Judger

I hate to admit it, but I used to be a judger. You know, one of those people that give you "the look" when you're in the grocery store and your kid is chucking things off of the shelves. I was one of THOSE people. Isn't it funny how easy it is to judge when you're not in it? I am working on the judging. I think I have made progress, because now when I am in a store and I hear a kid screaming, I don't think about how horrible the parents must be, I think about how sorry I feel for the parents. I've been there. I get it.

Not that long ago, I was shopping in Target with both of my girls. Lola is in that stage where she doesn't want to ride in the cart, she wants to be everywhere. Sometimes I let her, and I just ignore the fact that she is destroying the store, because the blissfulness of being in a Target will do that to you. But on this particular day, I was not captivated by the blissfulness, I was annoyed by the exuberance of my 3 year old. I did something to make her really mad, and when Lola gets mad, Greta gets mad too. (must be a sister thing) So they were both in total meltdown mode and I was considering just leaving them, the cart, and my sanity in aisle 5. I ended up heaving Lola into the cart, finding a quiet boring corner of the store and just waiting it out. After about 10 minutes they had tuckered themselves out with all the screaming and flailing, and they were silent. I pushed my cart into the check out lane and piled my items on the belt. "Oh" says the check out lady, "Good Job Mom! You're children are so quiet and well behaved! Look at how they are just sitting there in the cart like good little girls!" She gives them both a sticker and tells them they are the best behaving children ever. In my head I am working out how to explain that the lady would never have given them stickers if she knew what nightmares they had been just minutes before. Then she says "There were some children that were screaming in the toy aisle a few minutes ago, I bet you girls never do that!" She pats Lola on the head and I push my cart to the exit with a loopy grin plastered on my face. Seriously. That just happened.

On the way home, Lola is chatting to me about the horror that we just experienced. She gibbers away a recap of the events. "And then Mommy said "that's enough!" and then Greta yelled "No!" and started kicking and then I ran away and hid in a clothes rack and Mommy said she was leaving without me, and I didn't want to live in Target so I cried and then Greta cried and then a lady gave me a sticker, cuz I'm a good girl! Mommy can we do some more shopping? I didn't get a treat"

So anyway.. I am working on not being a judger, and my children are helping. A lot.