By Jessica Guerrieri

Right around the second kid, I made a profound discovery:

I don’t give a fork.

Parenting is already more tiring than trying to stay awake during Caillou, after taking Nyquil for the cold contracted from your kid affectionately licking your eyeball. So why waste time worrying about what other people think?

Recently I overheard a mom describe how mortified she was when her kids refused to eat the seasonal vegetables her in-laws served. 

“They eat most things, but weren’t familiar with squash or pumpkin.”

Who are your in-laws? British monarchs? I thought.

I used to be a worrier just like her. If I had a dollar for every time my kids did something embarrassing we could open our own restaurant. But then came the birth of my second. Disabused of the notion that the doctor would hunt for the baby under a protective sheet, I found myself in a position that had nothing to do with mommy modesty and everything to do with my (relative) comfort. 

And just like that I shed the burden of worrying about other people’s judgment.

Of course, it is always wonderful when ones children act like well-mannered royalty out in public. But parenthood is never the highlight reel we see on Instagram. 

For instance, every time we go to the dentist, I’m prepared for my kids to go into wild-animal mode. I wait for them to bolt for the door, grabbing fistfuls of tiny plastic toys from the dentist’s “treasure chest” on their dash out. Sometimes they surprise me, though. This last dentist visit went so well the hygienists lined the hallway to marvel at my ridiculously compliant little angels. Ah, success! But for every victory there’s a failure, and how we meet the latter is what matters. Will we brush off embarrassment or let others’ (and our own) judgment weigh us down?

As for me, I refuse to be mom-shamed. Even for that time I had to abandon our full shopping cart because my youngest tried potty training in the public restroom and wound up standing ankle-deep in a dirty toilet. I carried out my half-naked toddler and her screaming sister with my head held high. 

I prefer to spend my energy tackling struggles directly related to my daughters’ well-being. Anything I have leftover goes toward dressing them in matching outfits. And maybe someday we’ll even open that restaurant. It’s motto? “Parents, eat here. We don’t give a fork.” ϖ

Jessica Guerrieri is a mom, humorist, and writer. Find her at witandspitup.com and on Instagram @witandspitup.