Confession: I used to be a critical parent. I thought I had all the answers when it came to raising kids. I even judged my own mother for her choice to switch to formula after a grueling month of breastfeeding struggles. I criticized other moms from the 1980s for using soy formula, convinced it would lead to a host of bizarre health issues. I held my mother accountable for embracing disposable diapers when they first hit the market.
That’s how deeply entrenched my judgment was—I didn’t just reserve my critiques for my contemporaries; I reached back through time. I was unbearable.
Looking back, I can see that formula didn’t harm me, and I certainly didn’t cause catastrophic environmental damage with my disposables—at least not significantly. But I was so quick to judge because, as a pregnant woman, I thought I had it all figured out.
Then I had my first child, and my delusions of parental wisdom only grew. You, carrying that baby in an infant carrier? I raised an eyebrow at you for not using a baby wrap. After all, I believed your choice left your baby under-stimulated and unhappy. I would walk by, baby in tow, relishing our snug moments while you struggled with your extra gear. And heaven forbid you placed that carrier on top of the shopping cart—danger was lurking! I might have felt compelled to approach you and offer unsolicited advice about proper car seat placement while nursing my own baby, likely exposing my chest in the process.
Looking back, it’s clear I was insufferable.
When it came to breastfeeding, I thought I was an expert. I could rattle off the benefits of breast milk like a seasoned pro. I knew all the holds, even the side-lying ones. If your baby wouldn’t latch? It was definitely a tongue tie, and you should spend hundreds to fix it—because who wouldn’t want to ensure their child’s health and dating prospects? If you needed to pump? Oh, I had all the solutions—different pumps, better routines, more privacy, essential oils, and yes, amber necklaces. I know you want to reach through the screen and punch me; honestly, I want to go back and smack myself too.
And let’s talk about my cloth diaper obsession. I was staunchly convinced that cloth was the only way to go. Sure, I could argue that they produced less waste (a debatable point), but I also believed they were adorable and safer for my child’s health. I was confident that my kids would appreciate me for keeping their reproductive organs free from harmful chemicals.
But life has a way of humbling you. After two more kids, I realized how naive I had been. When your ego is that high, it’s a long fall to reality—and I fell hard. I met mothers facing real challenges, like back problems that made baby carriers impossible to use. I became friends with a mom who couldn’t produce milk at all. My fantastic pediatrician struggled with her own pumping issues, and it was eye-opening to witness her struggles firsthand. As my children grew older, I found it increasingly difficult to pump as well. My husband suggested we switch to disposable Pull-Ups for our son, which seemed like a practical choice. I even learned to love disposable wipes for their efficiency in cleaning up everything from messes to snacks.
Somewhere along the way, the judgment faded. I replaced it with reality, empathy, and understanding. I no longer give disapproving looks to moms in the store. Why would I? It only spreads negativity. Instead, I smile and teach my children to do the same. That mother with her carrier on top of the cart doesn’t need a stranger approaching her with unsolicited advice.
As I’ve matured, I’ve come to understand that I don’t have all the answers. I can’t possibly know the struggles of other mothers; I can only speak to my own experiences. Parenting can be tough, and all I can offer is kindness—a wave, a smile, or a shared joke about the universal experience of parenthood. “At least we’re not covered in poop right now, right?” And we both laugh because poop is a common bond, unlike the harshness of judgment.
I’m grateful for the growth I’ve experienced.
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Summary
The author reflects on their past judgmental attitudes towards parenting choices, acknowledging their growth and understanding of the diverse challenges faced by other parents. The journey from criticism to empathy highlights the importance of kindness and shared experiences in the parenting community.