You have a baby. In a car.

I sat down today to write a fluffy, lovey dovey post about Nate, but am distracted by something that happened to me a few hours ago.

Nate and I were in the car on our way home from the bookstore this morning and stopped at a red light, waiting to get on the highway. Karl is in DC this week for a meeting so I pulled out my phone to see if he had called. The VI (very important!) meeting was this morning so I was hoping he had called to update me. The second I whipped out my phone, the woman next to me started honking. I glanced over to find her waving at me. She mouthed (very clearly) "You have a baby" and then made some imaginary texting/phone motions with her hands and THEN A "tsk tsk" motion with her finger. I looked at her in disbelief as she repeated "You have a baby" again, pointing to Nate in the backseat. I mouthed back "I know" and pointed to the red light to indicate traffic was stopped. She again shook her head and repeated the baby thing. Yes, lady, got it. I have a baby. In a car. I am aware. He is properly buckled into his properly researched and installed car seat.

I was INFURIATED. I wanted to follow her, talk (yell?) to her face to face and list out all the activities and precautions and time and stress and LOVE (always love) I pour into my child's life. I wanted to scream "You don't know me!" (and not in a funny way). I wanted to not feel judged. It stings to feel criticism of your parenting - even from a complete (maybe crazy?) stranger - who I am sure thought I was an irresponsible teen mom (not that all teen moms are irresponsible) with my 12-year-old face, messy bun, baseball hat, and beat up old car. Maybe she did not think that but I get insecure sometimes when I'm out with Nate - like people won't believe I am his "real Mom" because I look young. And, also, because, at only 20 months 'in' I still sometimes feel like I have NO IDEA what I'm doing when it comes to parenting and occasionally feel like a poser. (I swear he came out of my body!) Both silly, I know, but the parenting waters are murky, and fear/insecurity occasionally rears its ugly head (particularly when prompted by the smallest of incident such as this.).

The thing is: Maybe I shouldn't have checked my phone. Maybe I shouldn't have it out at all in the car. For the record, before I even glanced at it, I had ensured that the person in front of and behind me were fully stopped. I don't text and drive. I do occasionally check my phone at stoplights. I also talk on the phone while I am driving. Maybe these are wrong of me. Either way, it's not her business, right? It's a decision I make and I feel okay about it. I mean, if she knew how much I hate driving and how much of a GRANDMA I am around town (It seriously takes me ten minutes to make a left turn across traffic. Road must be totally clear! I avoid most interstates because I HATE CARS!), maybe she wouldn't have felt the need to TSK TSK me. Additionally, can she say she has never changed her radio station at a stopped light because my glance at my phone at a STOPPED LIGHT has to be the equivalent to that, right?

I got angry. I thought about crying. Then I thought: YOU AREN'T GETTING TO ME LADY!! I am a parent and a damn good one and I won't let your overly coiffed hair and your overdone make up and your MORE WRINKLES THAN MINE (take that!) and your enormous shitty van ruin my day! Instead, I will blog about it while my child naps (safely in his crib which I am sure would also not pass your rigorous safety standards!) and get it out of my system. Then, when he wakes, I will take my child to the park or color pictures with him or read books and continue to spew love like I normally do.

There.

I feel better now.

Thanks for listening.