A Mother’s Right to Choose: A Letter to That One Woman That One Time

0

This letter is written to that one woman that one time. To the dear grandmother. And to the woman with the judgmental eyes who I see daily on my trips to the grocery store. This letter is written to the woman who has yet to have a child, but thinks she knows everything about parenting. This letter is for the woman whom has done everything right, but her children don’t speak to her.  This letter is for all the women in the comment threads that have absolutely nothing nice to say; the stirrers of the pot, to my friend’s mom, to Ms. Critical-Judgment Pants, and to the random guy who has no idea what he is talking about…

This letter is written for you.

“Shush!” Here me again when I say, “Shush!”

I see you in the grocery store, in Target, and at the mall. I see you staring at me, as though I am the worst mother in the world for letting my child scream, or laugh, or play, or run, or make any noise whatsoever. Your glares, your haughtiness, your, “I would never, “kids these days, and “blah, blah, blah.”

To you I say a polite, “shhhh…”, and yes, I am saying that to your glares as well.

My child is throwing a tantrum, I see her. I will not give in to make your 35 seconds that you are in the same aisle as me, more comfortable. I am raising a human. A human that needs to learn the word, “no.” I apologize if my procreation has ruined your moment, but I promise you that if I, and other mom’s like me give in to these sort of tantrums, our little humans may struggle to become good people. So, please, carry on. You are free to step over the thrashing shark, laying on the ground, and pick out your new desk calendar; I like the pink one.

I am not deaf, and I can hear  my children laughing and singing a little too loud. My baby just discovered her voice, so the cute coos have become a little shrill. Heaven forbid, a sweet (albeit sometimes obnoxious squeal from my littles) bother you while you standing in the check out line, or while you sit next to me at the DMV. Kindly, back off.  This. Is. The. Purpose. Of. Life. Get over it. Enjoy it or walk away. I am not going to silence my child’s joy because you lack it.

I read your comment, grandma, about how in your day you never showed your nipple while breast feeding. You stayed home or bottle fed, or… whatever. Moreover, you never changed a diaper anywhere other than a bathroom floor. Can you believe that a woman would actually change her newborn babies diaper anywhere other than a germ infested floor? Please, just stop. You are being mean and you are perpetuating the mommy hate cycle.

I realized when reading through controversial threads that most of the women who were driving the hate, were not women with littles. Things change. If you don’t have a child the age of the debate, or if you are not supportive in a mothers’ right to choose how she raises her young-ens, you are not welcome in the conversation. Your opinion is not necessary. I don’t care how things were done. Our generation does things differently. Not necessarily better, or worse, but different. Now, please don’t misread what I am writing. We want your input. We thrive on it, but we also break on it. We all want to be good moms and we all fail Every. Single. Day. Remind us, encourage us, love us. We do need you, but I am begging you to please stop criticizing us.

We are mothers and we have a right to choose. We have the right to choose breast or formula, cloth or disposable. We have the right to choose home school, private school or public school. We have the right to choose circumcision, or ear piercing. I decide when and how my child learns to fall asleep. Whether I use love and logic, or more traditional discipline methods is none of your business. I am proud to be a free-range or a helicopter parent.

Because here is the deal, I am a mother. I love my child and I am what’s best for my child.

You do things differently and I think that is great, because your child is different. There are many paths to the same destination. As long as a child is not being abused or neglected, as long as that child is loved- how we as mothers choose to demonstrate that love is our business and our business alone. I say this with the utmost respect and regard: unless your opinion is sought after- move out of the way. Because we are strong, and we are bold. So, “Shush!”

Previous articleWhat’s Next for Mom? When Your Kids are All in School
Next articleHow to Give Kids a Healthy View of Failure
After growing up in this city and as a Colorado native, Crystal has a deep love for these mountains, especially 'that mountain' and cherishes our symphonic sunsets. When she is not playing in our purple mountain backyard, teaching high school, taking classes at the University of Denver or happily engaged in the daily banalities, Crystal enjoys any excuse to dress up; She likes to go to the theater, laugh at comedy clubs, and of course, she loves girls’ nights out (regardless if that is with her girlfriends or her daughters.) She listens to old school rap, 90’s music or songs a little too ‘dramatic’ while lifting weights, and country music while cooking/baking. Although the mountains are her home, she is more of a sunshine and water kind of girl; summer is her absolute favorite season. She is the single mama to her two darling daughters. The three of them spend their time engrossed in dance parties, reading one more story and they always find the time to cuddle and laugh about everything and absolutely nothing. She is excited to share glimpses of her life with you. She assures you that by no means is she perfect; she is simply a mother trying to fiercely love her children, her people and her community. Oh, and of course—GO Pioneers, Broncos, Rockies, Avalanche, Nuggets and Sky Sox!