On Moms

Do you ever remember what you used to think of moms, back before you were one?

I do.

I have vivid memories of being a judgy biatch. Being at a restaurant or a store and thinking, “God, keep an eye on your kids lady!”, or “Oh my god, that kid has no shoes on! What is wrong with that mom?”, or “Who screams in public like that!?”

I am so sorry.

When I was in my early 20’s, I babysat for a family that lived nearby. They had two boys, a 4-year-old, and an 8 month old. The mom was at home with the kids and the dad worked long hours as a lawyer. The mom was part of some sort of moms’ group that had meetings once a week at 5 or 6, and I would always come over to sit for them while she went to the meetings. A few times, I would show up around 4:30 or 5 and she would still be in her pajamas, and the kids would literally be owning her ass; one climbing the stairs unattended while the other raided the fridge. Her face when I showed up was always the same. She glowed.

In my head I was always thinking, “What a mess. Get it together lady!”

They had moved from D.C. months before I started sitting for them, and in the year I worked for them I never saw their house completely unpacked. I remember mentioning this to Andrew, and saying “Can you imagine? There are boxes everywhere!”

Total B.

I am so sorry.

Now, I understand why you couldn’t get out of your pajamas until 5 PM, and frankly I applaud you for not just sleeping in clothes that could pass for everyday clothes so that you don’t have to change at all.

So again, on behalf of all the twenty-something, Judgy McJudgersons who don’t get it yet. I am sorry.

Happy Mother’s Day Moms.

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