I was going to write about something completely different today, but then I went to the grocery store (which is apparently a breeding ground for stupidity) and I have to write about this instead.
Someone in the grocery store decided to call me on the fact that my child said something about a television program that she apparently watches HERSELF and thought that my child shouldn't watch.
Even though she, clearly, has not taken my child to raise.
What the hell? Seriously?
I was going to let it roll off my back. My child is kind, loving, polite and respectful. He was standing there holding my coupons and making conversation with me when she decided to butt in. He makes good grades in school, is a kick-ass artist, and never gives me a moment of trouble. He is a good freaking kid, no matter what he watches on the television. And, shockingly enough, he actually knows the difference between what is on television and what is reality.
I guess I am just really puzzled as to why people think it's their right and privilege to make judgements on others about the way they decide to raise their children. My kids don't watch High School Musical or horror movies or even Hannah Montana, but I don't care if your kids do. I take walks with my kids and practice math flash cards and take them on long nature hikes in Cades Cove, but I don't care if you don't. If your child comes to my house in a "Sexy Witch" costume for Halloween do you know what I'm going to say? I'm going to say, "Here you go darlin', have a Snickers bar". Because even though I wouldn't let Girl Child wear a Sexy Witch costume or a pair of pants with the words "Hottie" on the butt, I'm not going to judge you if you let your daughter wear that. Last time I checked, I wasn't Jesus Christ nor was I wearing any type of judicial robe, so I'm pretty sure I'm not qualified to pass any kind of judgement on anybody.
I understand that I get judged all the time because of the things I write in this blog. People email me and say I shouldn't say things like, "Holy Moses on a Bicycle". People email me and are appalled that my daughter calls a penis a penis instead of, hell I don't know, "wee-wee" or some crap. People say "Your husband should do this" and people start crap with me about anything from not chasing my ex-husband all over the world and trying to force him to have a relationship with my kids to where I go to church.
I put myself out there. I get that. I expect it.
But when I'm minding my own business, in the grocery store, looking at the Healthy Choice frozen entrees and trying to decide between chicken and french bread pizza? Bitch, please.
It doesn't matter. I'm officially over this. I'm going to live my life and raise my kids and yes, they are still going to watch Family Guy and say things like "vagina" and laugh hysterically when someone farts. They are also going to grow up and be really nice, really smart, really respectful people who are completely secure in the knowledge that their mom loves them and did everything she could to do to give them a good life.
So if you don't like how I raise my children, don't bother to say anything to me.
I'm not going to do anything differently.