- I don’t care if you delivered on your couch without meds or via a heavily medicated C-section
- I don’t care if you breastfed your child. At all. 3 minutes, 3 months, 3 years… whatever.
- I don’t care if you Ferberize and I don’t care if you co-sleep.
- I don’t care if you go to Dr Sears or Dr Lemmegiveyousomepenicillinforthat
- I don’t care if you babywear or whether it’s in a Sling or Bjorn
- I don’t care if you eat all organic or hit the McDonalds drive through twice a week
- I don’t care if you choose not to vaccinate (but please keep your sick kids away from newborns)
- I don’t care if you put kids to bed early or let them stay awake till they pass out on the couch.
- I don’t care if your kid plays sports, join Mensa, do both or do neither
- I don’t care if you Montessori, Waldorf, Reggiano or Homeschool
- I don’t care at what age you introduced solids, or what they were.
- I don’t care if you “free range” or “helicopter”
- I don’t care if you cloth diaper or Huggies or do that no diaper thing (bring a mat to my house)
- I don’t care what age your kid is finally potty trained or if he/she still wets the bed in 4th grade
- I don’t care if you shun TV or if you just set up Facebook & Skype accounts for your 10 yr old
- I don’t care if you have a nanny or if you’ve never been apart from your 10 yr old for 10 minutes
- I don’t care if you work, stay at home, or work at home or any combo of this
- I don’t care if you model your mothering after primates or supermodels
I do care about you. Enough to listen to you go on about the merits of perineal massage, to be brought in for a consult on the contents of your baby’s diaper, to nod and smile when you say you’re sure that the preschool you’ve enrolled your child in will set him up for life and the organic food and yoga classes you’ve arranged for your daughter will ensure she’s never obese. I smile and nod because I, like you, want the best for your kids. But never for one moment did I think that best = one way.
So don’t try and recruit me to your team. I’m not playing. I’m not fighting. I’m like the Swiss Red Cross. Neutral. Muddling my way through the trenches, trying to patch the wounded while staying alive.
There are no winners in the Mommy Wars. None at all. When we let other people tell us what’s right and wrong, when we inflict those beliefs on other mothers, we take away our power as a major force of society. We undermine ourselves with ridiculous, petty, infighting and squabbles. Over what? Chicken Nuggets?