We All Judge

In my lists of shared blogs (on this site in the gutter), I shared a link to an article about parents judging other parents. It's not important that you read the link. (I'm too lazy to ever read links; I just cannot expect from my loyal readers something I don't expect from myself.) But I do agree with the author about judging other parents.

In essence, she says that judging is something all parents do. I do, I do!!! {waves hand in air} I totally judge parents whose kids run wild in public places. I judge parents who defend their kids when they know their kids are doing wrong. I judge parents who think their kids' wants (not needs) are top priority, even to the point of being rude to others. I judge parents who disenfrachise dads. (I try to keep in mind, while judging, that this might be a one-time thing. For example, Office Depot once pissed my sister off by not sendiing a very important package she had paid them to deliver, and after bad customer service, she brought her toddler and preschooler to the store and let them run wild on the desk chairs. Really funny. :) If I didn't know the story, I'd judge. Instead, I appreciate the justice. I also don't share my judgment with that parent. Parents have enough stress, even if they are mucking everything up.)

The author also talks about how there are some things she tries desperately not to judge - like how parents feed their kids or give birth. I agree. Want to schedule a c-section at 37 weeks? You won't see me doing that without a good medical reason (and there are few good medical reasons at 37 weeks), but you won't see me lecturing the mommy about the risks, either. Think breastfeeding is just gross and won't consider it? I think breastfeeding is good for babies. But what you'll hear from me is "you have to do what works for you and your family."

Why the difference?

Frankly, your c-section or breastfeeding or other medically-related decisions are entitled a higher respect for your privacy. It's so important that the right is implicitly in our constitution. It's important to me to respect whatever decisions parents make regarding nurishment (sp?) and hospitals, in part because I expect my decisions respected. You don't like I strict I am with Ander? So what. Shrug. That's an opinion and you really cannot change my behavior. You don't like that I gave him formula? Well, that's a big deal. You might lobby the government to outlaw formula. My child would have died without it. That's just a bigger deal. People's medical decisions are sacrosanct. (sp? again...sigh) You'd better not touch those, or I'll be up in arms, fighting for WHICHEVER side needs it. I don't believe home birth should be chosen, but you can bet your arse that I'd represent (for a reasonable fee, of course...a girl's gotta eat) someone suing for her right to a home birth. My opinion (anti-home birthing) is not a judgment. It doesn't carry the weight and consequences of a judgment. It's an opinion. That is all. I'd still fight for your right to do it.

IMHO, that's the difference.

To go over the rules I *try* to live by:
1. I don't judge medical decisions, even where I have an opinion.
2. I do judge parents raising their kids in a way I don't approve of. I still don't act on those judgments, because it's still not my business.

Are these too vague? Too mushy? Don't quite make sense. Ah, well. Shrug. Probably.

Now tell your kid not to bring that book, sit on my (random stranger) lap at the bookstore, and read the book to me. I don't like touching strange kids. You need to tell your child not to touch strangers. I need to watch me own child, and can't do that with your little hellion (sp? {rolls eyes at self})on my lap. Crazy, weird lady with a crazy, weird child...(Don't worry, loyal readers, the lady I am judging, a real person, is not reading this blog. ;))

Etcetera.

How Sweet

I was assigned to a pretty tough juvenile case recently. It's not that the kid did anything so terrible, but he was kicked out of school, so there was no place to put him but jail. Sigh. Can I say Louisiana needs to work on it's juvenile justice system? Anyway, I worked out something that I knew the assistant DA, the judge, the kid, and the parents would be happy with. Yesterday, we heard the case. Everything went well and everyone left satisfied, including the kid and the victim (which is, of course, important).

The kid's mom just dropped by my office with flowers for me. :) That was so touching!

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This Morning...

The jury trial should go away. If so, I can actually get work done the rest of the week. About time.

I have to see a maternal-fetal specialist. That's where I get my big sonogram. They have limited appointments, and Alan can only go to appointments on Friday mornings, so he likely won't be able to go to the sonogram. He takes off whenever he can, but he's in charge of things going on with the legislature. It sucks, especially for him. (As long as everything goes right, it's okay for me. Not great, but I'll survive.)

Etcetera.

Sex Ed

I've vigorously started teaching Ander about his body parts, and mommy's body parts, and the difference between boys and girls. We use the real names, but use of nicknames is acceptable in my home, too. For now, if he says "penis" randomly and in public, I'll just laugh. Eventually, I'll teach him that conversations about private parts are saved for appropriate times and places. (Okay in sex ed class or asking mommy a question, but not okay with your classmate at school.)

Alan seems to be dealing with the names of body parts okay.

But, whoa, he freaks out when mommy tells Ander what the parts do. :) I explained that Ander gets his milk from the frig, but babies get milk from a bottle or mommy's boobies. (I taught breasts, too, but Ander uses the word boobies for whatever reason.) Ander asked if daddy had a baby. No, only girls can have a baby, and only after they are grown-ups. (I know there are exceptions, but he's just not ready to appreciate them, yet.) But daddies don't have babies?

So I answered, honestly. Only mommies can have a baby. But boys have a penis. A penis can be used to pee pee, or, when you are grown up, to help a mommy make a baby.

I don't think he understands that yet, of course. But it's true, and a fair thing to say.

Alan thinks I tell him too much. (He doesn't think it so hard that he argues or stops me. Instead, he just rolls his eyes.)

I always wonder why more parents don't just tell their kids the truth about body parts and what they do. I hope, of course, that it's many, many years before Ander uses his parts for anything other than pee pee. (But if the pee pee gods could please intervene and make him want to pee pee in the toilet, the intervention would be much appreciated. Thanks so much, pee pee gods.) But I don't see how keeping the fact that penises are involved in baby-making helps him. After all, should he hear it for the first time from his fifth-grade classmate? Or not hear it at all, and accidentally make a baby? Or, the worse scenario I can imagine, think that daddies have no role in making their babies? No, that would be wrong.

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I Can Hope

I have a jury trial on Wednesday. I hope/think/wish it will settle. I am ready, of course, should I need to go to trial, but I sure could use those two extra days at the office, working.

I focused on organizing the house a bit this weekend. Nothing big, but I picked up here and there. The island is getting clearer, but still has some unstored stuff on it. Same thing on the counters in the living room. My aching back was a bit better on Sunday, but hurt again on Sunday night. So I'm trying to catch up, but I still have to take it easy.

Etcetera.

Calendar Dilemma

I think I'm going to have to break down and sync my Palm with Outlook. :( I love Palm desktop, but all handhelds are moving to Outlook and my pda is dying. I guess I'll just replace it with the cheapest pda I can that syncs with Outlook, but I'm not happy about it.

Etcetera.