they are pushing.  O has a Bugaboo, and so I feel superior in the mother ranking in my neighborhood.  The Bugaboo is the over all neighborhood favorite.  Other brands that get the stamp of approval are Peg Perego Skate , Stokke Xplory, Orbit Infant System and Quinny (basically any stroller set that comes with a bassinet).  And I am not the only one in the stroller judgment.  Walking around SoHo, even DH has admitted that he too judged the other parents on their stroller choices.   It is irrelevant that as a baby I was pushed around in what was a little less than lock-jaw waiting to happen, but it was the highest quality and the trendiest in lock-jaw making capacity!

I judge the mothers on the subway who have their iPods on as their kids/babies are talking/crying.  Seriously, you can’t even pretend?

I judge the kids who are screaming at their grandmothers on the subway.  I saw this one time.  The kid was out of control, running up and down the crowded subway car, and at one point he started hitting his grandmother.  This stranger got up, went up to the kid, and told him to behave himself.  I judge that man too (but in a good way).

I judge mothers who do not go get their hair cut, or pedicure.

I judge the mothers at Whole Foods who are shopping for organic foods with their kids… during my lunchtime, and think “BITCH! You can afford to stay home with your kid.”

I judge the parents who dress their kids in ridiculous un-matching outfits, and think, why would you send your kid out into the world with a blue dress and brown and pink hat.  Oh wait, that was O’s outfit the other day. I guess I would judge myself pretty harshly.


About RidgewoodMom

Thirtysomething mom of a baby girl. First and only baby, possibly. First baby amongst my close friends. These are the trials, frustrations and lessons I have learned in raising a single child in New York.
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3 Responses to I Judge You

  1. f*rtigova says:

    yay! i get to be your first comment!!!

    ok, let me just put this out there: i am not a fan of matchy matchy. i like to mix things up. unmatched babies please me. you need not succumb to the pressure of the one who shall remain nameless when it comes to matching outfits. except of course when o. is wearing the one who shall remain nameless’s presents. in that case it’s respectful to abide by her wishes that the dress matches the socks matches the shoes matches the hat matches the pacifier matches the bugaboo matches your outfit etc.

  2. Kash says:

    “the one who shall remain nameless?” You mean “everyone else”?

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