Parenting Rule Number 1

Parenting Rule Number   1 is that you never, ever, ever insult or criticize another parent’s parenting.  Addendum to the above rule: you never insult or criticize another parent’s parenting to said parent.  Whatever you say to your spouse in the darkness and joy of a child-sleeping household before you drift off into a coma is completely okay.  It’s an unspoken parenting law, because once it’s broken, you can never come back; there is no restitution.

While on the phone with my husband last fall, the person on the other end of the line criticized my parenting.  It was in the general context of a much larger argument, and the person used my parenting as ammunition to strengthen their (I know, plural pronoun, but we have no gender neutral singular in English) argument.  It had the adverse effect, essentially forever ruining whatever was left of our jalopy of a relationship (it was terse long before this incident, but insulting the way I raise my children was a surefire way to lose any goodwill I had left).  My husband and I were both very insulted, not because we believed what the person had said was true (I’m a fucking awesome mom, thank you very much), but because the person had crossed a very important invisible line and neglected to see why it was so damaging.  The person still believes that we are in the wrong (and they still believe that it’s okay to say whatever they want).

One of the hallmarks of adulthood is learning to shut your mouth.  This is a lesson that my husband has really learned the hard way.  From insulting friends, to yelling at me and having to pay for it in very expensive gifts, his foot in mouth disease is legendary (all of his college friends call him “that asshole,” many of whom were shocked when they met me-I was nice and socially appropriate, and he was “Warren, that asshole.” Oddly enough, the moniker was relayed to me at a shiva call, where the person actually sitting shiva, one of Warren’s fraternity brothers, was part of the asshole discussion, laughing and stressing the depths of Warren’s jerkitude. Warren had previously, and while in my presence, seriously insulted the fraternity brother’s wife. I like to think my husband’s former asshole-y-ness helped to comfort the bereaved.  Oh, and we’re all actually very good friends, too).  I have a touch of foot in mouth, not in the asshole capacity, but just a general disregard for meaningless small talk and a penchant for jokes that other people don’t usually get.  It can come off as awkward, when really it’s just me not enjoying being around large groups of people.  I’m much better one-on-one.  The point is, however, that my husband, my wonderful, loving husband who has about as much social grace as a pack of elephants transporting crystal stemware through the streets of New York City, even he knew that it was wrong to criticize another parent’s parenting.

Maybe it’s also part of adulthood to call people out on their crap and defend yourself from wild accusations.  My adulthood includes turning off and simply excusing myself from events and occasions where I’m forced to socialize with people who don’t approve of my parenting, whether family, friend or foe.  Because, and I’ll say it again, I’m a fucking awesome mom.  And you know what?  You are too.

Margot at 12 weeks, loving on her awesome mom!