I try not to judge other parents. Really. I try not to. I know a lot of my parenting choices are outside of the mainstream and judged so I try to not give that back. I do, however, admit that I judged the HELL out of some moms on Mother’s Day.

Mom at bunch – you told your eight year old to “sit (his) ass back down in the seat!” when he got up to throw away some garbage. You didn’t just slip up and curse around your kid. It wasn’t an “Oh, shit!” when he spilled his milk. You cussed directly AT him. And you did it in the middle of a crowded restaurant. On Mother’s Day. I judged you.

Missing mother of the 10 year old girl who’s jean skirt was so short I could see her undies at the park – your 10 year old girl’s jean skirt was so short I could see her undies. I judged you.

Missing mother of the boy who hit my daughter in the head with his bouncy ball at the park … twice – YOUR KID HIT MY KID IN THE HEAD WITH A BALL!!! TWICE! And you weren’t even there! I majorly judged you. I also judged your kid for being a big ol’ meanie, which in turn made me judge you again, for letting your kid be so mean.

I judged you all. It’s true. Watch your language, buy your daughter age appropriate clothing, and actually be PRESENT when your son is playing. Especially when he’s playing with toys that could hurt other, much smaller, children. Or else I’ll continue to judge. And blog about you. A lot.