To the Supermarket Cashier who Mom-Shamed Me

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To the Supermarket Cashier who Mom-Shamed Me

Dear Supermarket Cashier,

Believe it or not I don't go to the grocery store for you to judge my parenting skills or question my toddler's abilities. I go there to check one very important thing off my to-do list: purchase food to feed my family.

It's typical for my public conversations with strangers to revolve around my toddler, so I didn't think much of it when the first thing you said as we approached, was, "How old are you?"

However, the next thing you said, after I told you that my daughter is 21 months old was, "You shouldn't have that in your mouth!" And that was not okay.

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Don't Have Kids, Unless . . .

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Don't Have Kids, Unless . . .

Let me start by saying that I love my kids more than I ever thought I'd love anything (except, maybe ice cream). But that doesn't mean there aren't times that I daydream about what my life would be like if I never had them - if my days weren't spent reading Sandra Boynton books,  attempting to teach animal sounds, telling my toddler not to get into the cupboard for the eightieth time,  cutting grapes into tiny pieces, reminding my 5-year-old to go the bathroom, sweeping up Cheerios, wiping up milk, finding lost pacifiers, squeezing Polly Pockets into stupid rubber clothes, sneaking away for five minutes to text my best friend and check Facebook to see what's happening on the outside...

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