My salad days,
When I was green in judgment.

—William Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra. Act i. Sc. 5.

Sometimes I catch myself in a “parenting moment,” and I don’t recognize myself. How can that mom who is giving her two-year-old candy on a regular basis be the same mom 12 years ago who put only organic raisins and Oatios in her toddler’s Easter basket? How is it that my first baby slept though the night, in her crib, in her own room by three months, and my current two-year-old sleeps blissfully wedged between my husband and me (much to our dismay) every night? How can a parent who was so firm on so many issues have made an about-face on some of those same issues?

Need an example?

I was at a birthday party for the daughter of one of my favorite friends. My friend and I are “Old Moms,” having teenagers and now little ones, as well.  She had some other mom-friends at this party, first-time moms. As I was handing my two-year-old a sippy cup of regular old juice, one mom declined and brought out her three-year-old son’s “green juice,” a combo of wheat grass and something 100 percent organic and healthy, no doubt. At first I had a jealous, yet almost snobby “whatever” thought.

Then, I stopped myself… How dare I? That was me, 12 years and five kids ago.

Back in those days, I would walk through Target, utterly appalled at moms with their squalling tots, in the front of the cart, sipping on Target Icees, red stained faces.

“Red dye #40! Sugar!” I would shudder.

On I would go, smartly handing my sweet, quiet girl what amounted to “green juice.” To add to my smugness, my first born was one of those really well-behaved toddlers (still is incredibly well-behaved… mostly… remember, she is 14), so I would also tisk-tisk (inside, where it counts) at screaming, ill-behaved children.

“Do you have no skills at all?” I  would think about the parents.

Then, I got bit in the butt. My second born was, as a toddler/preschooler, a frequent tantrum-er, a screamer, a stinker. Same with number three (both of whom are maturing into stellar kids… so keep the faith parents).

So there I was at that birthday party, the very mom whom I’d tisk-tisked those many years ago at Target.  I was the mom with four little kids hanging off my cart, all with Icees in hand and red-stained faces.

I had judged other parents, and judged harshly… and wrongfully.

While earning my undergraduate degree, I had a fabulous professor who said something I have never forgotten, never will. He said to us soon-to-be teachers: “Don’t ever judge a parent. You have no idea why they are doing what they are doing.”

I’d broken that rule. I hadn’t forgotten it, but I’d chosen to ignore it (Let’s blame it on lack of sleep, lack of adult conversation, brain overload from too much multi-tasking through the day).

We are all in this Parent Trap together, no matter how different our parenting styles. It is a ever-changing, trail and error, learn-as-we-go job, and we will disagree about parenting styles. However, we shouldn’t judge other parents because these disagreements, as difficult as that is sometimes.

One weekend all eight of us spent an ungodly amount of time at the hockey rink. Dad was busy being Hockey Weekend volunteer. At one point, a woman came up to me and asked, “Do you know your little one (two-year- old) is downstairs alone? I don’t worry about your older kids, but I worry when I see that little one by herself.”

Ouch.

Did she judge me? Perhaps. Was she trying to be helpful? Maybe. Did she bust me in a “bad Mommy” moment?  It sure felt like it. I took offense. First of all, what she didn’t know was that two-year old’s three older siblings were with her, I could see my kid’s little head bobbing around down through the stairwell, and I was running up and down the stairs every few minutes, as well. The “concerned” parent had caught me on a “not running” moment.

A few minutes later it happened again.

I had had enough. Enough trying to keep an eye on everyone, trying to get my seven-year-old ready to go on the ice, trying to get little kids fed, as well as help out with the food table. My face showed it: I rolled my eyes, looked fed up and ticked off. As I looked up, I made eye contact with another mom. She was looking at me, at my kids running a-muck, with a disapproving look. Caught in a bad mommy moment again. However, that mom had no idea what I was dealing with, what was on my plate at that moment.

How many times have you or I been the ones giving the disapproving looks?

My current parenting style or rules may be a bit different from what they used to be. Parents change, mature into parents with somewhat different value systems, or at least modified sets of values and rules. This is okay (I am justifying my behavior), as with change comes growth, as long as we stick to the rules/values that really matter.  Sure, I have gotten a bit lax about my kids’ diet, bed times, what they wear (toddler #1 had to have her socks match her outfit… now I am just thrilled if I can find socks), and how much time is spent reading to them (older sibs are great for filling in here). Apparently I have also loosened up a bit on monitoring my two-year-old.

Am I happy with these changes?  Not completely. I am not proud of them.

However, most importantly, some of my rules, the ones that really matter, haven’t changed and won’t.

Some of you have stayed firm, haven’t wavered, and are the same consistent parents (rule-wise) you were when you started. I applaud you. This is no easy feat, and it takes a great deal of following through, a good rule base and a backbone of steel. A partner who agrees with your rules surely doesn’t hurt either.

When I let the kids eat candy before noon,  fall asleep in their clothes, or don’t get their homework finished… again, I don’t recognize the mom I was 12 years ago. However, I like the mom I see now, most days. I’m comfortable with her. She’s more confident in her choices, a bit more relaxed and not always fighting against The Parent Trap.  As a result, when I see a parent, harried and about to loose it, or not doing the best they can, I see myself. I see circumstances. I see someone doing the best they can at that particular moment.

I try to remember this: tomorrow that parent could be me.