When my baby was 3 months old, she was like any other 3-month-old; she slept when she wanted, was awake when she wanted, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

One evening, after my daughter had been sleeping a majority of the day, I plopped her in her carrier for a quick walk to the grocery store. It was around 8 at night, just getting dark, but it was a very nice night.

Once I got to the grocery store I heard that tell-tale tongue clicking that it seems only matronly old women can make and looked up from my baby to see an old woman shaking her head at me.

“It is much too late for a baby that little to be out!” she chastised me.

Now, my husband was pulling a lot of doubles to try to pay back the ridiculous amount of medical bills from her birth and often wouldn’t get home till 10 or 11 at night. In an effort to give him a little time with her awake, I would let her sleep all afternoon to be awake in the evenings. This way, he’d get to come home to a moderately active baby and play with her till she wound down and we would go to sleep. All of this is very understandable if you know us, but I wasn’t about to stand in this grocery store at 8 PM and attempt to justify my parenting decisions to a complete stranger. Instead I just bought the few necessities I had in my basket and left.

I have a mother-in-law (MIL) who apparently delights in telling other people what to do. She’s constantly giving orders to everyone around her, which very often includes me and my baby.

A few weeks ago we were all at a cousin’s wedding, walking for five minutes between the chapel and where the reception was held. It was sunny out and somewhat warm. Instantly my MIL starts chirping out orders to her two sons and me.

She started lecturing me about how my baby needs to wear a hat when she’s outside and about how she gave us such a beautiful hat for her to wear and why isn’t the baby in one of the outfits that she gave us, etc, etc..

She’s not wearing a hat because (1) wrangling her into and out of a hat for the five minutes we were outside would have been completely unnecessary and (2) the pediatrician told us that she needs move vitamin D and the best way to get that is sunlight. On top of that, she’s definitely not wearing the hat that my MIL got her because it’s ridiculously ugly (bright colors with animals and too huge for her head) and she’s not wearing any clothes that you got her because they’re all TODDLER sizes!

Where I normally ignore her barrage of demands and critiques, this time I just raised my eyebrows, said “excuse me?” and walked away. It wasn’t another two minutes before she was telling my Brother-In-Law to take me inside while she talks to my husband. I ignored her and sat on a bench outside to wait for my hubby.

Next time she’s getting a lecture from me about how she should have or adopt another kid herself if she wants to raise one but I’m doing a just fine job of it myself.

My friend’s husband went on deployment and she was really stressed out. One of the days I was helping her, I decided to give her some alone time and took her only son (about 18 months old) out for lunch. As we are sitting at the table in the sandwich shop, her son decides to try to play a little game with me. You know the one- “I toss this toy on the ground and see how many times you will actually get it back for me.”

After playing this with him for ten minutes or so, I gave him a warning that if he tossed it again, it was going to stay on the floor. He took the toy out of my hands, gave me a sly look and chucked it on the ground. I said, “well, that’s it. Now your toy is staying down there. Guess you shouldn’t have tossed it down there.” As I say this a lady sees the toy on the ground and (probably) a frustrated toddler and walks over. She goes to pick up the toy and I stop her saying, “please don’t pick that up for him. He is learning a lesson right now.”

She scoffs, picks up the toy and while handing it to him says very snidely, “babies don’t learn!” I was so shocked by the stupidity that I just stared at her for a few moments and then left. When I told my friend what had happened with her son, she was shocked too. I think her words were, “Babies don’t learn?! Then what the hell have I been wasting my time for?!”

I was exhausted from lack of sleep and struggling with post-partum depression and needed to get out of the house with my 14-month-old son.  I decided as a treat, we’d go to a restaurant for lunch so I could have someone get MY drinks and bring me MY food for a change.  While we were waiting for our food to arrive, my son was happily scribbling with the crayons on the back of the kiddy menu and I was helping him, holding the paper down so it didn’t slide all over while he made his art.  An elderly man came up to our table, motioned to my elbows that were resting on the table while I was holding the paper down for my son (who was dressed entirely in blue), and said, “You need to teach her proper manners.  Get your elbows off the table!”  Thanks buddy. The first manners I’ll teach HIM is not to say rude things to total strangers in restaurants.  

I had just gotten into a store and was walking down an aisle. An old lady came up to me suddenly and said with a smile “your baby will suffocate you know”

Once a week after breakfast and dropping my oldest kid off at school I have a coffee date with my 2, almost 3 year old. She gets a milk and a treat, I get whatever coffee looks good that day.

One day while waiting for my drink a lady looks at my daughter, milk and snack in hand, and states “a bit early for sweets!” Next drink order up is for her and her tween son, who both are having grande frappuchinos! 

I took my foster son to his pre-adoptive physical.  He is a case of serious neglect and spent the first five years of his life malnourished.  He has been with us for a year, but he is still struggling to put weight on.  The doctor started off the visit in usual fashion:  “How old are you now?”,  “Are you in school?” etc.  She turned to me and asked about his diet.  I explained that we are on strict diets, not containing any sugar, artificial sweeteners, dyes or preservatives, in order to help our son overcome ADHD. I told her that his diet is nutritionally dense, but that we were frustrated that he still is gaining very little weight. 

She then turned to my son and said, and I quote “How about eating some ice cream each night before bed?  Do you like ice cream?”  I quickly interrupted and reiterated the fact that we do not eat sugar, so she turned to him and said “Well then, how about milkshakes?”  I was dumbfounded.  Was a doctor actually advising my six year old ADHD son to consume ice cream each night before attempting to settle down and sleep?   I told her that we would add heavy cream to fruit smoothies and changed the subject. 

She then proceeded to reprimand me for using clothing to protect against sunburn instead of sunscreen and for feeding my son “unfortified” goat’s milk.  And, just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, she asked me if I filtered my water.  I told her that we live in the city and therefore filter all of our water in the home.  She sighed a long sigh and pulled out her script pad.  She wrote out a prescription for fluoride, handed it to me and said, “Why can’t people leave things the way they should be?”  Needless to say, we will not be returning to this (I’m tentative to say it) doctor.

Everyone’s probably heard about (and too many experienced) having someone touch a mother’s pregnant belly without permission, but I had a new one. Just for the record, I wasn’t upset, just found it funny, and was glad it was my mother and not someone else! I had my baby snugly in a sling carrier, upright against my chest, and my mother said, “Oh, this is fun, like during pregnancy—‘name that body part’!” and she began to gently prod the baby from outside the sling. Shoulder, arm, and then “Oh, what’s that?” she asked. “That’s my breast, Mom.” Oops!

More recently, I was at the pediatrician’s with my sixth child, for her six-week check-up. The baby was hungry and I breastfed her. Without saying anything, the pediatrician got up, came around her desk to me, lifted up my blouse so she could see better, and started seriously explaining how I could tell that the baby was latched on and was sucking correctly. I just nodded. Thank you. I have six children, have breastfed all of them (am still breastfeeding the second-youngest, incidentally), and the pediatrician knew that…AND I happen to be a lactation adviser! But now that an expert has watched me breastfeed, I’m sure we’ll be okay.

I was wearing my baby in a sling while waiting in line at Borders.  I approached the 20-something cashier and he says, “Whose baby is that?”  ”Mine,” I replied.  ”She looks nothing like you.  She’s so fair.”  My daughter has blonde hair and blue eyes and I have dark skin and hair.  My daughter looks a lot like my husband.  ”She looks like her dad,” I respond, thinking that will end the interrogation.  ”But you have dark features, they should be the dominant traits.”  I just stared at him and paid for my book.  Where was he hoping to go with that?   I guess I should carry the pictures of her home birth around with me for proof that she’s mine.

My son Michael is 10 months old and is the best baby in the world. I did the “tough love” the first 4 months. But my friend’s daughter, who is 11 months old, cries all of the time if she is not being held.

Long story short—while shopping we were approached several times. First by a sales girl who said, “Is that baby hurt?” What is wrong with people? Hello, she is a baby they cry! And on top of that she is with her mother, so mind your own business. Second time was by a customer saying “People are trying to shop! Why won’t that baby stop crying?” Finally, in the dressing room they had crossed the line four women ganged up on my friend started screaming at her, “Pick up that baby. Why did you have a kid if you didn’t want to take care of her?”

Finally I was pissed off, I couldn’t believe that all of the people working in this store were doing nothing while a customer was being harassed. I just started yelling at them to mind their own f*cking business. One of them then said “You 17-year-old girls have no idea how to raise a family.” I am a married 24-year-old woman who owns a home, and on top of that I am a nurse and a wonderful mother.  When I told them that they all shut their mouths. Some babies just cry there is nothing wrong with that. What is coming to this world, women ganging up on a mother that loves her child?!